Chapter 19 To Eat Roast Goose or Not
The basement level of the Qili Building is not a parking lot. On 90% of the passenger elevator buttons, the first floor is directly followed by B2. Therefore, there are many secret and bizarre speculations about the basement level.
That day, Bubble yawned and climbed into elevator number 10, just like every day for the past two weeks, to go down to the basement to collect manuscripts. When the elevator doors opened, she bumped into Laure, who was waiting at the door to go upstairs.
"Teacher Le, you, you..." Bubble wanted to ask, "Weren't you the one who was in charge of watching Jian Zhen draw and detaining her in the dark room? How come you're out on your own?"
Laule guessed what she was thinking, glanced wearily down, and indicated that he had the manuscript in his hand and had collected it all.
Bubble was stunned. She took a deep breath, blocked the elevator door to let Lao Le in, and stared intently at the manuscript in Lao Le's hand, asking, "When did you finish drawing this?"
"1 a.m. last night."
"Wow..." Bubble didn't press the office floor button, but instead pressed B3. Looking at the mirror reflecting the elevator door, she exclaimed, "The power of the Miracle House is too strong."
"Hehe." Lao Le laughed weakly. The second episode, which was reworked, was finally assigned to Yang Damei as the first author and Jian Zhen as the second author. Jian Zhen was deeply troubled by work aversion. In the first two days of writing, she was scratching her head and making zero progress. This drove Paopao to the point of breaking down and scratching the wall in the office. Lao Le couldn't stand it and resorted to this desperate measure, tricking and deceiving Jian Zhen into locking her in the basement.
The so-called basement is not a place according to the various urban legends. In reality, it is a place for procrastinating employees to rush to meet deadlines. However, unlike a normal office, there is no signal, no windows, and no colleagues to talk to. All you have is a pen, a person, and a deadline that cannot be delayed.
Legend has it that the first illustrator to be released from prison shed tears of emotion, claiming that the place had provided him with an "opportunity to create miracles."
Although his colleagues felt sorry for him and suspected that it was just the ramblings of someone who had lost his mind, it didn't stop them from accepting the nickname "Miracle House" one after another.
Over the years, Qili has grown increasingly large, and the basement level is almost in short supply. Not long ago, you had to make a reservation in advance to go there for confinement. Fortunately, this year, the higher authorities quietly approved some funds, which were mixed in with the financial statements overhead and actually used to expand the basement level. Now there are 18 cubicles there, and when Lao Le came out of there, there were still 9 poor, hardworking people waiting to finish their manuscripts.
Lau didn't ask Bubble why she pressed B3. The two were of one mind. When they arrived at the parking lot, Bubble took the revised manuscript from Lau, opened the back door, and Lau, who had been revising the manuscript all night, closed his eyes and collapsed onto the back seat.
Bubble, holding onto the car door, said respectfully, "Thank you for your hard work."
Laure was fast asleep and couldn't hear anything.
Jian Zhen woke up groggily, first straightening her head, then trying several times to open her eyes. The sunlight outside was already bright. She clicked her tongue and tried to tuck her head back into the hood of her down jacket.
"Awake?" Zixin, in the driver's seat, glanced at her and turned up the volume of the car stereo.
"Hmm." Jian Zhen paused for a moment, her mind finally clearing. She lifted her eyelids and looked at the driver, Zi Xin, asking, "What time is it?"
"It's almost eleven o'clock, are you hungry? There's bread in the back seat, would you like to have some?"
"No." Jian Zhen had only eaten bread and fruit during the days she was locked in the Miracle House, and now she felt nauseous at the smell of yeast.
Zixin smiled: "Then wait a little longer, we'll be there soon."
Jian Zhen rubbed her stiff shoulders and neck, turning her head to look at the scenery outside the window. Winter had arrived, but the mountains remained lush and green. For the past few days, she had been confined to this enchanting little prison, painting day and night. What was she trying to achieve? Was it simply to deliver her work on time, so that her entire team wouldn't become a laughingstock among their peers?
Just kidding, who cares about that? She's just trying to make it to her roast goose date with Zixin.
She was released by Lao Le at 1 a.m. and immediately took a taxi home. She lay flat on the sofa and slept for half the night. She got up early in the morning, forced herself to wash up and change, went downstairs and got into Zixin's car. The two set off at 8:30 a.m., driving from Guangzhou to Dalingshan, Dongguan, in search of a traditional roast goose farm.
As the sun rose higher, the car drove into a village in the town. Zixin introduced it to her in fluent Cantonese: "This is still Ailingkan Village!"
Jian Zhen didn't really understand which words they were, and could only barely make out a few words, but she still exclaimed "Wow!" in a good mood, rolled down the car window and looked out. All she could see were detached houses with brick walls and roof tiles. The three-story buildings in the courtyards had cement facades, a simple and rustic rural scene.
"It smells so good." She took a deep breath as soon as she got out of the car. This smelled much better than the formaldehyde she had smelled in the Miracle House.
"Let's go, this one." Zixin locked the car and led her into a small courtyard, familiar with the area.
When Jian Zhen entered, she glanced at the shop sign above the gate. It was a stone plaque that read "Lai Ji Roast Goose". She wondered how long the sign had been passed down, as the surface of the stone plaque was weathered and peeling.
An uncle in the courtyard greeted her with a smile and spoke with Zixin in dialect. Jianzhen couldn't understand him, but could only guess from their tone that they were greeting the elders in the family. She nodded and walked away, wandering around the courtyard to observe.
The courtyard wasn't large; a simple awning stood against the west wall, under which piles of chopped firewood were stacked.
Jian Zhen walked over, bent down curiously for a look, and the child playing nearby explained to her skillfully, "This is lychee wood, used for roasting geese."
"Oh!" Jian Zhen was filled with respect. She had heard from Zi Xin that this roast goose was still made using the traditional method, which involved hanging the marinated goose whole and putting it into the oven to roast. The fire was fueled by lychee wood that was about 80% dry. As the flames roasted the goose, the aroma of the wood permeated the goose. When you ate it, the aroma of the goose oil would burst in your mouth. Just thinking about it made your mouth water.
After exchanging pleasantries, Zixin turned around and saw Jian Zhen chatting with a child in front of the woodpile. She smiled and walked over to ask, "So interested? Why don't you go see how it's made?"
“Okay!” Jian Zhen readily agreed.
The roast goose restaurant was located in a corner on the side of the small building. Jian Zhen followed Zi Xin over, and along the way, she smelled the increasingly strong aroma of charcoal grilling. The surrounding temperature was also getting higher and higher, as if she had stepped from a damp and cold winter into a humid and hot summer.
"It's smoky and a bit choking!" Zixin reminded her.
As soon as she finished speaking, Jian Zhen let tears well up in her eyes.
As she wiped away her tears with her sleeve, she stepped into the roast goose room, her ears sensing the presence of familiar faces before her eyes.
"Fewer and fewer people are making goose buckets these days. I estimate that in another twenty or thirty years, no one will be making them anymore..."
Before Jian Zhen could even wipe away her tears, she put down her elbow and stared wide-eyed as she searched for the source of the sound through the smoke. Sure enough, she immediately spotted Yang Damei turning over firewood in front of the goose bucket.
"Director Yang?" Zixin exclaimed in surprise before she could.
At the same time, Jian Zhen tightly closed her mouth, which was about to open. She stared at Xu Weisheng, who was squatting next to Yang Damei, roasting a goose. His face was blackened by smoke, and she could hardly recognize him.
Xu Weisheng just pulled a big, fat goose with crispy skin and sizzling oil out of the goose bucket. He slowly stood up, stared at Jian Zhen for a few seconds, and was obviously not expected to meet her at this time and place. The embarrassment made his brain short-circuit for a moment, and he forgot what he was going to do next.
"Let me help you." The proper chef of the roast goose took the goose from the dazed Xu Weisheng. He then snapped out of his reverie, dusted off his hands, greeted Jian Zhen, and said silently, "What a coincidence."
The two pretended not to know each other, remaining silent and leaving the social space for Zixin and Yang Damei to express themselves.
Zixin didn't have time to have dinner with Yang Damei when she resigned, but this meal happened to be the perfect opportunity, so she suggested that since there was no other time, she would treat everyone to this meal.
"Isn't this inappropriate?" Yang Damei shook her head. "You've worked diligently at 'Mystery Valley' for so long; I should be the one treating you." She then turned to Xu Weisheng for his opinion: "Okay?"
Xu Weisheng had no objection and smiled at Yang Damei, saying, "Thank you."
Jian Zhen's gaze lingered on his face for a few more seconds before she looked away at the goose that was being carried away. This was the first time she had heard Xu Weisheng speak Cantonese; his voice was mature and gentle, and his tone always seemed to carry a smile.
When the farm owner heard that the two tables of guests knew each other, he combined their seats into one, changing the small round table into a large private room. When Jian Zhen sat down, she noticed that Xu Weisheng, who had come upstairs with her, was missing. She looked around but couldn't find him, so she simply ignored him and sat down next to Zixin.
Yang Damei chatted with Zixin about her new job all the way, and naturally sat down on Zixin's other side. She casually placed her handbag on the chair next to her. Jian Zhen noticed this and hesitated to speak.
"That's not bad. You can use your strengths and the work pressure is less than before." Yang Damei sincerely congratulated her: "Actually, although Qili is a big brand, the room for growth is only left for a few people. For a local girl like you who has no worries about food and clothing, there is really no need to fight tooth and nail. The most important thing in life is not work."
Zixin quickly followed up, saying, "Let's have tea first!"
The group burst into laughter. At that moment, Xu Weisheng, freshly groomed, walked in. He had changed back into his old clothes, and in the few minutes he had left, he washed his face and tidied his hair. He looked completely different from the man who had been smoked like a panda in the roast goose room.
What a handsome and refined young man! Zixin, without any hesitation, looked at him and exclaimed "Wow!" in an exaggerated way, then smiled and said to Yang Damei, "Director, your friend is so good-looking!"
Yang Damei joked, "How about I introduce you to him as a boyfriend?"
Zixin showed off the ring on her hand, and said regretfully, "It's too late. Otherwise, I would call my fiancé now and tell him we're not getting married yet..."
The two chatted happily, while Jian Zhen and Xu Weisheng remained silent, as if an invisible barrier had trapped them inside.
Xu Weisheng turned the turntable and placed the chopped roast goose in front of Jian Zhen. The two stood there awkwardly for a moment, then Xu Weisheng suddenly smiled, turned his head to look at her and said, "Wait for me to pick it up for you?"
Jian Zhen rolled her eyes and picked up her chopsticks. Xu Weisheng reminded her at the right moment, "The left leg is tastier."
"Keep it for yourself." Jian Zhen ignored the goose leg and picked up a piece of goose meat instead.
She lowered her head to gnaw on the meat, but out of the corner of her eye she saw Xu Weisheng indeed tuck his left leg back in and enjoy her meal. She immediately regretted it and muttered to herself, "Where are the roast goose's innards?"
Xu Weisheng: "I took it out, do you want to eat it?"
"You should eat it, because it's based on the principle of 'like cures like.' Shouldn't someone as heartless as you eat the heart first?"
"Hey, ma'am—" Xu Weisheng spread out his chopsticks and said helplessly, "What have I done to offend you this time?"
"Did you provoke me?" Jian Zhen asked in a low voice. "I'm used to disappearing, how dare you say you're the one who provoked me?"
"I—" Xu Weisheng felt truly wronged, so he glanced at Yang Damei over there and explained in a low voice, "Director Yang is my informant. I knew a long time ago that you were locked in the dark room. There's no signal there, so what's the point of me sending you a message? Just to bother the air?"
Jian Zhen remained silent, fiddling with the rice noodles in her bowl. She thought to herself that she had long guessed that Xu Weisheng had worked at Qili, and it was reasonable for him to have old acquaintances with a former employee like Yang Damei. But how could he still be in contact with Yang Damei after all this time? Director Yang wasn't the kind of person who was good at social maneuvering.
After explaining why he had disappeared online, Xu Weisheng then asked with concern, "How was it working on your manuscript while in solitary confinement?"
"It's alright," Jian Zhen said sullenly, glancing at him and saying, "At least I didn't get poisoned by formaldehyde."
Xu Weisheng couldn't help but chuckle and said, "It's so bad, have you ever thought about quitting?"
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