“Not bad.” Cheng Yulan’s face remained serious, giving a very conservative evaluation.
Hearing this, Feng Man couldn’t help recalling how Cheng Lang had first rated her sesame flatbread. He clearly loved it, but this aunt and nephew were just alike—always saying “not bad.”
That evening, when Cheng Lang returned home, the family ate dinner. As Feng Man fed Little Yellow a meat bone, she “interrogated” Cheng Lang again. “Back when you first ate the sesame flatbread I made at my cousin’s, you said it was not bad. Were you just putting on airs?”
The big yellow dog had been given a proper name by Feng Man: Little Yellow—simple and straightforward. As for why not Big Yellow, she figured names should go against the grain. They said cheap names kept things alive, so a big dog should get a small name. A Little Yellow dog would be Big Yellow.
Little Yellow wagged its tail and gnawed the bone vigorously, huffing away.
Cheng Lang watched the big yellow dog gnaw for a bit, then thought back to months ago. His mindset then was incomparable to now. He just clenched his jawline. “In our Cheng family, ‘not bad’ means it’s very good.”
“Oh~ No wonder. You’re just like Auntie.” Feng Man nodded with a grin, squatting to tease the big dog that had just finished the bone. “Come on, Little Yellow. You’re Cheng family too. Was this bone not bad?”
Cheng Lang: “…”
Little Yellow panted with its tongue out, sitting obediently by Feng Man, its big tail sweeping back and forth like a broom, huffing along.
“Done for. Little Cheng Yellow doesn’t acknowledge you. Look how happily it gnawed—that’s definitely not ‘not bad.’ So it’s one of us Feng family, right?” Feng Man stroked the big dog’s head, ruffling it. “Little Feng Yellow it is.”
Cheng Lang watched the person and dog get all cozy, while he became the outsider.
Especially when in the Mine District he saw his own big dog that was closest to him, now it really changed owners. It only recognized Feng Man, who fed it bones every day. In the blink of an eye, it turned its butt toward Cheng Lang and always acted cute in front of Feng Man.
Was this still that fierce and menacing big dog from the Mine District, the one that bravely snarled at coal thieves?
What the hell was it pretending to be!
Cheng Yulan was persuaded by her family to stay here for a while. After all, she was getting on in years, and the weather grew colder by the day. Staying alone in her quiet home was inevitably lonely. Here, things were lively, especially with the younger generation around. Even the coldest heart could warm up a bit.
Fan You Shan’s daily task now was to walk the dog, leading it around with the leash. This was the honorable mission assigned by his aunt.
Feng Man earnestly instructed him that he must use the leash when going out. Only irresponsible dog owners let their dogs run free. She had been scared by one before.
Now that Grandma was here too, Fan You Shan loved going out with her to stroll around, walking the dog along the way. He called out to Little Yellow the whole road, letting it run and play freely.
At home, Little Yellow had plenty of space to move around in the yard. That was the benefit of having a big yard.
Feng Man, Dong Xiaojuan, and Yuan Qiumei prepared food in the kitchen. Fan You Shan played with the dog in the yard. The grapevine and peach tree transplanted into the yard had taken root and grown, just waiting to flower and bear fruit next spring.
On the left side of the yard, led by his cousin’s wife, they dug up some soil and planted green onions and chili peppers. When cooking noodles or stir-fries, they could just pluck some from the yard. The freshest green onions, washed clean and chopped, could be sprinkled right on—completely natural and pollution-free.
On Saturday afternoon, Cheng Lang had Song Guodong deliver a slab of lamb: “Sister-in-law, Brother Lang bought a whole sheep nearby for the workers to make lamb soup. He saved this slab to send over.”
The lamb, meat and bone together, weighed seven or eight jin. Feng Man treated Song Guodong to a sesame flatbread and a bowl of milky white fish soup. Then she turned to process the lamb with her cousin’s wife.
Lamb was hard to come by these days. Pork was the most common, and chicken, duck, and fish were also everyday fare. Few households raised cattle or sheep, so lamb soup wasn’t something you could have easily.
They blanched the lamb in the pot, added ginger slices and green onions to remove the gaminess. Once cooked, they took it out, picked off the meat, sliced it, and plated it. The lamb that could sell for a hundred yuan a jin in later-years soup shops piled up into a little mountain: lamb, offal, tripe… It looked very appetizing.
The clean sheep bones went back into the big iron pot to simmer. Once the bone broth released its aroma, they added the cooked lamb back in.
Cheng Lang and Fan Zhenghua didn’t have lamb soup at the Mine District. They instructed the cafeteria to stew it so all the workers could drink the soup for free to ward off the cold and boost energy. The two came back from work early.
The square table was crowded with people. In the center was a big basin of lamb soup. The freshly boiled broth was clear, seasoned only with a bit of salt right before serving—pure natural freshness, full of clear fragrance.
The well-cooked lamb slices were thin. Dipped in Feng Man’s specially made chili sauce mixed with fresh millet peppers, chopped green onions, and cilantro, the tender red lamb instantly took on the bright red sauce. The chili sauce seeped into every fiber of the meat, coated with vibrant green onions and cilantro and a few bits of finely chopped red peppers. The fresh flavor of the lamb perfectly blended with the dipping sauce’s aroma. One bite was pure enjoyment.
The thin slices had both fat and lean. The fatty parts weren’t greasy at all; chewing released a subtle burst of oiliness, perfect for satisfying that meat craving. The lean parts were fine and firm, full of chew.
Finally, a sip of lamb soup—salty, fresh, and delicious. It had a faint oily fragrance beyond the fish soup, perfect for warming against the cold.
Fan You Shan ate vigorously, his little mouth never stopping. He occasionally tossed some bones to Little Yellow too.
Little Yellow wagged its tail and wandered around, gnawing bones everywhere. Feng Man and Fan You Shan threw it the most.
At the dinner table, Feng Man inquired about the lamb. When she learned Cheng Lang had used his connections to buy a whole sheep from a nearby village, she couldn’t help but ask curiously: “Is there some celebration at the Mine District?”
Fan Zhenghua beamed with joy and answered first: “Big good news!”
Cheng Lang and his cousin had two liang of baijiu each. He said to Feng Man: “The mining progress is going well. With the new equipment, efficiency has improved a lot. Time to reward the crew.”
Feng Man didn’t know much about mining, but seeing how happy Cheng Lang and his cousin were, she knew it was great news: “Then we’re in luck, eating well and drinking spicy.”
The lamb soup meal lasted over an hour. The soup in the kitchen pot simmered on low heat. The basin always had freshly added scalding broth. After the meal, the washing up went to the two big men and one little man as usual.
Fan You Shan stood on a stool putting the cleaned pots, bowls, and pans on the upper cabinet shelf. Feng Man teased him while playing with the dog nearby: “Xiaoshan is so capable. Are you preparing to get a wife and treat her well in the future?”
“Auntie!” Fan You Shan jumped off the stool and ran to Feng Man, dead serious. “Of course! When I get a wife, I can share half my soda with her.”
Feng Man: “…”
What a weighty promise!
The house had plenty of rooms. Each main hall had two bedrooms on either side. Cheng Yulan stayed in the other side room from Feng Man and Cheng Lang’s main hall.
The old lady went to bed early. By eight or nine at night, she turned off the light and rested. Everything around was quiet and pitch black, with only a faint light from the other inner room.
Feng Man’s whole body was tense, even her instep stretched straight. Her teeth bit into the man’s shoulder as she murmured hoarsely, suppressing her voice: “Little Aunt is in the next room… you… you…”
The man either did it on purpose or ignored her words entirely, his wicked intentions fully on display… Feng Man’s arms weakly propped at her sides…
“Little Aunt is asleep. Relax.” Cheng Lang’s voice was hoarse, ground down by desire, magnetic and forceful. He coaxed the woman in a low voice.
How could Feng Man relax? She didn’t know how soundproof it was here. She could only bite her lip to stifle her moans, not daring to let any slip.
But the man opposite her was utterly bad at a time like this, like a different person, deliberately ‘tormenting’ her. Feng Man’s cheeks flushed red, thin sweat trickling from her forehead. She tilted her head back slightly, her beautiful neck glistening like polished jade, until the man kissed it all.
……
After a tiring night, Feng Man got up the next day with a sore waist and soft legs. After washing up and changing clothes, Cheng Lang, already dressed neatly beside her, hadn’t left yet. He said: “Tonight, Slim Monkey and Zhou Yuejin will put on a show. They’ll steal the fake secret recipe you wrote.”
“Okay.” Feng Man naturally prioritized the plan, but thinking of last night, she shot him several glares.
The man, however, looked stern and pensive: “I was the one exerting all night. How are you so sore?”
Feng Man: “…”
She bit his shoulder hard to vent her frustration.
In a great mood, Cheng Lang relaxed his muscles and let the woman bite, finding her clawing and snapping adorably fierce: “Don’t hurt your teeth. It’d be tragic like Xiaoshan’s.”
“What nonsense.” Feng Man reached to pinch his waist, annoyed. “I’m not a kid. Would I be missing teeth?”
Unfortunately, the man’s body was rock-hard. She didn’t make a dent. As she turned to leave, a broad hand suddenly wrapped around her waist, pulled her back with slight force.
Her red lips were captured, kissed solidly.
Woof! Woof! Woof!
Feng Man was held in the man’s arms, head tilted for the kiss, when loud barking suddenly erupted in the room.
Big dog Little Yellow made a habit of coming to find its female owner every morning. It trotted in da-da-da, but sensed something off. With its keen danger sense, the big dog barked madly at the man “grabbing” its owner.
The morning kiss was interrupted by the dog. The two separated slightly. Feng Man felt lucky it wasn’t a person catching them—that would be so embarrassing.
Being caught by a dog kissing in the room shouldn’t be embarrassing, right?
Looking at Little Yellow’s clear doggy eyes, the kid probably understood nothing.
But seeing its stance—like arriving late to rescue the master, loyally protective—Feng Man felt a motherly comfort. Not bad, the good dog she’d fed so many bones.
Cheng Lang, whose romance was interrupted, frowned. One sharp glance at Little Yellow sent his imposing aura crashing down.
The once majestic, furiously barking Little Yellow instantly shrank back. Its loud woofs dropped eight degrees to feeble little yips. Listening closely, they even sounded a bit milky and whiny. It even shifted its paws, inching toward the female owner.
Feng Man: QAQ
Damn you, Little Yellow. You caved way too fast!