Chapter 44: Fried Eggs, Henan Steamed Dishes

When Lu Zhanlin walked into the house with Lu Yuanbao in his arms, he was slightly surprised.

His eyes scanned quickly around the room.

The cobwebs on the ceiling were gone, the dust on the floor had been cleaned, the furniture was neatly arranged, and though the simple house hadn’t yet been furnished with the new items Chu Yue had just bought, it already felt entirely refreshed.

From now on, this would be his home.

As Lu Zhanlin withdrew his gaze, the hard lines of his face softened quietly.

He carried Lu Yuanbao into the room, chose a spot, and gently set him down. Then he bent down so they were eye level and asked softly,
“Did you get hurt in the fight?”

Lu Yuanbao shook his head.
“No… no injuries.”

He had only met Lu Zhanlin once before, so they weren’t familiar. There was none of the intimacy he shared with Chu Yue from spending every day with her.

Lu Zhanlin’s naturally imposing and commanding aura was intimidating — especially to a child so young.

But—

[“Yuanbao is the child of Chu Yue and me. I am his father. He is not an abandoned stray that nobody wants.”]

Not long ago, Lu Zhanlin had declared these words with firm conviction — and they kept echoing in Lu Yuanbao’s mind.

At six years old, he was already smart enough to understand exactly what those words meant.

Something inside him rippled, like a stone thrown into a still pond. He couldn’t help but sneak glances at Lu Zhanlin — again and again.

He murmured silently in his heart:
So Mom was telling the truth… Uncle really is good… He really will protect me…

Even though Lu Yuanbao said he wasn’t hurt, Lu Zhanlin didn’t believe him. He could tell this boy was stubborn to the bone — closed off to everyone except Chu Yue.

“Take your clothes off. Let me take a look.”

Lu Zhanlin didn’t just say it — he reached out directly to help take off Lu Yuanbao’s clothes. The boy had just rolled around in the dirt and was filthy; the clothes needed to be removed anyway.

The cotton jacket and pants were stripped off and tossed aside. Lu Zhanlin wrapped the child in a blanket first, then gently lifted his shirt to examine him carefully.

And what he saw made him freeze.

Beneath the boy’s round little head was a body far too thin, with barely any flesh — and covered in bruises both new and old.

Lu Zhanlin could tell right away that some of those marks had been there a while, while others were freshly added today.

To say he wasn’t heartbroken would be a lie. He reached out to gently touch the bruises, checking also to see if any bones had been injured.

“Does it hurt?”

“N—” Lu Yuanbao started to shake his head, but then he remembered what Chu Yue had once told him — when you’re in pain, you need to say so.
His eyes shifted slightly as he admitted,
“It hurt a bit when I first got hit… but after a while, it didn’t hurt anymore.”

That was how he survived — one day at a time — enduring until he was big enough to fight back.

Lu Zhanlin listened in silence, his chest heavy. He had grown up in a village himself and knew exactly what kind of treatment a lonely, parentless child would suffer in a place like that.

His large hand gently stroked Lu Yuanbao’s head.
“Yuanbao, it won’t be like that anymore. No one will bully you again.”

Lu Yuanbao nodded, then suddenly rolled over on the bed and lifted his little butt as he crawled over to the cabinet beside the bed.

He opened it and pulled out a small bottle filled with green herbal ointment, held it up to Lu Zhanlin, and said with his head held high:

“This makes it heal faster when I put it on.”

He remembered how Chu Yue applied it — scooping out a bit into her palm, rubbing it until it was warm, and then gently spreading it over the bruised spots.

The fresh wounds ached when touched, but Lu Yuanbao only furrowed his little brows slightly—he didn’t make a single sound.

Lu Zhanlin picked up the ointment, looked at it, and gave it a sniff. It had a strong herbal smell—it was clearly meant for treating bruises and sprains. The scent was cool and refreshing, with a hint of mint.

The mint scent reminded Lu Zhanlin of Chu Yue.

He asked,

“Where did this ointment come from?”

Lu Yuanbao replied,

“She gave it to me.”

The small child still couldn’t bring himself to call Chu Yue “Mom.”

Lu Zhanlin wasn’t surprised by this answer. Holding the ointment, he said,

“Let me put it on for you.”

When Chu Yue walked in, the first thing she saw at the doorway was Lu Zhanlin gently applying ointment to Lu Yuanbao’s wounds. It was the first moment of real closeness between father and son.

Yuanbao was lying on the bed obediently, perfectly still, even his little “wolf claws” tucked in.

After watching for a while and feeling reassured, Chu Yue began organizing the groceries and items they had bought. Things for the living room were placed in the living room, kitchen supplies went to the kitchen.

A white lace cloth was spread over a cabinet, instantly giving the place a classic 1970s vibe. A red round tray was placed on top, and new glass cups were arranged neatly on it.

In the kitchen, there were glass bottles filled with soy sauce and vinegar, and small ceramic jars holding white sugar, brown sugar, and rock sugar, all arranged in perfect order.

The whole house, inside and out, was now filled with the warmth of daily life.

Once that was done, Chu Yue started preparing dinner.

She cooked rice in a big iron pot—rice that had that signature “pot scent” was sure to be delicious.

Then she placed a steaming tray over the pot, big enough for two dishes to steam at once.

The first dish was lap cheong with napa cabbage.

She laid down a bed of napa cabbage on the plate, choosing the tender inner leaves near the center. No need to chop—she simply layered the whole leaves neatly.

Then came the lap cheong (Chinese cured sausage) they had bought from the market—sliced on a diagonal, and arranged evenly over the cabbage.

As the steam rose, the fat from the sausage began to melt, dripping onto the cabbage below, soaking into the leaves and infusing them with rich meaty flavor.

Napa cabbage has its own moisture, which would turn into a flavorful broth under high heat. With the sausage fat added in, even the vegetable juices turned aromatic and mouthwatering.

The second dish was a classic Henan-style steamed vegetable medley.

It was very simple to make: shredded potatoes, shredded carrots, and various wild greens chopped into segments. After removing excess water, all the vegetables were tossed in dry flour to lightly coat them. After shaking off the extra, she arranged them neatly on a plate.

Yellow shredded potatoes, orange carrots, green wild veggies—just the colors alone were enough to whet the appetite.

As the name suggests, steamed vegetables were then placed in the steamer.

Not only was it convenient and simple, but just about anything could be steamed—even the often-discarded celery leaves could be used for this.

Once steamed, the vegetables were eaten with a dipping sauce made of sesame oil, soy sauce, rice vinegar, salt, sesame seeds, more sesame oil, and minced garlic—anyone who tried it would know how good it was.

For a family of three, two dishes weren’t quite enough.

Chu Yue also sliced some cured pork, which could be eaten with just a touch of garlic paste dipping sauce, and on top of that, she made a pan-fried egg.