Chapter 65: Impressive—Bossing Two Men Around to Work

If you’re going to act, you have to go all the way. Since Chu Yue had claimed she was afraid of killing chickens, then as a “timid woman,” she couldn’t even bear to watch.

She went to the kitchen and brought out a small bowl, asking Lu Zhanlin to collect the chicken blood in it while cutting the chicken’s throat—just in case it could come in handy later.

Chu Yue then returned to the kitchen, first setting a fire to boil water. After the chicken’s blood had been drained, it would be doused with boiling water, making the feathers easy to pluck. Once the water was heating, she got busy kneading dough.

One dough was made of white flour, the other of cornmeal.

Chu Yue had originally planned to make braised chicken with chestnuts, but with Xu Feng added to the mix—another strong young man with a big appetite—it was clear they’d need more food.

After thinking it over, Chu Yue decided to make a big iron-pot stew instead.

In the center of the iron pot, she’d braise the chestnut chicken. Then she’d place flower-shaped steamed buns on top of the chicken, and around the edges of the pot, she’d line it with cornmeal pancakes.

That way, there would be chicken, buns, and pancakes—filling, tasty, and satisfying.

Before long, Chu Yue finished prepping the dough. She placed it in a large basin, covered it with a damp cloth, and left it to rise. Meanwhile, Lu Zhanlin brought in the cleaned wild chicken, having washed away the blood.

“You cleaned it really well. Hand it over,” Chu Yue said.

Chu Yue took over the chicken and got straight to work. Once she got busy, she completely forgot about her timid act—her hands moved swiftly and precisely. In no time, the plump wild chicken had been chopped into evenly sized chunks.

She didn’t give Lu Zhanlin the slightest chance to help.

After cutting up the chicken, Chu Yue prepped the scallions, ginger, and garlic, then heated the wok with oil—everything done with practiced ease, no hesitation.

First, she stir-fried the aromatics to release their fragrance, then tossed in the chunks of chicken. The hot oil made a loud sizzle.

At this stage, it was important not to stir too soon, or the meat and skin would fall apart.

She let the chicken sear until the surface turned crispy golden brown from the high heat. Once the meat had firmed up, it could be stirred and flipped.

After browning both sides, she poured in boiling water with a loud splash, added plump chestnuts, then added various seasonings in sequence, before covering the pot to let it stew.

During all this, Lu Zhanlin stood silently to the side, unable to help—just watching.

He gazed at Chu Yue’s slender figure standing before the large stove, steam swirling around her like a halo. The hot air rising from the pot seemed to surge straight into his chest.

After a while, Lu Zhanlin finally spoke:

“I’ll go help Xu Feng with the pinecones.”

The tall man walked out of the house. Chu Yue stretched her neck to check—and sure enough, he really had gone.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a bit of codonopsis root and a small handful of cordyceps flowers.

Since she was making chicken stew, how could she skip a few medicinal herbs?

By the time the chicken was slowly stewing, the white dough had finished rising.

Chu Yue kneaded it again, folded it over itself several times, then flattened it into a square sheet. She folded it like a quilt and cut it into small sections.

Taking a piece, she pressed a chopstick into the center, then twisted the two ends in opposite directions—

And just like that, a flower-shaped steamed bun was done.

One dough sheet yielded eight flower buns. She lifted the pot lid and arranged the buns atop the chicken like petals of a flower. (Illustration shown.)

As for the cornmeal pancakes, they were even easier.

She tore off a small chunk of cornmeal dough, gave it a quick roll—didn’t even need to make it perfectly round—then tossed it into the open space around the edges of the pot.

Smack! One.

Smack! Another.

Clap, clap, clap! One after another.

These buns—especially the flower rolls—had their dough soaking in the broth from the chestnut-braised chicken. During the simmering process, the high-temperature steam would cook them through, and at the same time, they’d absorb the rich chicken flavor.

When finished, they were fluffy, soft, and soaked with chicken broth—incredibly delicious.

After taking care of those, Chu Yue casually cleaned a few yams and prepared a stir-fried yam dish.

Even with the iron pot tightly covered, bubbling sounds still came from inside, accompanied by a mouthwatering aroma.

The scent didn’t just fill the house—it drifted all the way outside.

Xu Feng’s eyes were red from the smoke, but he stood up, took a deep breath, and thought: Damn, that smells amazing!

He couldn’t help himself—he inhaled deeply again. His stomach and every organ in his body were practically rioting.

Lu Yuanbao, completely focused on pinecones, impatiently shouted at “lazy” Xu Feng, “Uncle Xu, hurry up, hurry up! They’re going to burn!”

Xu Feng hadn’t even caught his breath for a full minute before he had to lower his head again and resume his labor. He used a stick to pull the blackened pinecones from the fire, and despite the heat, he pried them open to get at the pine nuts inside.

He grumbled to Lu Zhanlin, “Lu Zhanlin, your house’s food isn’t just good—it’s dangerous.”

Lu Zhanlin didn’t even look up. While dealing with the pinecones, he replied coolly, “If you don’t want to work, you can choose not to eat.”

“I’ll eat! I’ll work! Isn’t that enough?” Xu Feng gritted his teeth. “You three really are cut from the same cloth. One family of hardworking maniacs!”

He vented his frustration on the pinecones—working harder and harder the angrier he got.

Just then, another army wife passed by the courtyard and glanced in through the gate.

She didn’t just see the fire pit; she also smelled the incredibly tempting aroma—and saw something that made her jaw drop.

“Commander Lu, Commander Xu… you’re both… working?” she said in disbelief.

In the 1970s, traditional gender roles were very rigid, especially among military families. Men worked outside, women stayed home—never had they seen men come home and still do housework.

But here were Commander Lu and Commander Xu—both tall, strong men in uniform—squatting beside a little fire pit, busy with chores.

The scene was… absolutely shocking.

Who would’ve thought that the newly arrived wife in Commander Lu’s household was so capable—able to get two men to work at once?

After her initial shock, the woman sniffed the air coming from the house. “Smells so good. What is that? Are you stewing chicken?”

Lu Zhanlin politely replied, “Yes, braised chicken.”

Xu Feng, ever the friendly and outspoken type, added, “She caught wild mountain chickens in the hills and is making braised chicken to treat me. Of course it smells amazing!”

The woman peeked inside and saw another chicken still tied up in the courtyard. She was both shocked and envious. After a few more words of small talk, she left.

As she walked away, she ran smack into Li Jinhua coming the other way.

“Ouch! Li Jinhua, don’t you watch where you’re going?”

But Li Jinhua ignored the complaint and grabbed her arm, anxiously asking, “Did you smell that? Who’s cooking chicken?”

“Everyone in the compound probably smelled it. Don’t bother looking—it’s Commander Lu’s house. I just passed by. His wife caught two wild chickens in the mountains. One’s still tied up, and they’re stewing the other to treat Commander Xu. It’s their dinner—not your business—don’t drool over it.”

She meant it as friendly advice, but after hearing that, Li Jinhua’s expression changed dramatically.

“Chicken? Why chicken today, of all days? Wild chickens… two of them… exactly two… What are the odds…”

Li Jinhua stood there, mumbling sharply to herself over and over again.

The other woman had no interest in indulging her and walked off.

Meanwhile…

From inside the house, Chu Yue called out, “Dinner’s ready! Stop working and come wash your hands—it’s time to eat!”