Chapter 28: Give and Take, for the Long Haul

“Wife,” Cheng Jinghao walked into the kitchen and hugged Lin Momo from behind, burying his face in the crook of her neck.

“You’re back,” Lin Momo smiled softly as she was about to carry out the cured meat.

“I’ll do it,” Cheng Jinghao rushed to take the dish from her. How could he let his wife carry something like that?

“We just need to stir-fry some greens now,” Lin Momo said, smashing a few cloves of garlic. She heated some lard in the pan, sautéed the garlic until fragrant, then added the Tibetan vegetables.

“Wife, your cooking smells amazing. Old Zhao outside the courtyard gate was practically drooling just now.”

After putting the dish down, Cheng Jinghao stuck to Lin Momo like a koala.

“Take half of the steamed cured meat with Laba beans to Brother Zhao and the others.”

“You made this for me—why should I share it?” Cheng Jinghao protested. His wife cooked for him, not for just anyone.

“Why are you being so stingy? You like it, I’ll make more for you tomorrow.” Lin Momo playfully slapped the big hand on her waist.

“Go on.”

“Oh…” Cheng Jinghao reluctantly grabbed a bowl and scooped out some of the Laba beans and cured meat.

“Hurry and take it over. Come back for lunch after you deliver it,” Lin Momo said, laughing at his sulky expression.

Cheng Jinghao knocked on the gate of the courtyard next door, and Zhao Zhigang answered.

“Here.” Cheng Jinghao handed over the bowl. “My wife told me to bring this over, you greedy cat.”

“Hehe, you know, I feel a bit embarrassed,” Zhao Zhigang said, reaching out to take it.

But Cheng Jinghao pulled the bowl back. “Then don’t eat it. I actually didn’t want to give it up either.”

“Hey, come on!” Zhao Zhigang panicked. How could he let meat at his doorstep get away?

“Look at you, so shameless,” Cheng Jinghao teased, finally handing over the bowl and heading back for lunch.

Zhao Zhigang happily carried the bowl into the main hall.

“You’ve really got no shame, actually bringing back a bowl of meat,” his wife Ying He rolled her eyes at him.

“It smells amazing. How do you even make beans taste this good?” Zhao Zhigang asked as he stuffed the Laba beans into a whole-grain bun.

“Mama, this is so yummy. Can you make this for us too?” their 7-year-old son, Shitou, said as he chomped on the cured meat.

“Mama, I like it too,” their 5-year-old daughter chimed in.

“You’re all just like your dad—total foodies.” Ying He chuckled helplessly.

“Tomorrow I’ll go ask Auntie Lin how she made those beans.”

“Yay!”

Back next door, Lin Momo had finished washing up and was applying some snow cream.

“Wife, come soak your feet,” Cheng Jinghao entered the room carrying a basin of water.

Lin Momo sat on the edge of the heated bed as Cheng Jinghao knelt down and gently massaged her feet in the warm water.

“Why are you being so good to me?” Lin Momo looked at him.

“Because you’re Lin Momo.” Cheng Jinghao looked up at her, eyes full of deep affection.

They locked eyes in a moment of sweet intimacy.

The next morning, Ying He came over.

“Momo, sorry to bother you this early,” she said as she placed the bowl from yesterday on the table in the main hall.

“Sis Ying, no need to be so polite.”

“To be honest, I wouldn’t have come if it weren’t for those three gluttons at home.”

“I wanted to ask about those beans you used to make the cured meat yesterday—how do you make them?”

“Sis, are you talking about Laba beans?” Lin Momo asked with a smile.

“So that’s what they’re called—Laba beans.”

“Wait here a sec, sis.” Lin Momo went to the kitchen, grabbed a jar of Laba beans from the supermarket stash, tore off the packaging, and brought it into the main hall.

“Sis, this isn’t easy to make around here. You take it home and enjoy it — it’s from the batch my family sent last time.”

Ling He waved her hands quickly. “No, no, it’s from your family — I can’t possibly accept that.”

“Take it, I’ve got more. Next time I go to the city and get all the ingredients, I’ll teach you how to make it.” The key ingredient for the fermented soybeans was fresh ginger, which was very scarce in southern Tibet.

“Well… then thank you, Momo.”

“It’s not like it’s anything expensive. Don’t be so polite.” Lin Momo smiled.

Ling He took the fermented soybeans and went home. Not long after, she came back with a bunch of vegetables from her backyard and some red dates her family had mailed.

“These veggies are from my backyard, and the red dates were sent from my hometown.”

Lin Momo accepted them with a smile. She liked this kind of mutual exchange — it was the foundation of lasting relationships.

After seeing Ling He off, she went inside to start making underwear for Cheng Jinghao.

Yesterday, Cheng Jinghao had complained that the underwear issued by the army wasn’t pure cotton and felt uncomfortable.

She told him to just grab some from the supermarket, but he refused. He said Zhao Zhigang’s wife made his, so he wanted to wear “wife-brand” underwear too.

It was already September, and southern Tibet would start snowing next month.

She had to hurry and make some warm clothes for Cheng Jinghao. Otherwise, when he went on missions, he’d have no thick casual clothes to wear.

She had originally planned to use down jackets from the mall to make clothes, but now everything above the second floor was locked up.

The supermarket only stocked seasonal clothing. Should she try using the supermarket’s duck down or down comforters instead?

Why not! She grabbed a down comforter from the supermarket and started dismantling it.

But she quickly realized — all her sewing experience came from the original owner’s memories, and those involved cotton, not down.

When Cheng Jinghao returned and opened the door, he froze. The room was filled with flying down feathers.

“Wife…” He finally found Lin Momo buried in the fluff.

“You know what it means when people say ‘imagination is full, but reality is skinny’? Ah-choo~” Lin Momo looked pitiful.

Cheng Jinghao stifled a laugh and went to the supermarket to get a rechargeable vacuum cleaner, sucking up all the down feathers.

“Wife, people usually use machines to fill down jackets, you know.” He brushed the feathers from her hair.

Lin Momo blinked at him. “Really?”

“Ahem, also… did you just take apart the entire comforter?” He picked up the now-empty shell.

“Yup.” She nodded.

“Heh… You’re so cute.” Cheng Jinghao chuckled and kissed her on the cheek.

“You sure you don’t mean I’m dumb?”

“Adorably dumb.” He pinched her cheek.

“…” Lin Momo felt utterly defeated — and couldn’t even argue back.

“Wife, here’s how you actually fill the down.”

Cheng Jinghao grabbed another comforter from the supermarket, cut a small slit in it, and slowly transferred the feathers into the clothing she had made, bit by bit.

“This way, the feathers don’t fly everywhere.”

Lin Momo covered her face. “Now you’re just making me look silly.”

“My wife’s not silly — she’s adorable.” He pulled her into his arms.

“I’m hungry.” After all the fuss, Lin Momo had no energy left to cook.

“I’ll make dinner. You take a break.” He kissed her again.

“Your underwear’s done.” Lin Momo handed him two bright red boxers from the kang bed.

“Why are they red?” Cheng Jinghao held them up, looking shocked.

“They suit you.” So flashy.

“Heh… Maybe we should just grab some food from the supermarket.” With that, he gently pushed her back onto the kang.