CHAPTER 37 (PART 1)

Jiang Su and Mr. Xiang carried two full baskets of ingredients.

Meanwhile, the comment section had started arguing again.

[Is Jiang Su too competitive?]

[+1. She’s also so selfish. Look how much food they took! Can’t they leave more for others?]

[Are you all dumb? This is how the segment was designed. She played by the rules. What’s the problem?]

But no matter how much the chat argued, it had no effect on what was happening on screen.

“This is too much fun!” Mr. Xiang couldn’t help but exclaim.

To obtain food and rewards through his own efforts—it had been years since he’d experienced something like this!

“I’m not afraid of dying, but I am afraid of aging,” Mr. Xiang mused. “Once you grow old, all your ambitions, all your drive… they disappear. It’s like you’ve been abandoned by time itself.”

Mr. Xiang had just finished sighing when his tone suddenly shifted, and he burst into laughter. “But after seeing this today, I realize—I’m not old yet! I’m still quite capable!”

[Stop arguing! Honestly, this part made me feel really emotional.]

[My grandparents have aged too. They always say they feel like they can’t keep up with the times anymore. Forget about joining a show to support an idol like this grandpa—they don’t even know how to use a smartphone.]

[Being Jiang Su’s ‘friend’ seems amazing! I want to experience this kind of joy too. QAQ]

[Wait, hold on… Are they already getting started?]

They were going to cook outdoors.

The program had provided stoves, pots, and bowls.

Jiang Su and Mr. Xiang had already divided their tasks early on, so now, without needing any discussion, Jiang Su was washing vegetables while Mr. Xiang cleaned the pots and bowls.

Once everything was washed, they placed them in the basin.

Meanwhile, on the stove, the oil was heating up.

“I’ll make Di San Xian. Back when I was younger and living in Heilongjiang, an older sister taught me how to cook it. I never got tired of eating it!” Mr. Xiang rolled up his sleeves. At this moment, he no longer looked like a scholar—he looked more like a battlefield cook, ready to pick up a ladle and go to war.

Jiang Su responded softly, picked up a knife, and began slicing beef.

Her knife skills were excellent. Her slender fingers gripped the handle, her fingertips resting lightly against the back of the blade. The sharp edge moved swiftly, and in an instant, she had cut a plateful of thin slices, each piece following the natural grain of the meat.

Meanwhile, the others were still slowly choosing their ingredients.

“What dish would this work for?”

“Tomato and egg seems easy, right?”

“I can smash cucumbers! Someone pass me a cucumber!”

[??? I swear, they’re almost done over there while this side hasn’t even heated their pan yet.]

[Jiang Su, be careful! Don’t cut your hand!]

[LS clearly doesn’t cook. Jiang Su’s knife skills are solid—she won’t cut herself.]

[Damn, how is cutting meat turning into an art performance?]

[Jiang Su and Grandpa Xiang as a team are just unbeatable… I take back everything—these two are nowhere near ‘old and weak’! They can do everything!]

[Am I the only one curious about what Jiang Su used to do?]

Yeah.

What did she used to do?

Cheng Yue’s gaze darkened slightly as he scrutinized the girl on the screen.

This completely different Jiang Su—what was her past?

Mr. Xiang had just finished chopping the green peppers, eggplant, and potatoes when he glanced over at her. “With those hands, it’d be a shame if you weren’t a battlefield medic.”

[?]

[Hearing that, my whole body suddenly aches.]

[Wait, does that mean she’s quick at digging out bullets or something?]

[I’m laughing so hard.]

At this moment, the other guests slowly gathered around. “Su Su, you can cook too?”

Jiang Su: “Sort of… I guess.”

[What do you mean ‘sort of’???]

[She’s obviously just being modest~ Remember how Jiang Su once said her only skill was driving? But look at her—what can’t she do?]

[True.]

[Judging by her knife skills, she definitely cooks often.]

[Li Mo’er’s brother must be crying from jealousy right now, haha.]

The lighthearted laughter in the chat continued—until Jiang Su tossed all the sliced meat and vegetables into the pot, added water, oil, and salt, and started boiling everything together.

[??? Baby, why are you making a hot mess of everything?]

[…I take it back. Jiang Su actually doesn’t know how to cook.]

[Grandpa Xiang’s expression just shattered.]

Mr. Xiang couldn’t help but ask, “So this is what you meant by ‘you can cook’?”

Jiang Su: “Yes.”

She had always cooked this way.

Once, during a survival training exercise, their organization had abandoned them on a mountainside to hone their survival skills.

Her instructor had taught her: time is money. In the wilderness, don’t waste unnecessary energy or time.

So, when Jiang Su caught a fish, she would simply descale it, gut it, and start grilling—no seasoning needed. When she caught a wild pheasant, she would burn the feathers off over the fire and eat it as soon as the meat was cooked…

Everything they learned boiled down to just two words: survival.

In all that time, the organization never once thought to hire a chef to teach them proper cooking. As long as they could eat and stay alive, that was enough.

Later, Jiang Su had wondered—why did they spend time teaching her music, dance, and languages, but never cooking?

Perhaps it was because, in this world, food, clothing, shelter, and transportation were the fundamental necessities of life.

Clothing, shelter, and transportation required money.

But food—food only required hands.

If someone was well-fed and content, their mind would be at peace. And if their mind was at peace, how could they become the perfect weapon in the hands of the organization?

Only when someone had seen luxury but never truly enjoyed it would they develop an insatiable hunger for more.

“I’ll take over,” Mr. Xiang said quickly.

He chuckled. “Back in our day, there wasn’t much to eat. A couple of years later, food production increased, but variety was still lacking. Northern folks couldn’t get Southern produce, and Southerners couldn’t get Northern goods. We had to get creative! We had to figure out how to make sweet potatoes taste good, how to cook potatoes in new ways…”

Jiang Su obediently stepped aside, quietly helping him as his assistant.

[I’m dying—Jiang Su single-handedly made everyone stop envying their team.]

[Crabs and steamed lobster are still pretty decent, though.]

By the time their dishes were ready, the other groups had only just started heating their pans. Jiang Su set the food on the table, then turned and asked softly, “Would you all like to eat together?”

“No, no, we’re good.” Everyone quickly waved their hands.

[HAHAHA, didn’t some people say Jiang Su was selfish before? Isn’t she inviting everyone to eat now?]

[It’s just… no one actually dares to eat it. 233 Don’t worry, though—Grandpa Xiang’s cooking should be fine.]

[Su Su looks so sad. jpg]

Jiang Su’s facial expressions weren’t particularly expressive, but her naturally melancholic eyes made her appear quietly disappointed as she sat there.

It made people want to reach out and smooth away the sadness.

Cheng Yue unconsciously pinched his fingertips.

It wasn’t just because of how she looked on camera.

It was because… watching Jiang Su’s precise knife skills yet clear lack of experience in cooking, he could vaguely piece together fragments of her past.

She thought steamed buns were delicious—not because she lived in a villa where the housekeepers didn’t take good enough care of her.

It was because she and the original Jiang Su were two different people.

The original Jiang Su had left the mountains and led a decent life afterward. Cheng Yue wasn’t entirely sure about the details since he rarely asked, but at the very least, she lived better than the maids and housekeepers serving her in the villa—better than countless mountain girls who never even had the chance to go to school or have enough to eat.

But this Jiang Su, though she may have had the same origins, had a completely different experience. Her life had never been about refinement—only about survival.

She had likely endured hardships, so even the slightest improvement felt like a luxury to her.

Why did Cheng Yue know this so well?

Because during that year when he was kidnapped and went missing, he had lived the same way.

Cheng Yue suddenly spoke. “Find all the footage and relevant information from the time Jiang Su joined her first audition show up until now.”

He needed to confirm his suspicion.

If he voiced it out loud, people would probably think he was delusional.

But isn’t it normal for a lunatic to have delusions?

As long as he thought it was possible, that was enough.

His gaze burned as he stared at the girl in the video.

This episode ended amidst laughter and joy.

Cheng Yue, rushing to a meeting, temporarily set aside his questions.

Just as the live chat had predicted, Jiang Su quickly landed on the trending list again.

The hashtag #JiangSu’sFans# immediately caught the attention of countless onlookers.

At first, people clicked on it with curiosity—Oh? Are Jiang Su’s fans starting drama now? What’s the gossip? Let’s check it out.

But once they did, they realized it was something else entirely.

Gossip forums buzzed with new threads.

《Let’s talk about this Jiang Su fan》

[Why is everyone talking about Jiang Su lately? Is this forum flooded with her PR team?]

[Are they discussing her new show? I watched the first episode—so boring.]

OP: This isn’t PR =-= This Jiang Su fan has a pretty interesting background.

[Oh? Now I’m intrigued. What kind of background? Some entertainment company CEO?]

[No, the CEO of Sanjin Entertainment is a young, handsome guy. He even visited Jiang Su on set once.]

OP: Stay on topic! I’ll drop a picture—here’s a front-facing shot of that fan. Notice anything?

[He looks distinguished, but what else? Stop keeping us in suspense.]

OP: Ugh, it’s driving me crazy—don’t you recognize him? This elderly gentleman dressed up so formally today. Look at this photo where he’s handing Jiang Su his coat. See that thing swaying on his chest?

[A Liberation Medal???]

[Holy crap, is he a decorated veteran?!]

OP: Not just that—I have a guess, but I don’t dare say it out loud.

The thread exploded, with many people demanding to know what the guess was. But no matter how much they asked, the OP refused to reveal more.

Soon, marketing accounts picked up on the forum discussion and spread it to Weibo.

But at the time, people weren’t as focused on the old man’s identity.

Instead, his conversation with Jiang Su on the show went viral, sparking widespread discussions and once again breaking into the mainstream.

Why?

Because a hospital had recently announced a new winter policy: due to the rise in infectious diseases, they were considering canceling in-person registration windows and advising people to book appointments via mobile apps.

This policy had already sparked public outcry:

What about elderly people and those without smartphones?

The hashtag #ElderlyPeopleAreBeingLeftBehindByRapidSocialDevelopment# ignited nationwide debate.

[Mr. Xiang is really trying hard to keep up with the times. It’s kind of endearing, actually.]

[And Jiang Su, who’s willing to spend time with him, is adorable too!]

[Damn, I miss my grandma now. I wish I could take her out, but she can’t travel by plane… She always talks about wanting to visit Tiananmen at least once.]

While the internet buzzed with emotional discussions, Jiang Su was saying goodbye to Mr. Xiang.

He happily tucked away her autographed photo along with a small card bearing her phone number and WeChat ID.

Zhao Qiuying nearly blurted out—Grandpa, you’re getting her personal contact info?

But Mr. Xiang had no clue about social media etiquette. When Xu Dazhi told him they had prepared a parting gift for Jiang Su, he even took the pastel-colored, unicorn-patterned gift box along with him.

Now, sitting in the car, he was still brimming with excitement.

“I really like that girl! She’s incredible! Strong! She reminds me of your grandmother back in the day…”

Zhao Qiuying froze for a moment before responding softly, “Mm.”

Mr. Xiang rarely spoke about his late wife.

Especially since Zhao Qiuying was born late, he had even fewer chances to hear about her. Whenever someone accidentally brought her up, Mrs. Zhao would gently pat his shoulder, telling him not to bring up painful memories for Grandpa.

“You remember Granny Chen, right? Back then, your grandma and her… They even started a women’s militia together. Those girls, all of them were remarkable. And they were so young at the time.”