The Game of Life - Chapter 220

Chapter 220: Chapter 219 My Master is Very Awesome

Translator: 549690339

Jiang Weisheng, clueless, walked in.

And then…

Jiang Weisheng: (°-°//)

X°A°’S

(;W)

Jiang Weisheng was shaking in his boots, nearly ready to flee the scene, as he vividly reenacted the panic of a high school student caught playing with a cellphone in class by the teacher peeking through the back window and the soul-shocking experience of a high school couple bumping into the disciplinary teacher while holding hands on campus.

“Little boss, the plating for Ou Yang and Luo Yu is ready. Since you weren’t back, the other boss had a look already,” Sang Ming felt that no matter whether he’d be hired in the end, it was always right to address him as the boss.

One glance at these people, and it was clear they were all family, all bosses!

Jiang Jiankang nodded at Jiang Feng, signaling that the two individuals just now were accepted.

Feng, the person next to you is…” Jiang Jiankang noticed Jiang Weisheng’s unusual expression. Following his gaze, filled with shock mingled with a trace of horror, horror mixed with a touch of surprise, surprise with a dash of fright, and the fright containing many ambiguous emotions, he realized that Jiang Weisheng was actually making eye contact with Jiang Weiming.

“Weisheng.” Jiang Weiming said helplessly with a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Ah,” Jiang Weisheng chuckled sheepishly, his brain, no longer nimble, racing to concoct an excellent reason for his presence here within a mere dozen seconds.

Wait, that’s not right. Why is my master here?

Could it be that my master is also applying for a job?

“You’ve run away from home again,” Jiang Weiming said with a smile, shaking his head helplessly, just like he had over 40 years ago.

Jiang Weisheng was an only child with no talent for academics. His parents were set on him getting an education to make something of himself. He spent 5 years in junior high alone, struggling to make it into high school. He thought he’d just coast through three years and graduate, but then he faced the newly reinstated college entrance examination during his senior year.

Following the failure of his college entrance exams, his parents gave him two choices: retake the exams or break his legs and then retake them.

Jiang Weisheng chose a third option, to pursue cooking, even if it meant being chased all over town by his parents.

During his school days, he only ate at the state-owned restaurant twice: once as a reward from his parents for getting into high school, and the other time as encouragement before the college entrance exams.

Both meals were prepared by Jiang Weiming personally.

That summer, everyone in the capital of Shu never forgot the sight of Jiang Weisheng’s parents chasing him through the streets with a rolling pin.

Later, without compromise from his parents, he ran away from home to Jiang Weiming s place to ask to become an apprentice.

After being brought back home by his parents, he ran away again and went back to Jiang Weiming’s place to ask to become an apprentice once more.

Caught again by his parents, he continued to run away, persistently returning to Jiang Weiming’s place to ask to become an apprentice.

With no other options left, Jiang Weisheng’s parents brought gifts and pleaded with Jiang Weiming to take in their foolish son, hoping he’d learn the hardships of kitchen work and come to appreciate the value of education.

Nobody expected that Jiang Weisheng would stick with it for 40 years.

He worked at the fish-cleaning station, reeking of fish, to the point where the smell on himself would wake him up at night.

At the chopping board, his hands were always covered with new injuries over old ones. Once, he half-severed his finger with a knife; blood was everywhere. Even though he was rushed to the hospital, that finger ended up crooked.

He worked at the stove, flipping the wok, his arms covered with scars from oil splashes and burns. He practiced flipping the wok until he realized his arms were swollen at night and went back to the state-owned restaurant the next day to continue practicing.

His parents thought he would give up soon, but he kept at it year after year. When he chopped off half his finger, his mother cried in the hospital, holding his hand and saying amid her tears, “Son, your father and I won’t force you to go back to school anymore. Stop this and come home with us. You can do whatever you want in the future.”

Jiang Weisheng just foolishly passed his mother a handkerchief, saying, “Mom,

I just want to be a chef.”

On his fourth year of doing odd jobs at the state-owned restaurant, Jiang Weiming took him in as an apprentice.

That kind of formal disciple ceremony with tea-offering and kowtowing.

Since then, chefs throughout the province knew that Jiang, the chef whose skills matched Chef Wu and who had been praised by foreign guests and leaders, had taken on an apprentice who wasn’t particularly talented but very obedient.

Later, the state-owned restaurant closed down.

Privately-owned restaurants sprang up like mushrooms after a rain throughout the provincial city.

Under Jiang Weiming’s recommendation, Jiang Weisheng got a job at a decent restaurant, worked as a head chef, and stayed on until his retirement.

If that was where his working life had drawn to a close, then he would have enjoyed a leisurely and comfortable retirement, helping his son and daughter-in-law with the grandchildren, taking walks with his spouse, gardening, sipping tea in the teahouses, and watching operas. His life would be peaceful and prosperous.

But this wasn’t what Jiang Weisheng wanted. He was the apprentice of Jiang Weiming, his master’s only apprentice.

He wanted to be his master’s glory, his master’s pride, so when people mentioned him they wouldn’t say, “Oh, that Jiang Weisheng, he’s the very obedient and filial apprentice of Master Jiang,” but instead, “Oh, that Jiang Weisheng, he’s Master Jiang’s really filial and incredible apprentice.”

The 6o-year-old Jiang Weisheng was no different from when he was 20 years old. At 20, he could climb through a window in the middle of the night and squat all night outside Jiang Weiming’s door to ask to be his disciple; at 60, he could sneak to Beiping behind his son’s back after discussing it with his wife to apply for a chef’s position.

“Familiar?” Jiang Weiguo felt like the name Jiang Weisheng rang a bell.

“My apprentice,” stated Jiang Weiming.

Jiang Weiguo: ???

Jiang Jiankang:!!!

Jiang Weisheng smiled at everyone, his expression even bearing some resemblance to Jiang Weiming, and said, “My name is Jiang Weisheng, a chef.”

Jiang Weiming was flipping through resumes; he and Jiang Weiguo were assessing candidates in the order set by Jiang Shoucheng, and he hadn’t looked at the later ones yet.

Jiang Weisheng’s resume was tucked in underneath.

Name: Jiang Weisheng

Age: 63

Ethnicity: Han

Education: High school

Job Intention: Cook

Jiang Weisheng’s handwritten resume was filled with a dense list of the skills and work experience he possessed. Jiang Weiming’s eyes sped over the page, going straight to the last sentence: My master, Jiang Yuanchao, was a great chef at Shu State-Owned Restaurant, very skilled. Although I’m not as good as him, I’m also quite impressive.

“His master is really impressive, I know. Let’s hire him directly,” Jiang Weiming said with a smile.

Jiang Feng & Jiang Weiguo & Jiang Jiankang: ???

Come help out,” stated Jiang Weiming.

“Sure thing,” Jiang Weisheng exclaimed excitedly.

Joking aside, he was Jiang Weisheng, his master’s only direct disciple! With just a lift of Jiang Weiming’s hand, he knew exactly what needed to be passed.

Jiang Weiming lifted his hand.

Jiang Weisheng passed over the plate.

“The one beside it,” Jiang Weiming said.

Jiang Weisheng handed over the plate next to it.

“I meant the cup of water.”

Everyone:…

This teacher-disciple pair… their understanding doesn’t seem to be that great..