Chapter 9: The Little Rain Sprite

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“Wait, is this how you invite someone to drink?”
Silly Zhu stared at the pork on the chopping board, a look of utter disbelief on his face.
“Who are you?” Lin Shaowen asked seriously.
“Huh?”
Silly Zhu was momentarily stunned, then stammered after a long pause, “I am... He Yuzhu.”
“You’re the genuine heir of the Tan family cuisine, Chef He from the steel rolling mill!” Lin Shaowen exclaimed with heartfelt regret. “I sincerely invited you to dinner, but looking across all of Nanluoguxiang, who else could surpass your culinary skills?”
“That’s true,” Silly Zhu replied with delight.
“So, I’ve already prepared everything, just waiting for you to take charge of the cooking,” Lin Shaowen sighed.
“Makes sense, makes sense—only university students are this cultured,” Silly Zhu nodded knowingly, even giving Lin Shaowen a thumbs up.
“Though I don’t know much about cooking, so the ingredients might be a bit incomplete. What do you think, Chef He?”
“Hey, you don’t need to worry about that, just wait to eat,” He Yuzhu waved his hand generously.
“All right, I’ll look forward to enjoying Chef He’s skills.”
Lin Shaowen gave a brief instruction and went back to lie down in his room, hoping to enjoy the cool air in the courtyard.
But the entire house had no furniture except for a rickety bed.
Silly Zhu was only about twenty-three or twenty-four years old, not very shrewd yet. After receiving Lin Shaowen’s praise, he was energized as if injected with adrenaline. He immediately ran home to grab his cooking tools, ready to work hard.
“Silly Zhu, where are you going?” Yan Bugui asked curiously.
“Lin Shaowen invited me for drinks, so I’m getting some stuff ready,” Silly Zhu said with a smile.
“Wait, Lin Shaowen invites you to drink, and you still have to prepare the stuff yourself?” Yan Bugui was dumbfounded—what kind of trick was this?
“Across all of Nanluoguxiang, whose dishes are better than mine?” Silly Zhu boasted. “They’re all bookworms, but Lin Shaowen really knows what’s what. Third Uncle, I’m not saying this to flatter you, but when it comes to judging people, you really can’t compare to Lin Shaowen.”
With that, he left, leaving Yan Bugui standing there confused in the wind.
What a mystery—does Silly Zhu never learn?
After getting beaten twice yesterday, he’s now rushing to cook for Lin Shaowen today?
West Wing.
Amid the clatter of pots and pans, a delicious aroma spread throughout the courtyard.
“Who is that? Eating meat at a time like this?” Liu Haizhong scolded angrily.
“Exactly, what’s the occasion?” Second Aunt chimed in.
Liu Guangtian and Liu Guangfu greedily sniffed the air, trying hard to recall the last time they had meat but came up empty.
In the central courtyard, Yi Zhonghai also clenched his jaw, smelling the meat.
Despite being a level-eight worker with a monthly wage of 99 yuan, he dared not eat meat freely.
That money was all saved for retirement.
“Who’s eating meat?” Jia Zhangshi suddenly jumped up.

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“From the backyard,” Qin Huairu whispered.
“Damn Silly Zhu, how dare he eat meat? He deserves to be a lifelong bachelor.”
Jia Zhangshi cursed under her breath, but saliva occasionally dribbled from her mouth.
“Dad, I want to eat meat!” Banggeng shouted.
“Get lost!”
Jia Dongxu roared, frightening Banggeng into tears.
“Why are you yelling at the child?” Jia Zhangshi hugged Banggeng and comforted him, “Don’t cry, tomorrow I’ll have your mother buy some meat and we’ll make dumplings.”
“Mom, I have no money,” Qin Huairu said softly.
“No money? Where did you spend your money then?” Jia Zhangshi glared.
“You only give me ten yuan a month. Our family of four... where’s there any money left?” Qin Huairu said with grievance.
Jia Dongxu was a level-one worker, earning 27.5 yuan a month.
He only gave her ten yuan monthly for living expenses; the rest Jia Zhangshi saved.
“How dare you talk back?” Jia Zhangshi pinched Qin Huairu and scolded, “If our family hadn’t taken you in, you’d still be digging soil in the countryside. Now your wings have grown…”
“Mom, I’m not,” Qin Huairu shouted, her eyes red.
“Enough, stop arguing.”
Jia Dongxu roared, slammed down his chopsticks, and lay on the bed.
Compared to Lin Shaowen, he hated Silly Zhu even more; why eat meat for no reason? It unsettled their home.
West Wing.
Lin Shaowen stood with arms crossed, leaning against the doorframe, watching Silly Zhu cook vigorously, praising him endlessly as if words were free.
“Chef He, it has to be you.”
“This dish is no worse than the imperial chefs.”
“Chef He, you’d be wasted working in the cafeteria.”
...
Lost in compliments, Silly Zhu cooked with all his might.
In less than half an hour, three dishes and one soup were ready—truly a feast for the eyes, nose, and palate.
Not a scrap of the two pounds of pork Lin Shaowen provided was wasted; Silly Zhu also added plenty of cabbage and seasonings himself.
“How is it? Not bad, right?” Silly Zhu wiped his hands, beaming with pride.
“You’re the one.”
Lin Shaowen gave a thumbs up, then casually pulled out two teacups and filled them with wine.
“Brother...”
A timid voice echoed in Lin Shaowen’s courtyard.

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Lin Shaowen turned his head to see a little girl standing there clutching a schoolbag.
She wore a half-new, half-old gray jacket and black pants faded from many washes—clothes that looked like they once belonged to Silly Zhu.
“Brother, this is my little sister, He Yushui,” Silly Zhu hurriedly introduced.
“Brother, who’s this?” He Yushui tugged at Silly Zhu’s sleeve.
“Hello, I’m Lin Shaowen, your brother’s colleague.”
Lin Shaowen waved He Yushui in.
If anyone in this courtyard could be called normal, it was He Yushui—she was truly clear-headed.
Her father ran off with a widow, and her brother was also entangled with a widow. So she planned to move into school, never come back, and get married as soon as she graduated. She vowed never to return.
“Brother Lin, are you a cook too?” He Yushui asked curiously.
“Yes, I’m a cook as well.”
Lin Shaowen casually picked up a cut coconut from the ground.
“Oh, a coconut!” Silly Zhu was amazed.
He had only seen one once before, when helping his father at a wealthy household and watching others drink it.
“Good eye.”
Lin Shaowen handed the coconut to He Yushui. “Adults drink wine, children drink juice.”
“Thank you, Brother Lin.” He Yushui smiled sweetly.
“Sis, let me have a sip,” Silly Zhu rubbed his hands together.
He Yushui hesitated but still handed over the coconut.
Silly Zhu didn’t hold back, sucking hard through the straw several times.
The coconut wasn’t big to begin with, and it couldn’t withstand his greedy slurping. By the time it got back to He Yushui, there was barely any juice left.
Her eyes reddened, and she lowered her head, tears streaming down.
“Here, I’ll give you another one.” Lin Shaowen produced another coconut from somewhere and handed it to her. “This time, don’t share it with your brother.”
“Thank you, Brother Lin.” He Yushui immediately smiled through her tears.
Watching her smile, Lin Shaowen’s lips curved slightly.
After all, she was only about fifteen or sixteen years old, born into this era of scarcity—truly fate’s doing.
“Come on, brother, bottoms up.” Silly Zhu immediately raised his cup.
“Bottoms up.”
Lin Shaowen clinked cups with him and took a sip.
It was still the strong Erguotou liquor—no frills, just strong kick.