Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Two: Taking Charge and Stewed Delicacies

Jiang Yun steadied his emotions. With his clear logic skill, he immediately guessed the purpose of Li Lihong’s call. Still, he dared not presume too much.

“Sister Hong, perhaps you’d better explain directly,” Jiang Yun said.

“Jiang Yun, my friend!” Li Lihong’s tone was casual, with a hint of the streets about her. “You’re recording ‘The Voice’ on Friday. On Monday, I want you to come to Xiajing—that’s clear enough now, isn’t it?”

“I understand, Sister Hong,” Jiang Yun replied.

“Good, it’s settled. I’ll arrange for someone to pick you up then!”

“All right, Sister Hong.”

The call ended with the signal tone.

Jiang Yun hung up, calming his racing heart, and walked toward the Mushroom House. “Director, please don’t record that phone call just now.”

“It’s already recorded.”

“Then delete it!” Jiang Yun insisted.

“We can delete it, but only if you sing a new song in the Guangxi dialect,” the director bargained.

Jiang Yun rolled his eyes. So even the crew of ‘Back to the Countryside’ knew about this old joke.

He walked into the Mushroom House. “Mr. Huang? Mr. He?”

“Where is everyone? Why is nobody here?” he asked the camera.

“Jiang Yun, here’s the thing: Huang Kang and He Ling are both on leave.”

“So this episode, it’s just you!” came the off-screen reply.

Jiang Yun was speechless. Just himself—what kind of show was that? “Is there at least a special guest?”

“There is!”

“Well, that’s something.”

“Jiang Yun, for this episode, you’ll play the host of the Mushroom House. You’ll cook, lead the work, and organize the games.”

“All right,” Jiang Yun replied, putting on the airs of a host.

He began tidying up the house.

“Jiang Yun, since you’re the only one here right now, you won’t need to go out and work.”

He nodded.

The phone rang. Jiang Yun answered, “Hello? Who is this?”

“Hi, Jiang Yun, it’s Zhang Shan.”

“Oh, it’s you, Zhang Shan,” Jiang Yun replied modestly.

“Jiang Yun, I’d like to order a spicy rabbit head!”

Jiang Yun was at a loss. Out here in the countryside, where was he supposed to find rabbit heads?

He was the host today; he had to show some authority. “No rabbit heads. Pick something else.”

Zhang Shan sighed, “All right, I just said it on a whim. Never mind, I won’t tease you. I’ll have Xiajing-style stewed offal then.”

Jiang Yun gave a short laugh, exasperated. Another difficult dish. But this time, he didn’t ask for a change. After all, denying it might ruin the show’s dramatic effect.

“All right, it’s settled. No changing your mind!”

“Deal, won’t change.”

The call ended.

Jiang Yun began preparing ingredients for the stew.

The phone rang again. “Hello? Who’s calling?”

“Is this Jiang Yun?” A woman’s voice. “This is Yang Mi.”

“Ah, Ms. Yang Mi! What would you like to order?”

“I’ll have the stewed offal.”

“What?” Jiang Yun was speechless. Another one ordering stewed offal.

“Is there a problem?”

“No, it’s just—”

“If it’s fine, then that’s that!” Yang Mi hung up before he could finish.

Jiang Yun turned to the camera crew, looking innocent. “Director, you can’t blame me—she hung up herself!”

The director was speechless.

The phone rang yet again. “Hello? Who’s calling?”

A girl’s voice answered, “This is Jiang Yi.”

“Hello, Jiang Yi. What would you like to order?”

“I’ll have the stewed offal too.”

“This...” This was getting out of hand. “Jiang Yi, the stew—”

“Okay, that’s it then!”

She hung up before he could finish.

Jiang Yun turned to the director. “Director...”

“I know, they all ordered stewed offal. Not your fault, right?” the director teased.

Jiang Yun only smiled, wisely leaving it at that.

He began preparing dinner.

From the director’s team, Jiang Yun exchanged for the marinade spices and started making the stew. Tonight, he decided, there would be only one dish—stewed offal.

“Do people’s tastes really lean so heavy these days? All three ordered such a strong-flavored dish.” Jiang Yun grumbled to the camera as he cleaned the intestines.

Carrying a basin out of the kitchen, he found the camera crew close behind. “Maybe it’s because they’re all from Xiajing?”

“Bingo! Congratulations, you got it right!”

Jiang Yun rolled his eyes and set to cooking.

He cut up the pig’s intestines, liver, and lungs, put them into cold water, and blanched them to remove the blood foam. Then he heated oil in a pot, fried green onions, ginger, and garlic until fragrant, added the offal to stir-fry, and finally poured in water and the marinade spices.

Authentic stewed offal should use broth, but Jiang Yun skipped that step.

“Is anyone there?” As he was busy, a woman’s voice called from outside.

Jiang Yun wiped his hands with a towel and stepped out of the kitchen. A woman around thirty stood before him, dressed in black leather, with long hair flowing down her back.

He asked, “And you are?”

“I’m Yang Mi, the one who called just now,” she replied.

“Oh, you’re Yang Mi! Pleased to meet you!” Jiang Yun extended his hand.

Yang Mi rolled her eyes inwardly. Was Jiang Yun really from the entertainment industry, or was she simply not famous enough? She’d been on so many shows—surely she should be recognized by now.

She shook his hand.

“Please have a seat. Mr. Huang and Mr. He are away today. I still need to cook, so I’m afraid I can’t entertain you,” Jiang Yun said.

“No worries, go ahead and do your thing,” she replied.

Jiang Yun nodded and returned to the kitchen.

By the time dinner was ready, two more guests had arrived—a tall, thin young man and a slender young woman.

“Mr. Jiang Yun!” they both greeted.

The boy introduced himself, “I’m Zhang Shan.”

“And I’m Jiang Yi.”

Jiang Yun nodded in greeting. “How long have you two been here?”

“We just arrived,” they replied.

“Let’s start dinner, then.”

“Woohoo, dinner time!” Zhang Shan was obviously excited.

The four of them sat at the table as Jiang Yun brought out a large clay pot, nearly the size of a basketball.

With a thud, he set it in the center. “Here’s tonight’s dinner! The rice is in the pot—help yourselves.”

The three guests stared for a moment. Zhang Shan asked, “Isn’t it supposed to be one dish each, four in total?”

Jiang Yun smiled. “Yes—one dish per person, four in all.”

“But there’s only one dish!” Zhang Shan protested.

“This is four people’s worth of food! I never said four different dishes!”

“Wait—let me get this straight, Mr. Jiang Yun. You mean this is our only dish tonight?”

“Bingo!” Jiang Yun nodded.

Yang Mi explained, “Zhang Shan! What Jiang Yun means is that all three of us ordered the same dish.”

Jiang Yun gave her a thumbs up, thinking, as expected, she was the most rational woman in the entertainment industry.

“What are the odds?” Jiang Yi said, surprised.

“You really did all order the same dish,” Jiang Yun confirmed.

He lifted the lid from the pot.

“That’s my stewed offal!” the three cried out in unison.

Jiang Yun smiled. “Since all three of you ordered the same thing, I figured I’d join you and order it too.”

The three exchanged glances, utterly speechless.