My autobiography is definitely not a tragedy! -
Chapter 150 - 125: Reading Over Ten Thousand Books
Chapter 150: Chapter 125: Reading Over Ten Thousand Books
"Chop, chop, chop..." The kitchen knife flew across the cutting board, slicing a piece of beef into thin slices against the grain.
Yang Hui stood at the kitchen door with her mouth agape, dumbstruck.
"Sizzle~Splatter!" As the beef hit the pan, white smoke rose, and the aroma spread throughout.
"Mom! It smells delicious, what are you cooking for lunch?" Meng Qingqing, driven by her craving, came into the kitchen.
Then, there was another "wooden chicken" at the door.
"What are you two doing standing at the door?" Mr. Meng approached with a cigarette in his mouth.
"Wooden chicken" +1.
The three of them stared wide-eyed at the figure busily stirring the pot, feeling a wave of unfamiliarity.
"Is that my brother?"
"Is this my son?"
Meng Qingqing and Mr. Meng looked at each other, puzzled.
Turn up the heat, pour in the oil.
"Boom!" Flames enveloped the pan as he stir-fried vigorously, then took it off the stove!
Meng Lang turned around, saw the three stunned faces at the door, and flashed a smile.
"What do you think? Being single is quite the teacher, right?"
"Bro! Being single definitely teaches a lot, but this change... how many years have you been single?"
Uh... this guy’s instincts are really at a beast-level...
Meng Lang chuckled.
"Don’t be surprised. I just wanted to prepare you mentally. Gradually, you’ll understand what it means to be reborn!"
I’ll reveal a little today, a little tomorrow, so you don’t drop your jaw a few months later when I suddenly become a certified chef.
"Mom, with my current skills, you don’t have to worry about me not getting hot meals outside, do you?"
"Hmm! Indeed, there’s no need to worry now... This child, almost turned into a chef, what hardships has he endured!
Right! Then I’ll have to bring you more wild mushrooms and lotus seeds from Honghu. You should make more soup to nourish yourself."
Meng Lang couldn’t help but laugh and cry. Was that the point?
Seeing the luggage bag that seemed to grow larger by the moment, he felt helpless.
This truly was not missing any opportunity to add to his burdens.
"Dad, what kind of shock did my brother experience?
He has been exercising every morning for the past few days, and now he’s even learned to cook.
You don’t know, but I sneaked a peek last night. That guy was actually coding in his room, the kind of gibberish I couldn’t understand at all.
It’s like he’s gone mad!
I think he’s quite rich now, yet he’s still striving so hard. Could he be aiming to become the next Bill Gates?"
"Hmm... Loves to exercise, learned cooking, and works so hard... Tell me, could this kid be heartbroken?" Mr. Meng mused, stroking his chin.
The reasons young people get dumped these days aren’t many: bad physique, poor housekeeping, lousy job...
Meng Lang’s behavior now perfectly fits what they call ’Post-Breakup Syndrome.’
"Emm... Compared to a breakup, him being in love shocks me more." Meng Qingqing also stroked her chin.
At that, Mr. Meng glared at her, "Do you still have the right to say that? Given the trend, your brother might remarry, and your boyfriend is still lost!
A girl’s home should learn something; you only run fast when fighting, why can’t you learn from your brother! Hmph!"
"I..."
Watching Mr. Meng’s disappointed back as he left, Meng Qingqing stood there baffled.
Weren’t we talking about my brother? How did it suddenly turn to me?
From childhood, she had heard plenty about "other people’s children," but Meng Lang had never been the example.
In the past, it was a case of the pot calling the kettle black, neither sibling mentioned by the parents as the "lower limit," but as the male of the house, Meng Lang drew slightly more fire.
They shared the pressure, supported each other, and life was manageable.
Now, the "other people’s children" had become "our own child."
Not only had she lost help in sharing the burden, but it also changed from a distant comparison to a direct confrontation.
Without comparison, there’s no harm; close comparison inflicts greater harm!
What in the world is going on?
We come from the same root, brother, why the rush to outdo one another!
"Brother, didn’t you always say ’a gentleman stays away from the kitchen’?" Meng Qingqing was in utter disbelief.
"A gentleman regards the animals and cannot bear to see them die; he hears their cries and cannot bear to eat their meat. That’s why a gentleman stays away from the kitchen.
It’s not about the kitchen in this saying; the emphasis is on compassion."
"Bang!" Meng Lang knocked a big fat fish unconscious.
"I didn’t understand before, but now I realize that as long as you eat them with a grateful heart, I believe they will understand."
Meng Qingqing glanced at the fish on the cutting board.
"Can’t you apply some of that compassion, knowing that your actions are seriously threatening your little sister’s living environment?"
"I’ve been hiding it for twenty-four years, but there’s no helping it. Being a stylish man like me who excels, it’s hard to keep under wraps."
Meng Qingqing rolled her eyes, "They say internal strife is trending in big cities, but brother! You’re going to spoil the atmosphere at home."
"Hehe! One cannot always hide in a greenhouse, reality is cruel, and internal strife is a necessary stage as socialism enters a new era.
However, since you’re my little sister, I might teach you some exclusive insights."
"What insights?"
"Read thousands of books!"
"Pssh, old news!" Qingqing Meng scoffed.
"Sigh, I used to think the same until one day I got hooked on reading..." Meng Lang said with a hint of nostalgia.
Qingqing Meng clearly didn’t understand the "sincerity" in that statement. Seeing Meng Lang preparing steamed fish then reaching for a knife again, she couldn’t help but ask curiously.
"Aren’t you making it impossible for me to live? There’s already so much food, and you’re still frying?"
"Hmm, I’ll fry a couple more dishes. There might be guests arriving soon."
"At this hour, how could there possibly be..." Qingqing Meng hadn’t finished speaking.
"Younger brother, sister-in-law! I came over with grandpa to visit!"
A familiar voice suddenly came from the courtyard entry.
Qingqing Meng stared at Meng Lang in astonishment.
He calmly took off his apron, holding two dishes as he walked out, yet his voice floated leisurely.
"Don’t ask. If you ask, it’s ’rich relations in the mountains’..."
...
"Dad! Big brother, how come you just showed up without giving us a heads-up? Look, we’re scarcely prepared."
Meng Lang’s uncle, Meng Li, had a square face much like Mr. Meng, dressed in a suit and leather shoes, carrying a briefcase—an absolute businessman look.
He glanced at the spread of dishes on the table and immediately chuckled.
"You call this barely prepared? If you had prepared, we’d be having a feast fit for the emperor!"
"Sister-in-law, you guys are eating pretty well on regular days, huh? We came just in time to join you! Right, dad?"
Meng Lang’s grandfather had neatly trimmed white hair, looking vibrant and scholarly.
Grandpa glanced at the dishes on the table—hot and sour shredded potatoes, Dongpo pork, steamed Wuchang fish, di san xian, stir-fried beef with green onions—about seven or eight dishes, wafting enticing aromas, and he smiled and nodded in approval.
"Hmm! It seems Junior’s household is living quite well."
Yang Hui also smiled, "It’s because Xiao Lang was about to leave today. Eating out isn’t great, so I wanted him to eat well at home."
"Indeed, better early than late. Xiao Lang came back for the ancestral rites, right? The past few days have been hectic at the company, and grandpa’s rheumatism flared up.
We just couldn’t make it."
"Dad, your rheumatism acted up again?" Mr. Meng quickly showed concern.
"Old trouble, no worries. At my age, not many good days left," grandpa gestured with his hand.
"Grandpa, don’t talk nonsense. Look at your complexion; living to a hundred wouldn’t be a problem at all," Meng Lang chimed in.
"Heh, Xiao Lang, you child."
"Big brother, you’ve taken great care, grandpa. If home gets too busy, just let us know, and we’ll have Grandpa stay in the countryside for a while," Yang Hui suggested.
"No need, no need. Grandpa is accustomed to living at home. Let’s all eat before the dishes cool.
But it’s enough, how can we have a meal without drinks? Dad, since today is special, should we have a few drinks?" Meng Li suddenly suggested.
"Sure! Qingqing, go buy a couple bottles of liquor," Mr. Meng nodded.
"No need, I brought two bottles of Moutai. We’ll drink these today," Meng Li said, pulling out a bottle of Feitian.
Grandpa and Mr. Meng glanced at him somewhat astonished.
The miser is even plucking his feathers today?
Everyone started eating. The uncle took a bite of the Dongpo pork on the table, instantly filled with the savory and spicy flavors.
With one bite, the seemingly greasy pork belly turned out to be unexpectedly tender, chewy, and perfectly crumbled, offering a bit of a bite.
"Hmm? Delicious! Sister-in-law, I haven’t seen you for a few days, and your culinary skills have greatly improved!
Not like my wife at home—who hired a nanny and now can barely distinguish the basic condiments!"
Meng Lang glanced at his uncle.
Mr. Meng’s usual comment about his brother "always showing off" wasn’t without basis.
The expressions of those present were a bit peculiar, and Qingqing Meng looked like she could hardly hold back her laughter.
"Mom! Look, my brother’s skills are even surpassing what’s taught."
"Hmm?" Meng Li and grandpa paused.
"Dad, those dishes were made by Meng Lang," said Yang Hui, her tone quite proud.
The two men suddenly looked at Meng Lang in surprise.
Grandpa took a few bites of the dishes, then appraised Meng Lang up and down, his eyes revealing a trace of amusement.
"Hmm! Xiao Lang has changed a lot these past two years, much more mature."
"All thanks to Grandpa’s guidance since I was little," Meng Lang said, offering grandpa a bite of fish.
"Grandpa, have some vegetables; the fish is fresh."
Meng Lang spent a significant part of his childhood raised by his grandparents, and his early education was largely influenced by grandpa.
It was also one reason he chose to study Chinese literature later.
"Whoa! Xiao Lang made this? I really couldn’t tell," Meng Li expressed his astonishment.
"Your cousin wouldn’t touch anything without a servant’s help, can barely manage to make dumplings, and all he could offer us was ’Hermes style’.
Isn’t it said, be it Beijing Drifters, Shanghai Drifters, Guangzhou Drifters, Shenzhen Drifters, each manages to stand out? It’s not easy being on your own.
But I heard you were doing insurance before; have you switched careers?"
Mr. Meng: "#"
Yang Hui: "#"
Qingqing Meng: "#"
Meng Lang sighed.
He began to understand why the brother in the last episode couldn’t help but..."
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