Chapter Fifteen: The Straight Man

Crack!

Inside the kitchen, a crisp sound suddenly echoed. Zhong Di swiftly broke open the eggshell and poured the contents into the bowl.

In the porcelain bowl, two yolks nestled side by side, their golden-orange hue shining beautifully. The egg was almost all yolk, with barely any white.

“Beautiful!”

Unable to restrain himself, Zhong Di uttered a word of praise. He had breakfasted on eggs that morning, and though he’d planned to eat something different tonight, the sight of the double-yolk egg tempted him to savor its texture.

He brought the bowl beneath his nose and inhaled—the fragrance was clean and delicate, filling him with delight. The quality was outstanding, even better than the free-range eggs he’d had earlier. Could it be that double-yolk eggs offered such advantages?

This was perfect. With a scent like this, there was no need to mask any gaminess—the aroma wasn’t something ordinary eggs could match. Regular eggs, if not seasoned with cooking wine or similar, could have a pungency that made one gag.

He cracked the remaining two eggs, added a pinch of salt, and began to stir-fry them.

The staple was still steamed buns; someday, when he had time, he’d make them himself. The store-bought buns lacked any chewiness.

Once the eggs were cooked, Zhong Di picked up a chopstickful. The orange-yellow eggs paired with the red tomatoes made for a vibrant dish, whetting the appetite. He quickly placed the morsel in his mouth and chewed slowly.

Wow! Even Zhong Di, fastidious about flavors, couldn’t find fault with the taste.

Moreover, this tomato and egg stir-fry had only salt and a few common spices, nothing elaborate.

This meant one thing—the flavor came from the ingredients themselves. Zhong Di’s confidence in his free-range eggs soared.

Woof…woof.

Yu Sheng, unable to wait, watched his father for a while, then barked, as if to say: Don’t keep it all to yourself; can’t you see there’s another mouth here?

“Good boy, Yu Sheng. Here, this is for you.”

Zhong Di set aside half a plate of eggs, soaked some steamed buns in the sauce, and placed them in front of Yu Sheng.

Yu Sheng sniffed, his eyes brightening, and quickly gobbled the food, licking the plate clean in no time.

Woof…woof.

“More? Sorry, that’s all there is,” Zhong Di said after seeing that the pup hadn’t eaten his fill.

Woof…woof.

Yu Sheng whimpered twice, then went off to his little bed, curled up, and closed his eyes. He was asleep early tonight.

Lying in bed, Zhong Di took out his phone and checked his messages. Someone had commented under his post on Melody, accusing him of faking—how could so few chickens yield such a high rate of double-yolk eggs? Others thought it was genuine, given it was a video.

Zhong Di ignored the debate, shut down Melody, and opened Messenger.

Those who believe will believe; those who don’t, the more you explain, the more they think you’re lying.

Of those who’d asked about his free-range eggs, half hadn’t replied, while the others joked, “What kind of egg is this, gold?” And then…nothing further.

“Zhong Di, how many double-yolk eggs do you have?” Su Rou messaged him, inquiring.

“There were three today, all eaten. I’ll check again tomorrow.”

He replied honestly. Even if someone wanted them, he couldn’t give what he didn’t have.

“Ah! If you get more, save them for me. My best friend’s getting married, and I’ll pay twenty yuan for each double-yolk egg—how about it?”

Su Rou replied quickly, evidently online. Her typing speed was impressive.

At that price, Zhong Di was tempted—twenty yuan each, he’d certainly sell. Only a fool wouldn’t. But what did eggs have to do with weddings?

“Alright, but what’s the connection between double-yolk eggs and weddings?” Zhong Di asked.

“Straight man…”

Su Rou sent only two words, followed by three dots. From this, it was clear just how exasperated she felt.

Zhong Di: ???

He hadn’t done anything, just asked about the link between eggs and weddings. How did that make him a straight man?

“Double-yolk eggs symbolize lasting harmony. In Chinese tradition, double-yolk eggs are considered auspicious, bringing luck and peace—a lucky food. Got it?”

Before Zhong Di could reply, Su Rou sent her explanation. Zhong Di deleted his question mark and responded, “Understood.”

He put away his phone and began to consider whether he should buy more chickens. She’d only mentioned wanting them, not how many.

Or perhaps…she wanted as many as he could provide? Money wasn’t an issue?

Satisfied by these thoughts, Zhong Di happily opened his game and played dozens of rounds, finally achieving a rank of seventy.

Well, it seemed he wasn’t doomed to lose every match. With effort, he had hope of winning.

He put away his phone, planning to start weeding tomorrow. He would clear a patch of land and plant some vegetables.

The next morning, Zhong Di got up early—not awakened by Yu Sheng, but rising of his own accord.

He glanced at Yu Sheng, still asleep. The dog was lazy today, rising later than him, so he let it rest.

Stretching his arms, he felt invigorated. Today, his energy was inexplicably high—the benefit of youth.

Leaving the house, Zhong Di went straight to the chicken enclosure. After making a round, he collected ten eggs—none were double-yolk. Disappointed, he realized yesterday’s double-yolk eggs were simply a coincidence.

As for Su Rou’s order, she’d only asked to save any he got. If there weren’t any, there was nothing he could do.

Holding the eggs, Zhong Di glanced at the rabbits. Nothing seemed amiss, except two were getting rather fat—so bloated he worried they might die from overeating.

Returning to the kitchen with the eggs, Zhong Di recalled the flavor from yesterday and, compelled by memory, made another tomato and egg stir-fry.

Hmm…this time the aroma was weaker, and the taste lackluster. Maybe his senses were off.

After a casual breakfast, he prepared some food for Yu Sheng, then began watering and feeding the chickens and rabbits, and pulling grass for the hens.

These egg-laying hens, fed only grass, produced eggs slowly. Zhong Di planned to keep it that way for now—let them lay as much as possible. In a few days, he’d buy some corn to supplement their diet.

After finishing the chores, Zhong Di grabbed his newly purchased sickle and targeted the eastern plot, beginning to cut grass.

The first plot was right beside the homestead, convenient for management and near the well. If water was needed, it could be easily supplied. Watering one patch was manageable.

After an hour of cutting, Zhong Di’s wrist hurt, forcing him to rest. Looking at the swath he’d cleared, he fell into doubt.

If he kept cutting at this pace, how long would it take? Six rows of jujube trees in all; he’d spent an hour on the first, and that was when his strength was at its peak. It would only get slower.

“Zhong Di…are you there?”

Just then, as Zhong Di rested, he heard Uncle Zhang’s voice from next door.

“Yes, Uncle Zhang.”

He replied and walked toward the gate—a hundred meters away, just a few steps.

Woof…woof.

Yu Sheng spotted Uncle Zhang and immediately barked, raising his voice.