In the fiery red era of the heavens, refrigerators are refreshed daily.

Chapter 59. A Sumptuous Dinner
Yang Guangming nodded with a smile, his tone calm and sincere: "Master Zhou, you're too kind. I'll definitely be there on time." His promise was concise and firm, carrying a reassuring sense of reliability.

On Saturday evening, the afterglow of the setting sun had not yet completely faded, lazily painting the blue bricks and gray tiles of the Shikumen alleyways, giving this bustling world a warm, golden edge.

Zhou Bingsheng's family lived deep in a fairly spacious alley.

The small courtyard was neatly tidied up, with several common rose and jasmine plants leaning against the corner of the wall. Their leaves glistened in the twilight, and a faint fragrance floated in the cool air.

Han Mingqian, Zhang Yuqin, Li Weidong, and Yang Guangming arrived almost one after the other.

No one came empty-handed.

In this era of rationing, when people went to a banquet, especially a thank-you banquet, it was essential to present a substantial gift. This served as a lubricant for interpersonal relationships and a genuine expression of wanting to help again.

Han Mingqian was carrying a cardboard box with the words "Shanghai Coffee Factory" printed on it. Inside was half a pound of malted milk powder—this was a precious product, an excellent tonic for postpartum women and infants who needed nutrition. Ordinary families would never be able to afford it, and he had gotten it through connections.

Zhang Yuqin carried a heavy bamboo mesh bag containing homemade steamed egg cakes carefully wrapped in oil paper. The cakes were soft, sweet, and had an enticing aroma of eggs and milk. There was also a small bag of red shrimp crisps—all good things to make the children happy.

Li Weidong held a kraft paper bag with the words "Huguang Food Factory" printed on it. Inside were half a pound of white sugar and a small box of patterned biscuits. The items were not particularly rare, but they were practical and were essential for daily life.

Yang Guangming brought a large bag of White Rabbit milk candy, a rare sight that shows his thoughtfulness.

Mrs. Zhou was a petite and capable woman, wearing a faded but neatly pressed blue cloth blouse, and her hair was combed into a neat bun at the back of her head.

She was busy moving between the narrow kitchen and living room early in the morning, with a smile on her face that was a mixture of restraint and enthusiasm.

As guests arrived one after another with gifts, she rubbed her hands, roughened by years of hard work, and looked at the wonderful things she could never have dreamed of piled on the table. Her eyes instantly welled up with tears, and she said repeatedly:

"Oh my! Don't be so polite! You've gone to so much trouble! Please come in, please come in! It's a small place, please don't mind... Old Zhou is inside."

As she carefully took the items, she couldn't help but mutter to herself, her voice choked with emotion:

“Our little Bao is so lucky to have met such wonderful colleagues like you…” The deep gratitude and the hint of unease hidden within it were clearly visible.

In the small living room, an old beechwood table was polished to a shine, barely enough to squeeze five people in.

Several cold dishes were already laid out on the table: glistening, fragrant salted chicken chopped into uniform sizes, with bones and meat intact; amber-colored braised bamboo shoots, soaked in clear oil, with tender yellow tips that looked tempting; homemade pickled cucumbers, cut as thin as hair, piled up like a small mountain; and a plate of boiled pork head meat sprinkled with bright green scallions, with alternating layers of fat and lean meat, clearly defined marbling, accompanied by a small dish of finely ground, pale yellow ginger dipping sauce.

The air was filled with the familiar yet enticing aroma of food, mixed with the unique smoky scent of a coal stove, warmly enveloping everyone.

Zhou Bingsheng came out from the inner room to greet them with a rare, even somewhat awkward, smile, and repeatedly invited everyone to sit down.

He changed out of his unchanging, faded work clothes and into a nearly new navy blue shirt, the collar buttoned up meticulously, making him look much more energetic. Seeing the gifts piled on the corner of the table, his lips moved as if he wanted to say something to decline, but ultimately it turned into a deeper, more solemn "Thank you everyone."

"Oh my, Master Zhou, why are you being so polite!" Zhang Yuqin exclaimed as soon as she entered, sniffing loudly, "It smells amazing! Master Zhou's wife has such excellent cooking skills!"

She expertly rolled up her sleeves, revealing her strong forearms. "Do you need any help? I'll lend a hand!" she said, then walked briskly toward the kitchen as if she were in her own home.

Li Weidong was also exceptionally attentive, spinning around like a top, helping to move stools, distributing gleaming bamboo chopsticks and spoons, his movements so quick they seemed almost deliberate, his face beaming with an eager smile:
"Master Zhou, Mrs. Zhou, you've worked so hard! We're in for a treat today!"

He tried to blend into the lively atmosphere, but his eyes were like searchlights, constantly glancing quickly at Han Mingqian and Zhou Bingsheng, nervously observing their expressions and reactions. Every subtle nod or smile made him feel relieved.

Soon, the freshly cooked hot dishes were served steaming hot.

A bowl of braised pork belly, thick and dark in sauce, with alternating layers of fat and lean meat, trembled and steamed. The deep red sauce coated the glistening pieces of meat, making it the undisputed star dish of the evening.

A plate of vibrant green stir-fried bok choy, fresh and green with the scent of the fields; a bowl of milky white, thick crucian carp and tofu soup, sprinkled with tiny green scallions, its aroma irresistible; and a large plate of golden, glistening scallion pancakes, crispy at the edges, emitting an enticing caramelized fragrance.

Finally, Aunt Zhou brought out a small clay pot of steaming hot pickled bamboo shoots and pork stew—bamboo shoots, salted pork, fresh pork, and tofu knots floated and tumbled in the milky white broth, the soup rich and flavorful.

The dishes were lavish, and in this era of scarcity, it was the Zhou family's way of giving their all to entertain the guests.

Aunt Zhou rubbed her hands together, standing by the table with a simple apology on her face: "There's nothing fancy, please just eat whatever you like, don't be shy."

As the host and leader, Han Mingqian was naturally given the seat of honor.

He held up the bulk Shaoxing wine that Zhou Bingsheng had specially bought in small quantities; the amber liquid rippled gently in the small white porcelain cup.

"Come on, Lao Zhou, you've worked hard! Today, our secretariat team is having a small gathering, firstly to thank you for your hospitality, and secondly to celebrate Xiao Bao overcoming this difficult time! Everyone, please make yourselves at home and enjoy the food and drinks!"

His voice was steady and powerful, conveying a sense of composure and control over the situation.

Everyone raised their glasses in response.

The rice wine has a slightly sweet taste and a mellow warmth from the fermentation of grains. It quickly warms the throat and stomach, and also relaxes the originally subtle and restrained atmosphere at the table.

The conversation naturally turned to the current situation of Zhou Jiaxiaobao.

Hearing that the baby no longer cried all night after drinking formula and slept soundly, with his little face becoming rounder and rosier, everyone was genuinely happy, their smiles sincere.

(End of this chapter)