When I went home for Chinese New Year, I spent a million times more money on my foreign wife.

Today, the Chen family has a big project – making sticky rice cakes.

In rural Northeast China, this stuff is a strategic resource for surviving the winter; it's filling and high in calories.

It is also a battlefield where each household displays its popularity.

Just as dawn was breaking, Chen Yang carried two large, gleaming earthenware jars into the east room.

As Chen Ma was busy kneading dough, laughter and chatter came from outside the courtyard gate.

Aunt Wang and Aunt Li, who are usually close to Chen Ma, brought their own aprons and came in without being asked.

Behind the crowd, huddled a figure in a gray cotton-padded jacket—Second Aunt.

My second aunt was holding two bottles of canned yellow peaches. She stood at the door, stamping the snow off her feet, her eyes looking a little unfocused.

I was taught a lesson by Chen Yang a few days ago, so today I'm using the excuse of doing some work to ease the tension.

"Oh, Second Aunt is here." Chen Yang was adding firewood to the stove when he looked up and called out, his tone calm and without any sarcasm.

Auntie froze, quickly put the can of food on the windowsill, and said with a forced smile, "Your mother said she's making steamed buns today. I had nothing to do at home, so I came over to lend a hand."

"Come on up, it's warm in here," Chen Ma called out, lifting the curtain as if none of the unpleasantness had ever happened.

This is the source of the Chen family's confidence today. They don't need to crush people to death; as long as you bow down to their strength, they can at least save face.

Upon entering the house, several aunties and older women skillfully took off their shoes, climbed onto the kang (a heated brick bed), and sat cross-legged, automatically forming a highly efficient "women's army."

The kang table had long been removed and replaced with a special plastic sheet.

Two large bowls of fermented dough, one bowl of golden millet noodles, and one bowl of snow-white glutinous rice noodles.

Next to it was a large bowl of dark red red bean paste, which Chen Ma had cooked all night, mashed, and then shaped into balls.

Katyusha, finding it intriguing, kicked off her Hermes boots and jumped onto the kang (heated brick bed).

Wearing that bright red and green floral-patterned jacket, she sat among the group of aunties and grandmas without looking out of place at all. She looked more festive than anyone else, just like a newlywed young wife from Northeast China.

"This is called sticky rice cake. Look." Chen Ma pinched off a lump of millet dough, flattened it into a round cake in her palm, stuffed red bean filling inside, and skillfully twisted and sealed the opening with her fingers.

In the blink of an eye, a round and cute little bean bun is made.

"Understood, wrap it up like this." Katyusha nodded, her bright blue eyes full of eagerness.

She reached out her large hand and grabbed the dough.

The way it looked wasn't like it was grabbing noodles, but more like it was grabbing a goose by the neck.

She pressed a large lump of dough into her hand, then grabbed two red bean paste balls and shoved them inside. She then vigorously kneaded the dough with both large hands, displaying considerable strength.

Snapped!

A giant steamed bun, as big as a fist, was slammed heavily onto the cutting board.

The other steamed buns were delicate and neatly arranged like billiard balls; hers was like a solid iron ball, piled high with filling, standing out from the crowd.

"My goodness, this girl has a really strong hand!" Aunt Wang, who was standing nearby, stared in disbelief. "This isn't a steamed bun; if it froze solid and was thrown, it could kill someone."

Katyusha looked at her creation with pride: "If we're going to eat, we'll eat the biggest one. This is our reserve food; one is equivalent to three, so it's convenient."

The room erupted in laughter, and the air was filled with a joyful atmosphere.

Once the work at hand becomes smooth, the talking box will naturally open up.

From whose young wife is lazy to whose sow gave birth, all sorts of gossip fly around.

"Katyusha, do you also make these things for Chinese New Year where you live?" Aunt Li asked curiously.

Katyusha, chewing on a piece of red bean paste she had just stolen, gestured indistinctly, "No wraps. We eat big loaves of rye bread, this big, hard! If you don't soak it in soup, it could crack someone's skull open."

As she spoke, she made a gesture of swinging a brick to hit someone, and her adorable, fierce spirit made the several older women laugh so hard they almost fell over.

Second Aunt sat at the end of the kang (a heated brick bed), deftly wrapping bean buns, her eyes occasionally glancing at Katyusha.

This time, she didn't dare to interrupt or find fault. Instead, when Katyusha accidentally smeared flour on her nose and turned into a messy cat, she offered her a piece of paper.

"This foreign daughter-in-law...she looks delicate, but she works incredibly hard and is a real shrew." After holding back for a while, Auntie finally blurted out a compliment.

Although it sounded a bit dry, it was the biggest concession she could make in front of Chen Yang.

Chen Yang didn't join in the women's group's conversation; he was in charge of tending the fire in the outer room.

The fire in the stove outside was burning brightly, and several layers of steamers were placed on the large iron pot. Chen Yang used the [God-level Culinary Skill] rewarded by the system to control the heat and ensure that every batch of bean buns was steamed just right.

Steam rose, filling the room with the sweet and sour smell of fermenting grains and the rich aroma of red beans.

After each batch of steamed food was ready, Chen Yang would carry the steamer to the yard.

Pick up the piping hot steamed buns one by one and place them on the covered mat, then put them directly outdoors.

A temperature of minus 30 degrees Celsius is the best quick-freezing refrigerator.

Freshly steamed bean buns, still soft and limp, immediately tighten their outer skin upon exposure to wind, freezing solid while still steaming.

They worked until sunset, and all the large jars of bean buns were frozen solid.

Before leaving, Chen Ma packed a plastic bag full of bean buns for everyone who came to help.

Chen Yang was even more direct, pulling out a wad of red envelopes from his pocket and handing one to everyone he met.

"No way, we're just here to lend a hand!" The older women declined and walked away.

"Take it, it's for good luck during the New Year. Anyone who doesn't take it is looking down on me." Chen Yang smiled and forced the money on him.

My aunt's hands trembled slightly as she held the incredibly thick red envelope.

She glanced at Chen Yang, her lips moved as if she wanted to say something but then swallowed it back, finally managing to utter only, "Yangzi, you've made something of yourself."

After the women's army left, the house became quiet.

Before dinner was even cooked, Chen Yang first shoveled a shovelful of glowing red charcoal into the stove and heated the lid until it was scalding hot.

Several frozen sticky rice cakes, as hard as rocks, were tossed onto the stove lid.

Before long, the steamed buns softened from the heat, and the side that was touching the stove lid slowly swelled up with a golden-brown crust, sizzling and releasing a fragrant aroma.

"Eat up." Chen Yang picked one up with the fire tongs, blew off the ash, and handed it to Katyusha.

Katyusha was already craving it so much she was spinning around in circles.

She wasn't afraid of getting burned, so she took the "giant bean bun" she had made herself and took a big bite.

With a soft crackling sound, the outer layer becomes crispy and crumbly, while the inside is soft, chewy, and stretchy, with piping hot red bean filling so sweet it burns your tongue.

"Hot! Hot! Hot!"

Katyusha was scalded and jumped around on the kang (a heated brick bed), fiddling with the steamed buns in her hands, panting heavily, but she just couldn't bear to spit them out.

The purest sweetness of that grain, mixed with the aroma of charcoal, surges through your mouth.

"Delicious! So delicious!" Katyusha exclaimed, her eyes shining like a fox that had just stolen a chicken. "This is really good! Chen, bake me three more, no, five more!"

Chen Yang noticed the black ash on the corner of her mouth and reached out to wipe it off for her: "Eat slowly, there are several bags, enough for you to last until next spring."

The cold wind howled outside the window, while the fire in the stove glowed red inside.