A courtyard house; Li Yunlong, a subordinate of the deputy director of Harbin Military Engineering I

At the entrance of the staff compound of Baoding Machinery Factory, two figures stood alone in the cold wind.

He Yushui cried, tears streaming down her face, wiping her eyes repeatedly with her sleeve, her voice trembling, "Brother, is Dad really here?"

Upon hearing this, Sha Zhu frowned deeply and clenched his fists.

He Daqing left Beiping for Baoding without a word at the end of last year, without even leaving a letter.

Before leaving, He Daqing went to Fengzeyuan to challenge them, defeating the head chef with a dish of "Three White Dishes in a Pot," then arranged for Sha Zhu to become an apprentice there before running away.

Sha Zhu remembered it clearly. It happened not long after Zhang's second grandfather got married. That day, he went to Zhang's great-grandfather's house to visit Zhang Guilin. When he came back, he found that his father was gone. There was only a note left in the house, which read in crooked handwriting, "Go to Baoding to make a living. Don't worry about me."

He was sixteen years old at the time. Holding that note, he stood in the empty room, stunned for a long time before he came to his senses.

"I really can't believe He Daqing could be so heartless!" Sha Zhu gritted his teeth, his voice muffled. "For a widow, he abandoned us, despising us as a burden!"

He spoke toughly, but his eyes were already red.

He Yushui stood to the side, her shoulders shaking with sobs, tears streaming down her cheeks, freezing in the cold wind.

Sha Zhu looked down at her, feeling as if something had squeezed his heart tightly.

His father ran away, and his mother passed away early, leaving only him and his younger sister. As a young boy, he had to support the family.

If it weren't for Grandpa Zhang lending them some travel expenses, the brother and sister wouldn't have been able to even leave Beiping.

He took a deep breath, forcing down the surging bitterness, and wiped his face. The cold wind felt like knives on his face, but he didn't care about the pain.

"Come on, let's go in and ask." He took He Yushui's hand and walked into the courtyard.

He had barely taken half a step inside when a sharp, sarcastic voice burst out from within.

"Get out of here!!"

A woman in her early thirties stood in the courtyard, hands on her hips, her face contorted with rage as if she'd swallowed a fly. She pointed at Sha Zhu and yelled, "He Daqing's not here! Get out of here! Don't get in my way!"

She was wearing a red cotton-padded jacket with a floral pattern, and her hair was permed. Her eyebrows and eyes were indeed quite pretty, but there was a hint of meanness in her eyes. When she looked at people, it was as if she were examining something dirty.

Sha Zhu stood there, his steps faltering, and his heart skipped a beat.

It has to be said that He Daqing has a good eye. This woman is indeed quite good-looking, with a great figure and a beautiful face. But the moment she opens her mouth, all good impressions are ruined.

He spoke in a humble voice, "Auntie, we just want to see him, ask him what's going on, and then..."

"Stop asking!" the white widow interrupted him, her voice shrill and sharp, like a knife scraping through sheet metal. "He Daqing said he despises you as a burden! Get out of here! Or I'll have you beaten to death and fed to the dogs!"

Sure enough, two men stood behind her, holding sticks and glaring menacingly at Sha Zhu.

Sha Zhu took a half step back, glanced at the white widow, then at the two men with sticks, his lips pressed into a line, his clenched fists loosening and then clenching again.

If he were alone, he would have charged up and fought this woman today.

But his sister was right next to him. How old was He Yushui?

What will she do if a fight really breaks out?

"Let's go." He grabbed He Yushui's hand, turned around and walked towards the courtyard gate, taking quick and large steps.

He Yushui was pulled along by him. She turned around and glanced at the woman in the yard who was standing with her hands on her hips cursing. Tears welled up in her eyes again.

Sha Zhu pulled her a few dozen steps away, stopped under a bare locust tree, let go of her hand, and turned his back.

He Yushui noticed his shoulders were trembling and couldn't help but walk around to face him: "Brother..."

Sha Zhu lowered his head, and tears welled up unexpectedly, streaming down his cheeks and staining the front of his cotton-padded jacket, leaving dark dots.

He was a sixteen-year-old boy when his father ran away without a word, leaving him and his younger sister alone.

He should have been studying in school or learning a craft from a master in the kitchen, but now he has to support a family.

He hated his father, hated the widow who stole his father away, and hated himself for not being able to give his sister a better life.

What happens after that's all the hate?

Life goes on.

He wiped his face hard with his sleeve, sniffed, and tried to make his voice sound calm: "Don't cry. Since Dad isn't home, let's go to his factory and take a look."

He took out the address given to him by his great-grandfather Zhang Rende, which had the words "Baoding Machinery Factory" written on it, along with the specific house number.

He Yushui wiped away her tears, nodded, and followed in Sha Zhu's footsteps.

Inside the Baoding Machinery Factory, Zhang Renfeng had just taken a few bites of food. The taste was indeed quite good. The dishes looked ordinary, but the cooking time and seasoning were just right, much better than what he had eaten at the command post.

He put down his chopsticks and praised the people at the table, saying, "Li Yunlong, Zhao Gang, you should try it too, it's really quite good."

Upon hearing this, Li Yunlong picked up a chopstick and put it in his mouth, his eyes lighting up: "Hey! This tastes damn good! Much better than the food from our military canteen."

Zhao Gang also picked up a piece of food with his chopsticks, chewed it slowly, and suddenly his eyebrows twitched slightly, and his expression became a little subtle.

He remembered that taste.

Last year, when Commander Zhang got married, the chef at No. 43 Lingjing Hutong made dishes with this same flavor.

The chef was said to be Commander Zhang's neighbor, and he was the head chef at Zhengyanglou Restaurant in Beiping. He was a master chef who could make the "Three White Dishes" dish with unparalleled skill.

Zhao Gang put down his chopsticks and looked at Cheng Erkang sitting opposite him: "Team Leader Cheng, could you please bring this chef over? I need to say a few words to him."

Cheng Erkang responded, got up, walked to the window, and shouted inside, "Master He, come here for a moment, the boss wants to see you."

A short while later, a middle-aged man of about forty years old came out of the kitchen, still wearing an apron and holding a rag in his hand, wiping sweat from his face as he walked.