Song Tan’s Chronicle - Chapter 128.2

In less than a minute, his custom-made sandwich, crispy on the outside, soft inside, and rich in layers, was ready.

On the bone china plate, as white as the moon, two round, plump orioles were painted. Beneath their pointed beaks, a green lettuce leaf peeked out from the sandwich.

Only then did Lu Chuan sit down at the dining table. He carefully scooped a spoonful of honey and drizzled it over the black sesame-topped glutinous rice porridge.

Honey black sesame glutinous rice porridge, beef and fried egg sandwich.

—A perfect lunch.

The honey’s fresh and sweet flavor was so dominant that it easily overshadowed the aroma of the proteins. Unable to resist, he gently stirred the porridge with his spoon and then eagerly took a bite.

The clean, sweet taste, accentuated by the sesame and glutinous rice, was especially pronounced.

But before he could savor it fully, the doorbell rang again.

When he opened the door, Lu Jing was standing there, sniffing and smiling with delight:

“It smells so good, Ah Chuan. What did you make? Didn’t I tell you not to cook for now?”

She changed her shoes and, despite receiving no reply, kept talking, “I sent a message asking that young lady if she sells her farm products, only to find out you messaged her to change the delivery address.”

“Ah Chuan, didn’t you say you don’t like interacting with people? I guess the food was just too good, and you couldn’t resist.”

Turning to see the simply packaged jar of honey on the table, with its sweet aroma lingering in the air, she was certain: “This must be what the girl sent again, right? How many jars did you get? Share some with Mom.”

Lu Chuan frowned slightly:

“At the hospital, I remember you saying that if we ask for the price so abruptly, she might send us more things for free.”

Lu Jing knew it wasn’t appropriate, but…

But…

“But her food is really delicious!”

Lu Chuan recalled the last bit of Chinese Milk Vetch carefully stored in the fridge, even wrapped in beeswax paper to preserve it, and remained silent, lowering his eyes.

Lu Jing didn’t mind the lack of response.

Her son had always been a man of few words, so she expertly screwed the honey jar lid back on and slipped it into her handbag.

Her movements were so natural and practiced that Lu Chuan, still holding the spoon, stared for a long time, feeling that something wasn’t quite right.

Then he frowned:

“Mom, when she sent the Chinese Milk Vetch, she said it was almost gone—why did you ask again?”

Lu Jing looked a little embarrassed.

“You were in the hospital for a month. Mom joined a support group, and you know, anyone who can afford to stay at Ren’ai Hospital has a bit of money… We were eating dumplings every day back then, and the patients from nearby wards kept asking about them.”

No matter how much she closed the door and ventilated the room, some aroma always lingered.

Especially the man in the ward opposite, who stood there with a crutch like a beggar, just staring over here.

Eventually, Lu Jing couldn’t resist and shared some twice, but the aroma spread, and more people in the group kept asking.

The ten pounds of wild vegetables were quickly gone.

Then came the Chinese Milk Vetch, just a little bit, and Lu Jing had fried it and eaten it in two meals at home, and now she was craving more.

The tea was really good. She sent it as a gift in return, and early this morning, the recipient had already messaged her again.

How good was it?

She counted every single leaf when she brewed it. She had never been this meticulous before, even with saffron.

In short, the more she drank, the more uneasy she felt, worried that she wouldn’t be able to find such good things again.

When Lu Chuan didn’t respond to her message for half an hour, she just drove over.

But facing her son, she couldn’t be too blunt.

So Lu Jing hesitated for a moment and said, “I just thought… I heard it’s hard to sell things from the countryside. If they’re available, it’s good to know the price so I can promote them to my friends and relatives.”

Back when she was pregnant, she divorced and moved to the capital. Over the years, she had only made two or three friends—where would she get relatives from?

But Lu Chuan’s heart was stirred.

He could no longer recall the girl’s face clearly, but he vaguely remembered that when he dragged her from the car, she was clutching a huge canvas bag bought for ten yuan at a night market, with a noticeable crooked seam on her coat.

Her clothes were cheap and plain.

Recalling what Lu Jing had just said, he nodded slightly:

“Well… I’ll ask her later.”

The girl was living in a mountain village, and her life seemed quite difficult. Yet, she was still so generous in sending things. He couldn’t bring himself to refuse.