Chapter 178: Eating Roast Duck

There's an old saying: a real aunt, a fake aunt, and a half‑true half‑false one is an aunt.

When Lu Ying saw her older brother's daughter, she smothered Qing'er with slobbery kisses.

Lu Cheng knew that today's roast duck was a chance.

"Sister, sister, don't just be so eager—Qing'er was just whining about being hungry."

Lu Ying kept being eager, her cheek rubbing Qing'er's little face: "Is that so, Qing'er? Then shall we see if grandma has prepared the noodles? Come, little aunt will take you…"

"Hey, sis!" Lu Cheng hurriedly grabbed her: "Um, I just asked Qing'er, she specifically said she wants roast duck."

Lu Ying turned back and gave a white‑eyed glance: "Does she even know what roast duck is? I think it's you who wants to eat it."

"I just want to snag a few bites," Lu Cheng said with a teasing smile: "Besides, it's not that I want to eat it; look, your own niece is here, you as an aunt have to show some hospitality."

Lu Ying hesitated a bit; after all, a roast duck isn't cheap—it costs about half a month's wage for an ordinary worker.

Eating it like that would be too extravagant; it's far more practical to buy Qing'er a few outfits.

Seeing his sister didn't agree right away, Lu Cheng kept coaxing: "Alright, just now Dad and Mom each gave me a contribution of one unit of money; I'll put up the bulk, and I'll add the rest. Today I'm treating; you, as an aunt, at least buy Qing'er two outfits."

"You're treating? You're so generous today?"

Lu Ying said skeptically, then agreed: "Fine then, wait, I'll go fetch my savings; after we finish the roast duck, I'll buy Qing'er some clothes."

Qing'er's cotton‑padded jacket was the patched kind, and Lu Ying, as an aunt, couldn't help feeling a pang of sorrow.

When Lu Ying took out all her saved money, preparing to tiptoe out, Chen Xianglan saw it.

"Ying Ying, dinner's ready, where are you going again?"

Lu Ying could only speak plainly: "Lu Cheng said he wants to take Qing'er to eat roast duck, to give her some extra nourishment; I plan to, after eating, take Qing'er to buy a few outfits."

Chen Xianglan glared: "Your brother only knows how to eat fancy food; that roast duck is ridiculously expensive, what's so good about it? With that little money, cutting a few pounds of fatty pork is far more economical, same nourishment."

"Mom, just let us indulge once, just once, thank you, Mom." Lu Ying swung her mother's arm: "How about it, Mom, you and Dad go together?"

"We won't go. With so many people, one roast duck won't fill us, and ordering other dishes costs even more."

"I already called you; it's you who aren't going, I'm leaving."

Thinking they'd be taking their granddaughter, Chen Xianglan had to agree.

When a bowl of noodles was brought to the table, only two bowls were placed; Lu Beitang set down the newspaper and asked: "Weren't we supposed to stir‑fry?"

The granddaughter arrived; Chen Xianglan was preparing potato stew with meat, and had borrowed two taels of meat from Pang Ya, planning to repay it next time.

"No stir‑fry, just noodles; the three of them went to eat roast duck."

"Hey, those brat rabbits, why didn't they take the two of us?"

"We went, so who's supposed to eat this bowl of noodles!"

Lu Beitang could only sit down begrudgingly, thinking of roast duck while eating noodles, which grew more tasteless with each bite.

"What kind of life is this? Son eats roast duck, old man eats noodles, together we have five yuan, not even enough for a duck's rump."

Chen Xianglan glanced: "You only gave him five yuan? I gave him two; can that afford roast duck?"

"What? You gave two yuan?" Lu Beitang, losing interest in the noodles, said: "That brat tricked me again; he said you gave ten yuan."

"Alright, alright, whatever amount, it's taken from your granddaughter's money, how can you call it a trick! Just eat your noodles."

……

At the entrance of Quanjude, Lu Cheng looked up at the low, gray‑brick building with a shaggy roof; its windows were wooden lattices, and the door plaque bore the three big characters "De Ju Quan".

Lu Ying, cradling Qing'er in her arms, watched curiously all the way, the little head turning left then right.

They entered through a heavy wind‑blocking cotton curtain; inside it was bustling.

They hadn't expected a roast duck to be so pricey, yet so many people came to eat; of course most were leaders or factory folks treating, willing to splurge this once.

Inside, they could hear someone remark: "Factory Director Hu, you should try this roast duck; it's a Capital City specialty, even foreign heads of state come to taste it."

The person called Factory Director Hu was probably a subordinate state‑run plant manager from somewhere; tasting roast duck for the first time, he showed a deeply satisfied expression.

Just as Lu Cheng was looking around, a server came over and greeted: "Comrade, how many?"

"Two adults, one child."

"Alright, then let's sit at Table Five." The server shouted: "Table Five, three people, bring them over!"

Finding Table Five, just as they sat down another server with a menu came over: "Comrade, take a look at the menu."

Lu Cheng took it, glanced over, and set it on the table.

"Excuse me, chef, first bring a whole roast duck, pick a fattier one, two servings, the duck frame for soup, and add extra cabbage and vermicelli to the broth."

Watching the server jot down on a small notebook, Lu Cheng continued: "Also a serving of braised duck four treasures, a serving of drunken duck three whites, a serving of marinated duck feet, a serving of fire‑seared duck heart, and a glass of draft beer."

The server scribbled quickly, then said: "Whoa, Comrade, it's crowded today, you arrived a bit late; the duck three whites aren't guaranteed today, let me check for you first."

"Alright, if not, give me a cold platter instead."

While the server ran to the back kitchen to place the order, Lu Cheng turned around and saw his sister staring at him with an odd look.

"Sister, why are you looking at me like that? Is there something on my face?"

"You're so practiced at ordering, you've been here a lot, you eat alone!"

Lu Cheng was speechless: "Who said I ate alone? This is my first time here; I've just heard about it a lot, so it's inevitable I remembered it."

"Tsk, who would believe you!"

Lu Ying turned and, still eager, said to Qing'er: "Qing'er, see? This uncle is a big bad guy; don't play with him anymore, play with little aunt…"

The two played around for a while, then the duck‑carving master pushed a cart to the table.

Watching the master slice the duck was also a performance; Qing'er's two big eyes stared fixedly.

The duck‑carving master was highly skilled; each slice of meat was uniformly sized and thick, and his hand speed was swift.

After carving a whole duck, the duck frame was taken back to make soup; shortly, a bowl of snowy‑white broth was brought out.

Lu Ying and Qing'er kept staring at the roast duck on the table, their mouths watering.

Lu Cheng first lifted the draft beer, took a sip, and laughed: "Don't just stare, start eating. I'm treating today, there are no outsiders, so eat heartily until you're stuffed."

Lu Ying nodded, "Then I'll give Qing Er a roll first."

A palm‑sized lotus‑leaf pancake, thin as a cicada's wing.

First spread Quanjude's special sweet bean sauce, then add a few slices of duck meat, top with cucumber shreds and scallion shreds; it's so fragrant it makes your mouth water.

Thinking Qing Er is still young and probably doesn't like scallions, Lu Ying removes the scallion shreds and adds a few more cucumber shreds.

Qing Er takes it in hand, only takes a tiny bite, and ends up merely nibbling the lotus‑leaf pancake, not even getting any meat.

Lu Cheng sees this and says, "Qing Er, open your mouth and swallow it in one bite."

Lu Ying says, "She's a little girl; she can't compare with you rough man! A little girl should eat more gracefully."

Lu Cheng retorts, "Elegant? What a joke. This is roast duck; you have to take it in one bite to make it tasty."

Lu Ying thinks that's right, and makes Qing Er open wide, stuffing the whole wrapped lotus‑leaf pancake into it.

"Ha ha, is it tasty, Qing Er?"

Qing Er nods while mumbling incoherently, which makes Lu Ying laugh again.

On the train, Lu Cheng hasn't had much oily food for several days, and when a bite of skin‑on duck meat is shoved in, it's crispy and fragrant, oozing oil in his mouth.

The meal was quite satisfying, but at checkout, the satisfaction vanished.