"One person gets two cornbread buns, so half a jin of grain coupons should do."
Li Xiangdong took the grain coupons from his mother, stuffed them in his pocket, handed his daughter to his wife, and got up to leave.
At that moment, Grandpa Li said, "Dongzi, hold on. This bowl of fermented tofu on the table hasn't been touched. Take it over to add a dish."
Li Xiangdong shook his head. "No need. Azhe's place still has plenty of meat, enough for us to drink with tonight. Keep the fermented tofu for you and Grandma."
"You're taking it because your grandpa said so. What, you think our family can't spare a plate of tofu? Or is carrying fermented tofu embarrassing for you?"
Li's father was a bit miffed. He'd planned to use the fermented tofu as a drinking snack, and now it was gone.
It wasn't that he was stingy—he understood basic courtesy. His third son brought back so much meat, so their family should contribute something in return.
He was just frustrated, having only eaten one piece of pig liver. Now, with no proper drinking snack, he'd be stuck with pickled radish at home while his youngest son went out to feast and drink. It just didn't sit right with him, and he was annoyed at his son!
"Look at you talking like that. Fine, I'll take it."
It wasn't just that his grandparents had gotten up early to buy the tofu at the market—some places even treated tofu like meat these days. How could Li Xiangdong possibly complain?
He just thought the tofu was soft and easy to chew, perfect for his elderly grandparents, and wanted them to keep it for themselves.
"Don't drink too much tonight."
As he stepped out with the fermented tofu, hearing his mother's words behind him, Li Xiangdong grinned. The pork head meat had softened her tone considerably.
By the time he reached Azhe's place, Qian Bin, Xiang Lin, and the others had already returned from their homes and were sitting around the table, chatting while waiting for him. Each had a full cup of Erguotou liquor in front of them.
"Dongzi, sit here."
Li Xiangdong set the fermented tofu on the table and took the empty seat.
The table was loaded: a bamboo basket full of cornbread buns, a big basin of braised meat and offal, and a large plate of stir-fried intestines.
Besides the fermented tofu Li Xiangdong brought, there was also a dish of pickled radish and a plate of scrambled eggs.
Li Xiangdong also noticed an extra bottle of liquor. Clearly, everyone had come prepared, and no one showed up empty-handed.
"Not bad, Binzi. You even made a dipping sauce for the pork head meat."
"Of course. My skills aren't just talk."
Qian Bin's tone was full of pride.
Li Xiangdong flicked the grain coupons and handed them to Azhe.
Azhe didn't make a fuss, took the coupons, and glanced at them. "Damn, only half a jin? Dongzi, couldn't you bring a bit more for your buddies?"
"What are you dreaming about? I'm eating two of your cornbread buns. How much more do you want? Should I haul the grain store over for you?"
Li Xiangdong recalled his big brother joking about him robbing the meat factory and used it right back.
Azhe grinned cheekily. "Sure, if you dare bring it, I dare take it. When you get thrown in jail, I'll visit you and bring a couple of cornbread buns."
"Pfft, pfft, pfft!"
Li Xiangdong spat a few times for good luck—that was too ominous. "Get lost. You're the one going to jail. Where's your dad? Isn't he eating with us?"
"My dad's already drinking in the east wing. Besides, you're too slow, going home to deliver…"
Azhe stopped mid-sentence, noticing Xiang Lin, sitting across from him, pick up his chopsticks and start eating the meat. "Damn it, Little Linzi, where's your manners? I, the host, haven't even spoken, and you're already eating? Put those chopsticks down!"
As if Xiang Lin would listen to Azhe. Not only did he keep eating, he also called Qian Bin and Zhang Sen to join in.
"Let's eat first and let these two keep yapping."
Li Xiangdong and Azhe weren't about to listen to Xiang Lin either. They stopped talking—any more chatter, and they'd be left with just bones.
Their chopsticks moved so fast they practically blurred!
Though Li Xiangdong had just been reborn from the future, his body craved meat so badly he had to dive in and eat.
After a frenzy of gobbling, they finally slowed down, picked up their cups, clinked them twice in a row, and started chatting idly.
Azhe, face flushed and a bit tipsy, was gnawing on a pig's trotter while asking, "Dongzi, what were you dawdling for at home? You've got meat to eat, and you didn't hurry over?"
"What else would Dongzi be dawdling for? Couldn't bear to leave his wife!"
Among their group, only Xiang Lin, with his shameless streak, would say something like that.
"Haha, I believe Xiao Linzi. After all, Dongzi worked hard to win his wife over. He's probably worried sick about leaving her alone. If she ran off, Dongzi would cry his eyes out."
Though they teased him, they were all secretly jealous of Li Xiangdong for landing such a great wife.
Unlike their own wives, who bickered over trivial things, complained passive-aggressively, or picked fights with the kids for no reason, making it impossible to feel at ease at home.
"Cut the nonsense. My wife and I have two kids already. Don't go spreading rumors."
Li Xiangdong chuckled. This wasn't the first time—every gathering, they'd rib him like this. He knew deep down it was just their envy and jealousy.
Among his friends, they were about equal in most things—nobody stood out.
But when it came to wives, he was absolutely number one, and he'd been proud of that his whole life!
"Dongzi, this fermented tofu from your place is pretty good."
"Sanmu's pickled radish is tasty too—so crisp, even better than my mom's."
"Damn, Binzi, why'd you put so much chili in this?"
"The spicier, the tastier—don't you get it?"
The stir-fried intestines were bright red with chili peppers, getting hotter with every bite.
Qian Bin could handle the spice, and Azhe, having spent a few years in the southwest, was fine with the heat too.
But Li Xiangdong and the other two couldn't take it. Add in the liquor, and they were sweating buckets. The three of them yanked off their tank tops, slung them over their shoulders, and ate shirtless.
Zhang Sen's eyes were red from the spice, but he and Xiang Lin, despite complaining about the heat, were grabbing food faster than anyone.
Li Xiangdong tried a couple of bites at first, found it too spicy, and held back. Eating so much meat all at once was already tough on his stomach. If he kept eating spicy food, he'd be up all night with a bad stomach, and he wouldn't make it to the train station for his report tomorrow.
After eating and drinking their fill, it was pitch dark outside.
The table was spotless—plates and bowls licked clean, even the grease wiped up with cornbread buns.
Three bottles of 60-proof Erguotou were mostly gone. Li Xiangdong, knowing he had important business tomorrow, limited himself to two liang (about 100ml).
The rest was polished off by Xiang Lin and the other three, who were now drunk out of their minds, slurring nonsense and swaying in their chairs.
Li Xiangdong said, "Alright, brothers, it's getting late. Let's call it a night."
"Call… call… it…"
"Drank… hic… can't move…"
Xiang Lin and Zhang Sen could barely string words together.
Azhe was worse, mumbling something Li Xiangdong couldn't even make out.
He looked at Qian Bin, who seemed relatively sober, and asked, "You holding up okay?"
Qian Bin let out a boozy burp. "I'm fine. This much liquor's nothing."
"Really fine or fake fine?"
Drunk people had glassy, unfocused eyes. With anyone else, Li Xiangdong could tell if they were wasted just by looking.
But with Qian Bin, that trick didn't work!
Those tiny, squinting eyes—nobody could damn well tell anything from them!