The Game of Life TGOL

Chapter 300: Chapter 299: The True Pigeon King

“Grandpa, what are you talking about?” Sun Jikai wanted to laugh, but couldn’t muster it.

He really wanted to ask if this was a joke, but he knew very well that Master Sun was not a person who joked around.

Neither Master Sun nor Assistant Wang had expressions that looked like they were joking.

Sun Jikai felt his lips were heavy, so heavy that he couldn’t open them. His tongue tasted bitter, too bitter to move.

He felt the air growing oppressive, suffocating him.

Master Sun sighed and said to Assistant Wang, “You tell him.”

Assistant Wang handed a document bag to Sun Jikai.

“Master Sun started feeling unwell before the New Year, but there were so many things to do that he didn’t pay attention to it and didn’t go to the hospital for a check-up. After the Good Taste Culinary Competition finished, Master Sun felt a constant pain in his chest and had difficulty breathing, which led him to finally undergo a medical check-up, and the results…”

Sun Jikai opened the document bag. Inside were Master Sun’s medical records and test reports, filled with professional terms he couldn’t understand, and he hadn’t even heard of the diagnosed illness.

“The doctor said that there are lesions in Master Sun’s liver and lungs. His lungs are riddled with holes, the lung function only 20% of a normal person’s, and it has reached a point where he can hardly expel carbon dioxide. The liver lesions can be surgically removed, but given Master Sun’s age, the doctors say it’s unlikely he’ll be able to withstand a full surgery, and even if…”

“And even if the liver lesions can be surgically removed, there’s no cure for the lungs,” Sun Jikai looked at the medical reports in his hands.

Master Sun’s body was now like an old machine whose parts were increasingly failing. Fixing one part would be followed by the breakdown of another, some even damaged beyond repair.

Repairing it wouldn’t bring health, only pain.

Surgery could prolong life, but that extended life would be one of suffering.

So he had chosen medical treatment and was quietly waiting for death.

“Yes, just like that,” Assistant Wang swallowed hard. “The doctor said if he’s lucky, Master Sun might make it past the New Year.”

Sun Jikai had never detested the word “luck” so much.

“Jikai, don’t be too sad, life and death are predestined, and these are all natural laws,” Master Sun in turn comforted Sun Jikai. “Grandfather has half a year left. Study well, and I will teach well. The future of Jubao Building will rest on you.”

“Okay,” Sun Jikai never felt that a simple word could feel so heavy, like a thousand pounds.

Master Sun exhaled a deep breath.

Before his days were numbered, he had never stopped to look at the people around him.

He wasn’t a good father, nor was he a good grandfather.

He had missed nearly all of his two sons’ childhood and adolescence, and couldn’t even recall what they looked like as young boys.

He favored the healthy, lively, intelligent, and extraordinarily talented eldest grandson, Sun Jikai, and always overlooked his younger grandson, Sun Zhengqing, who was frail, shy, inactive, and not good at socializing since childhood.

He knew his eldest daughter-in-law was a greedy and short-sighted fool but habitually ignored her without offering guidance.

He once thought he had plenty of time, that he could first use his time and energy to stabilize the declining reputation of Jubao Building. He thought he could first sort out the family-run restaurant before dealing with family affairs.

But he was wrong. He had no more time.

He wasn’t a superhero, nor was he immortal; he couldn’t do everything. On the contrary, trying to take care of both, he ended up neglecting both ends.

Only when he stopped and looked back did he realize.

The status of Jubao Building as the number one restaurant in FJ was in peril, and the eldest grandson, who he favored and doted on for over twenty years, had been led astray by his foolish daughter-in-law.

His eldest son was as ever indecisive and weak, but his younger son turned out to be unexpectedly upright and kind-hearted.

What frightened Master Sun the most was that when he finally stopped to spend his last days with his family, attempting to start understanding them, he was terrified to find out.

His younger son didn’t seem as kind-hearted, honest, and pitiable as he appeared on the surface.

On the contrary, the continuous subtle maneuvers behind the scenes and the stark contrast to the oppressed image presented to the world by the eldest son were an act so convincing it was frightening.

So, he made a decision.

He hardened his heart and drove Sun Jikai out of the house, forbidding anyone to aid him. He sent him to Beiping, to Taifeng Building.

He had to administer a drastic remedy; he had to straighten out his grandson before he died, so that he could hand over Jubao Building to him with peace of mind.

Fortunately, Sun Jikai was back on the right track.

Master Sun knew he owed Jiang Weiguo another favor. It’s just a pity he was dying, he had too many things left undone, and he could only wait until the next life to repay this debt.

“When you go back, keep your distance from those cousins; you’re not a child anymore, you’ve had your own experiences, there are some people and things you should see clearly,” said Master Sun.

“Mmm,” Sun Jikai’s mood remained low.

“Zhengqing is a good kid, he’s been very concerned about you these days.”

“I know.” Sun Jikai thought of the zongzi Sun Zhengqing had sent him for the Dragon Boat Festival.

He was very clear in his heart that his mother was not a good person, his father always listened to her, his uncle and aunt were not good people, and neither was he.

It seemed that in their Sun Family, only their cousin Sun Zhengqing was a decent person.

Yet knowing that his mother’s words and actions were full of selfish desires, why had he always listened to her?

“`

Maybe I was possessed back then.

Sun Jikai couldn’t think of any other explanation.

The hospital had arrived.

Sun Jikai helped Sun Guanyun out of the car.

He loved his grandfather, because he knew his grandfather loved him.

He didn’t hate his mother, because he knew his mother didn’t love him.

On the other hand, inside the Taifeng Building, Jiang Feng was regretting the loss of an excellent employee who was willing to work overtime without asking for extra pay or anything in return.

A pure and good comrade like Sun Jikai was not easy to find these days.

The menu at Taifeng Building was about to have many dishes discontinued, and permanently at that.

Jiang Feng let out a deep sigh.

“What’s wrong?” Wu Minqi asked.

“Sun Jikai is going back to the Jubao Building, and I was thinking if we should organize a farewell party or something,” Jiang Feng said.

“A farewell party?” Wu Minqi thought for a moment, “But he is leaving tonight.”

“Tonight? How do you know?”

Wu Minqi took out her phone, opened WeChat, scrolled to Moments, and the first post was from Sun Jikai.

“Heading home.”

Below it were three pictures of plane tickets, with the time showing 7:20 tonight.

Jiang Feng usually didn’t check WeChat Moments during the day, only scrolling through it before sleep.

As the two were talking, the two old men came in.

Jiang Weiguo, seeing Sun Jikai wasn’t in the kitchen, asked, “Did old man Sun take Sun Jikai away?”

“Yeah, about an hour ago,” Jiang Feng said.

“That was quick action. What’s the hurry with that old guy?” Jiang Weiguo muttered. “His voice on the phone also seemed strange. What is he plotting?”

When Jiang Feng heard Jiang Weiguo say this, he suddenly also remembered what had felt off to him before.

Sun Guanyun’s voice was not right.

To be more accurate, the state of his voice was not right.

It was aged, hoarse, and lacked a strong breath. Sun Guanyun had coughed at least seven or eight times within a short half-hour.

Sick?

“Right, the people from ‘Taste’ magazine just called, saying they’ll come for an interview tomorrow, so prepare yourselves. Zhang Guanghang has the day off, so call him later to let him know,” Jiang Weiguo continued.

Jiang Feng immediately put Sun Guanyun out of his mind.

If ‘Taste’ magazine, or to be more accurate, if Xu Cheng kept flaking like this, Jiang Feng was going to forget that ‘Taste’ still owed Taifeng Building a cover feature, and him, Wu Minqi, and Zhang Guanghang a personal interview each.

Xu Cheng, as the king of flakers, no matter how he flaked, others would always find it normal.

Even if he flaked on this issue of ‘Taste,’ nobody would think it odd.

He had done such a thing before.

Back when ‘Taste’ was still a monthly, he frequently flaked on an entire month’s publication.

Jiang Feng took a deep breath, stood tall and proud, and internally exclaimed: the day had finally come.

After the Good Taste Cooking Competition, he had flipped through ten years of ‘Taste’ magazines from start to finish, paying special attention to the feature interviews with various famous chefs.

The feature wasn’t just about the food; it also dedicated a significant portion to the chefs and the restaurants where they worked. The content was a hodgepodge, written according to the unique traits of each chef, but the theme was the same: dishes.

“What time tomorrow?” Jiang Feng asked.

“After the noon service I guess, Xu Cheng has booked a private room and ordered dishes that belong to you three,” Jiang Weiguo said.

Jiang Feng’s smile gradually stiffened.

“All of them?”

“Yeah, even those unsellable dishes of yours have been ordered,” Jiang Weiguo said.

Jiang Feng’s smile disappeared entirely.

“Won tons won’t do, they have all been reserved, ordered by Xue Shaoheng,” Jiang Feng quickly shifted the blame to Xue Shaoheng.

Li Hongzhang’s hodgepodge is fine, but purely meat-filled won tons are absolutely non-negotiable.

Purely meat-filled won tons are my final bottom line!

“`

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