Chapter 213: Delivering Chili Peppers

The snow on the road was thick and had been compacted by large vehicles, making it hard and slippery. Rouqiu didn’t dare ride too fast, so their speed was only slightly quicker than walking. Despite waking up early, by the time Rouqiu and Lin Fang arrived at school, the second class had already ended.

At lunch, Lin Fang opened a bottle of chili oil she had brought and let her classmates try it. She ate a little herself but didn’t dare have too much, just as Lin Yuanmin had advised. Her stomach had just recovered from a sensitivity to chili, so it was best not to overstimulate it.

Some of the girls in the dorm had also brought chili, but compared to theirs, Lin Fang’s was much tastier. By the end of the meal, nearly half the bottle was gone. Lin Fang was delighted—if she ever decided to sell it, business probably wouldn’t be too bad.

After lunch, Lin Fang asked Rouqiu to accompany her to deliver bottles of chili oil to Teacher Gao and Teacher Qiu, one for each.

Lin Fang also brought two extra bottles. She planned to return a book to the bookstore owner and give him one as thanks for letting her read for free. That way, she’d feel more confident borrowing books in the future. The bookstore happened to be on the way to the teachers’ residential area of No. 1 High School.

As for the last bottle, Lin Fang wanted to try her luck—maybe she’d run into Teacher Wang in the residential area. She remembered Teacher Wang loved spicy food. If she could casually give him a bottle while delivering to Teacher Gao and Teacher Qiu, it wouldn’t seem too deliberate, especially since Teacher Wang didn’t know her yet.

Lin Yuanmin’s workplace, in addition to handling cotton, had started a side business making canned fruit. In the first few years after his retirement, the company couldn’t pay pensions, so they gave each retiree four crates of canned fruit per month instead. If you could sell them, the money was your salary. If you couldn’t, that was your problem—the company wouldn’t take responsibility.

Back then, many places were making canned goods. At first, people were honest, but as more and more got into the business, sales became harder. Some cut costs by using saccharin instead of sugar and lowered prices.

The cotton station director was a principled man and refused to do that. His cans always used real sugar, and plenty of it, so costs were high. He couldn’t lower prices—that would mean losing money for nothing.

Because of the high price, the canned goods were hard to sell. No matter how much Lin Yuanmin advertised their quality, the price was a barrier. He barely sold a few bottles a month. Eventually, he had to lower prices too, but even then, sales were dismal. He nearly hurt his back lugging the crates around before finally giving up. He gave some to relatives and friends and ate the rest himself.

Four crates a month, twenty-four bottles per crate—even if he gave away half, that still left forty-eight bottles a month. They ate the contents but kept the jars because even scrap collectors wouldn’t take them. Over the years, Lin Fang’s yard accumulated a towering pile of empty jars. So now, the one thing her family didn’t lack was glass jars.

“Oh, you brought me a bottle of chili oil just for a pirated book? You’re too kind! Thank you! What a coincidence—I really do love chili.”

In the bookstore, Lin Guicheng accepted the bottle with delight, carefully placing it in the cash register drawer.

“That’s great! My family doesn’t have much to offer, but my mom’s cooking is excellent. I wasn’t sure what you’d like and worried you might not appreciate the gift. But I’m not exaggerating—her chili oil is really delicious. You’ll see once you try it, haha.”

“Wonderful! I’ll taste it later.”

“Great! I’ll head out now—got other things to do.”

She didn’t dare linger. The roads were slippery, and riding was already slow. Any more delays and they might miss afternoon classes. Neither she nor Rouqiu feared being late, but if they were, Teacher Gao and Teacher Qiu would surely scold them, which wouldn’t be good. So Lin Fang bid Lin Guicheng farewell and hurried out of the bookstore.

Rouqiu was waiting outside on his motorcycle, engine still running, ready to go as soon as she emerged.

Just as they reached the main road, Lin Guicheng called from behind, “Lin Fang, wait! I have something to tell you.”

Lin Fang got off the motorcycle and walked back. “What is it, Uncle Cheng?” she asked, feeling increasingly that Lin Guicheng seemed oddly familiar.

“Oh, could you come by when you have time? There’s something I’d like to discuss.” His eyes held a hopeful glint.

“Sure. I’ll come after lunch this afternoon.”

She had already arranged with Teacher Qiu to visit the teachers’ residential area after lunch each day, returning to school before evening study hall. The bookstore was just a detour, so she agreed readily.

When they arrived at Teacher Gao’s home, the housekeeper was cooking.

“Lin Fang and Rouqiu are here? Perfect timing—my old man was just about to eat. It’s no fun eating alone, and Xiao Liu is too stubborn to join. You two can keep me company.”

Teacher Gao had both sons and daughters, but they had their own families and jobs and weren’t around. Only his housekeeper accompanied him daily. His children had repeatedly invited him to live with them, but Teacher Gao refused, preferring to live independently.

“Teacher Gao, you go ahead. We’ve already eaten. I came to bring you and Teacher Qiu some chili oil my mom made. It’s great with rice or steamed buns.” As Lin Fang spoke, Rouqiu dutifully pulled two bottles from his backpack and placed them on the table—one for Teacher Gao and one for Teacher Qiu, which Teacher Gao would pass along.

Teacher Gao was from the south and loved rice, eating it for both lunch and dinner, along with chili.

“Oh? What a treat! Let me try. Xiao Liu, bring me chopsticks.”

“Coming.”

“Xiao Liu” was Teacher Gao’s housekeeper, a spry woman in her seventies. She had started working for the Gao family as a teenager and never left, except during the turbulent years. Despite having children and grandchildren, she chose to stay with Teacher Gao at No. 1 High School to care for him.

Teacher Gao’s home was filled with books. Aside from the entrance wall, the other two walls of the living room were lined with bookshelves.

Of the two rooms at either end of the living room, one was Teacher Gao’s bedroom, which, aside from a bed and desk, was also stacked with books. The other room had kitchenware and a bed—it served as both kitchen and the housekeeper’s bedroom.

This setup was among the best in the teachers’ residential area, with three rooms. Most homes there had only two rooms, and the kitchens were separate, located in a shared area in the center of the compound—small, cramped spaces just big enough to turn around in.

Teacher Gao’s family originally had one of these kitchen cubicles, but with just him and the elderly housekeeper, running back and forth was inconvenient, so they cooked inside instead.

The dining table was in the middle of the living room. While waiting, Teacher Gao opened the bottle, and a rich, spicy aroma filled the air. “Mmm, smells amazing. Must be delicious.”

“What’s so fragrant and tasty? Teacher Gao, what treasure have you acquired now?”

Before Lin Fang could reply, a voice came from outside, and a woman around fifty entered.

“Aunt Kang.” Recognizing her, Lin Fang greeted politely.

This was Lin Yuanmin’s former colleague, the one who had revealed that No. 2 High School’s experimental class was just a money-making scheme. Her husband now taught at No. 2 High School. Lin Fang had visited her home once with Lin Yuanmin at the start of the semester and knew she lived in the No. 1 High School residential area. Her daughter taught English there.

Aunt Kang didn’t recognize Lin Fang at first but after a moment said, “Lin girl? What are you doing here?”

“Sss—delicious!” Teacher Gao took the chopsticks from the housekeeper, dipped the tip into the chili oil, and sucked on it. Mumbling, he said, “You two know each other? Lin Fang brought me chili oil. She’s also the assistant I found for Xiao Qiu.”

“Ah, your name is Lin Fang? So you’re the student assistant?” Aunt Kang’s tone and expression were exaggerated.

“Yes, Aunt Kang. My mom made chili oil, and I brought you a bottle too. I was just about to deliver it after giving some to Teacher Gao and Teacher Qiu.” Lin Fang’s words weren’t entirely sincere—just as Aunt Kang hadn’t remembered her name, she hadn’t thought much of Aunt Kang either. But now that they’d met, she decided to give Aunt Kang the bottle originally meant for Teacher Wang.

Teacher Gao chuckled. “No need for the trouble! She and Xiao Qiu are married. You can just give both bottles to her.”

“Oh, really? Haha, I didn’t know.” Lin Fang feigned surprise, though inwardly she thought, *The one time I went to Aunt Kang’s, she was alone. Everything I know about her family is from Dad. How was I supposed to know she’s married to Teacher Qiu?*

Aunt Kang laughed loudly. “Hahaha, no worries—now you know! I came to invite Teacher Gao to eat at my place. Why don’t you join us? Last time you visited with your dad, we didn’t get to talk much. We can chat over the meal.”

Lin Fang declined politely. “Thank you, Aunt Kang, but I’ve already eaten at school. After delivering the chili oil to you and Teacher Gao, I need to head back or I’ll be late.”

Even without these excuses, Lin Fang had no intention of going to Aunt Kang’s home. Though this was only their second interaction, her intuition told her Aunt Kang was somewhat insincere.

“I’m not going either—my meal’s already ready.” Teacher Gao dipped his chopsticks into the chili oil again, his expression like a child enjoying candy. Lin Fang sighed inwardly. She seemed to have a knack for attracting elderly figures, both in this life and her past one—they always ended up close to her.

“Alright then, I’ll head back, Teacher Gao. My husband’s cooking, and the kitchen’s far. I should go help.”

As Aunt Kang moved toward the door, Lin Fang quickly grabbed the unopened bottle from the table and followed. “Aunt Kang, take this chili oil. My mom made it—it’s quite good. Give it a try.” Then she turned to Rouqiu, who stood expressionless. “Get the other bottle out for Aunt Kang too.”

“No need, no need! Everyone makes chili oil. I still have plenty from last week.” With that, she hurried out, already far away, while Rouqiu remained stone-faced and unmoving.