Out of reverence for these masters, Feng Qingxue and Lu Jiang meticulously prepared a large table of dishes, opening two bottles of Maotai and two bottles of Fen liquor, pouring forth all they could display to their guests.
As far as Feng Qingxue knew, among these masters, aside from Wenyue and Madam Xu—two women who didn't drink alcohol—the others all enjoyed it.
This year, Wen Ruyu was seventy-two years old, and everyone recommended that he take the seat of honor, parallel to the head of the household, Father Lu. He glanced at the dishes on the table, giving Father Lu a thumbs-up, "Your son and daughter-in-law are really generous. I like it."
How could they not be generous? Anyone would feel respected.
A large bowl of Dongpo pork, neither too much nor too little, exactly sixteen pieces, arranged neatly in squares, red and glossy with a tempting aroma.
