The Game of Life

Jiang Feng struggled to get up from the ground and took a firm look around. This was…

A ship’s cabin?

Jiang Feng had never been on a boat, and he could hardly stand steady in the violently rocking ship’s cabin. He stumbled along and eventually embraced a pillar. Fortunately, he could hold onto the pillar; otherwise, unless the ship stopped, Jiang Feng would have remained sprawled on the ground.

The cabin was cramped, dim, and extremely crowded, with only a small, angled window that barely let any light in. The small space was packed with around a hundred people of all sorts: men, women, old, and young. The one thing they all had in common was their yellowish, emaciated faces with bones poking through their skin, and most of them sat on the ground with lifeless eyes and numb expressions.

In such circumstances, Jiang Feng simply couldn’t distinguish which one was Jiang Weiguo.

Jiang Feng held onto the pillar, not daring to move as an oppressive smell pervaded the entire cabin, worse than the garbage heap that Li Mingyi had once lived near.

The mix of sweat, sourness, body odor, urine, and feces was fermenting in the enclosed cabin. If it weren’t for Jiang Feng’s prior experience with the close quarters of a garbage heap, he might have fled outside the cabin by now. The people m the cabin also seemed to have gone a long time without bathing or changing clothes. From the terrible conditions and their ragged, filthy attire, Jiang Feng could tell they had no means to bathe, much less clothes to change into.

If it weren’t for the fact that everyone in the cabin was Asian, Jiang Feng might have suspected that this was a slave ship transporting African captives.

After a long while, the door to the cabin opened.

A lean man, moderately clean but also wearing worn-out clothes, walked down the stairs with a look of disgust, stopping midway, clearly not wanting to come into too much contact with the people at the bottom of the cabin.

"The cook for the first-class passengers is ill. Do we have any cooks here?” the lean man shouted,

“Two steamed buns per meal!”

As soon as the last sentence was uttered, the previously silent cabin erupted They didn’t care whether the sick cook had been thrown into the river-they were only concerned about those two steamed buns.

Men, women, the elderly, and even children around seven or eight years old all desperately cried out,

“I am a cook!”

"I can cook!”

"I don’t need two steamed buns, just one will do!”

If it hadn’t been for the fear they still had of the lean man, those craving the plain white steamed buns would have swarmed and tugged at his clothes.

Quiet!” the lean man roared, his voice drowning out the clamor,

“No women, and if you cause trouble, I’ll throw all of you into the river!”

"I need a cook, a cook for the first-class passengers, not some worthless trash who can only boil gruel!” The lean man scanned the crowd and, seeing that the initially eager people were now showing fear, couldn’t help feeling somewhat disappointed.

This was a merchant ship that usually shuttled between Southeast Asia and traded goods. There were many ships like theirs at sea: when they had cargo, they carried goods; when there was no cargo, they transported people. Those willing to be cruel would deceive the destitute into spending all their savings on a boat ticket, divide them into different classes, and then sell the prettier or slightly attractive women by weight to San Francisco, the strong laborers and women to traffickers, and the children, who weren’t worth much-if there were buyers, they’d be sold; if there were none, they’d be abandoned somewhere or directly thrown into the river.

Their masters were considered quite generous; although the tickets were expensive, they at least guaranteed to deliver people to their intended destinations, providing three bowls of watery rice soup daily to those in the ship’s cabins.

As for whether those who had spent all their savings on a boat ticket could survive on three bowls of rice soup a day, that was none of their concern. Compared to their peers, their masters were already saints with hearts of compassion.

"Anyone?” the lean man called out again,

“Satisfy the first-class passengers, and you’ll get three steamed buns for one meal!”

No one dared to respond.

They were afraid. Cooking poorly and angering the first-class passengers meant not only missing out on the steamed buns but also jeopardizing their entire families.

This year, the northern regions had consecutively suffered from chaos, drought, and epidemics. Rich and poor alike were fleeing south to escape the disaster. Just the cost of steerage tickets for the whole family could deplete the savings of a regular household, and there were many who had to sell daughters or even daughters-in-law to raise the fare. The status of the people living in the first-class cabins was something these commoners didn’t even dare to dream of.

"Can I do it? I was an assistant chef at Taifeng Building.” Jiang Weiguo squeezed out from the crowd.

At this time, Jiang Weiguo was about eleven or twelve years old. Since he had been an assistant cook for Jiang Chengde from a young age, he was well-nourished; therefore, compared to those suffering from chronic hunger and malnutrition in the ship’s hold, he appeared quite robust. Although his clothes were tattered and filthy, it was apparent that his family had once been in good circumstances.

Children from poor families could not possibly grow so strong.

Taifeng Building?” The gaunt man clearly knew of Taifeng Building, and he didn’t believe that an assistant cook from Taifeng Building would end up in the bottom of a ship,

“How old are you? Thirteen? Fourteen?”

"Eleven,” Jiang Weiguo replied.

After examining Jiang Weiguo for a moment and seemingly deep in thought, the gaunt man finally agreed, albeit reluctantly,

“Come on up.”

With envious gazes following him, Jiang Weiguo left the hold with the gaunt man.

Jiang Feng hurriedly stumbled after them.

Upon leaving the hold, the air became much fresher, and one could even feel the breeze; it was quite pleasant.

The gaunt man began,

“My surname is Wang. From now on, you’ll call me Housekeeper Wang. The passengers in first class are not to be slighted by the hkes of you or me. If you are impersonating someone, go back now and I won’t hold it against you.”

"My name is Jiang Weiguo.” Jiang Weiguo said, extending his hand.

It was the hand of a cook.

Not rough, devoid of excessive calluses, with visible scars from knife cuts.

Housekeeper Wang believed he was a cook.

Housekeeper Wang led him into a narrow room and tossed him a clean set of old clothes,

“There’s no hot water, wash up with cold water, especially your head. Don’t bring fleas or lice into the kitchen. Change into the clean clothes afterward. I’ll wait for you outside.”

Having said that, he closed the wooden door.

Jiang Feng didn’t share the hobby of sneaking peeks at his grandfather washing and changing clothes when he was young and waited by the door just like Housekeeper Wang.

Before long, Jiang Weiguo came out.

He was in clean clothes, his hands and face were clean, and even the dirt under his nails had been washed away. Housekeeper Wang sized up Jiang Weiguo, nodded in satisfaction, and led him to the kitchen.

The kitchen on the ship was small, but it was well stocked. There were several kinds of vegetables, though they were all wilted; there was fresh fish, but no fresh meat, with several strings of dried meat hanging, which Jiang Feng couldn’t identify just by sight.

"The gentleman in first class is surnamed Huang. Mr. Huang doesn’t like fish, doesn’t eat ginger, and the dishes must be ready before eleven this morning­minimum three dishes and a soup. If you steal or take anything, I’ll throw you overboard directly! If Mr. Huang is pleased, he naturally rewards well, but if you don’t do well, weigh the consequences!” After delivering a mixture of kindness and severity, Housekeeper Wang was ready to leave.

"Oh, the kitchen for second and third class is next door; if you’re hungry, you can go there to scrape together a couple of bowls of rice paste.” Jiang Feng guessed this was some sort of staff benefit.

"May I ask Housekeeper Wang, where is Mr. Huang from?” Jiang Weiguo inquired.

Upon hearing Jiang Weiguo’s question, Housekeeper Wang looked at him with a bit of added interest,

“People from Huguang.”

"Thank you for letting me know, Housekeeper Wang,” Jiang Weiguo said.

"If you need a helper, go find one next door.” Whether it was because he took a liking to Jiang Weiguo or for some other reason, Housekeeper Wang added another comment..