"I'm back!" Jiang Hai announced as he walked in from outside, carrying two baskets brimming with fresh seafood. His arrival drew the attention of everyone busy in the villa. Cleaning pigs was an unfamiliar task for most, but since Afra and the others had become part of Jiang Hai's household, they had taken it upon themselves to handle the pork preparation. Ai Xiaoxi, being the only one who had previously witnessed pig slaughter, naturally assumed the lead.
By the time Jiang Hai returned, the pork had already been nearly processed, and the meat was being trimmed and prepared. Although Jiang Hai rarely ate fat, some was needed for the dumpling filling to hold together properly. Afra and the others had mixed in the fat to ensure the stuffing remained juicy and flavorful.
Upon seeing Jiang Hai, everyone merely acknowledged him before taking the baskets from his hands and heading to the kitchen to clean the seafood. Jiang Hai's abalone, all wild-caught, required careful cleaning; wild abalone, while tender and delicious, was often filled with debris, hair, and remnants of shells. They scrubbed each piece thoroughly, discarded the green viscera, and diced the meat for the filling.
Sea cucumbers required similar attention. Though Jiang Hai had already removed their internal organs when catching them, their outer skin needed washing. Meanwhile, the shrimp were meticulously deveined, a necessary step to remove the digestive tract and ensure a clean taste.
Once all the ingredients were ready, the team began making the filling. Diced abalone and sea cucumber, chopped cabbage, and pork ground through a meat grinder were combined in a large bowl. The mixture was marinated with salt, cooking oil, and cooking wine, then lightly mixed with broth from the pig's bones. Once slightly thinned, the filling was placed in the refrigerator to chill. The shrimp were halved, with one piece placed inside each dumpling.
Qi Ya then prepared the dough. The morning's fermented dough had risen into a large, pliable lump. With Qi Ya leading and Jiang Hai assisting, they cut and kneaded the dough, placing it back into the bowl for rolling. Qi Ya demonstrated the proper technique: flattening the dough, placing the filling in the center, topping it with half a shrimp, and carefully pinching it closed to prevent spilling. Rolling the dough evenly—puffed in the center and thinner at the edges—required skill and patience.
Qi Ya soon noticed that Ai Xiaoxi, Feng Yunchen, Afra, and Hilda displayed a natural talent for rolling. She handed out rolling pins, and the five women worked diligently while Jiang Hai and the others wrapped the dumplings. The results were imperfect but charming, and the kitchen buzzed with lively conversation and laughter.
Years of consuming beef and seafood had honed the women's physical stamina. Even without Jiang Hai's spiritual energy, the repetitive work of rolling dough and wrapping dumplings was manageable. Ribbon after ribbon of dough was shaped, each dumpling forming a neat, compact bundle.
Watching them, Jiang Hai was reminded of his childhood. Twenty years ago, every Lunar New Year, his extended family would gather at his grandfather's house. Women would cluster together, making dumplings while watching the Spring Festival Gala, while the men waited for the fireworks segment. On the third day, visits to grandparents followed the same routine. Over time, as the older generation passed, the festive atmosphere faded. Lunar New Year became a source of stress, with bright lights in every home but Jiang Hai facing it alone. Last year had been an exception, thanks to some familial recognition at his mother-in-law's house.
This year, he was determined to celebrate at home, making it genuinely festive.
"Hey, what are you thinking about? You're lost in thought," Qi Jie's flour-covered hand touched Jiang Hai's face, accompanied by a playful smile. Jiang Hai gently touched her nose, chuckling softly. "Home… this is my home, isn't it?" he murmured. Even if the family wasn't fully reunited, he felt certain that day would come.
Refocusing on the dumplings, Jiang Hai helped maintain the rhythm of preparation. Each girl brought her own energy and personality to the task, making the process lively and harmonious. The connection he felt with them was profound. This wasn't a dream; it was real. This was Winthrop—his Tenglong Manor.
By late afternoon, the dumplings were nearly ready. Qi Ya, already hungry, directed everyone to steam and boil them. At five o'clock, with dipping sauces prepared, the group eagerly gathered around the table. Jiang Hai grabbed the first dumpling and took a bite without dipping it, nearly burning his mouth. The soup inside had solidified during wrapping, clumping with the filling. Despite the heat, he savored it—the flavors of pork, abalone, sea cucumber, shrimp, and cabbage blending perfectly.
Gasps of delight echoed around the table, but no one spat out their dumplings. The combination of taste and atmosphere created a rare harmony within the manor, dissolving previous tensions.
"Next time, when Valentina and the others come back, let's make dumplings together!" Azarina whispered with a smile. Jiang Hai nodded, understanding her sentiment. The moment was about enjoying family and friendship.
Meanwhile, across the United States, attention had shifted elsewhere. In Massachusetts' northeastern corner, focus was on the southwest. California, second only to New York in prominence, drew attention, particularly Santa Clara County—better known as Silicon Valley.
In one of its leafy neighborhoods, a middle-aged man staggered along, wine bottle in hand, reeking of alcohol. Entrepreneurship was rife in Silicon Valley, but so was failure, and his disheartened appearance reflected this reality. He stumbled to a small villa, fumbled with his keys, and entered his bedroom. The light flicked on—and his pupils dilated. The room, expected to be empty, was filled with people. Cold sweat trickled down his face.
"Who are you? What are you doing in my house?" he demanded, hand reaching for the doorknob, shock instantly sobering him.
"We're your friends! Mayan Smith," said a middle-aged man in mountaineering gear, stepping forward with a smile…
(To be continued.)