Lamb Stew

Until the very last exam was over, Lu Xiaochen never once tried to speak to Lin Mo, though Fang Jun approached him first.

"I heard that if the other members of the boxing club don’t show any results next semester, the club will be disbanded."

Lin Mo shrugged, completely indifferent.

Their country’s approach to extracurricular activities was different from Japan’s relaxed club culture.

In Japan, school ended at 3 p.m., with only six classes a day. After that, students had plenty of time for club activities, often spanning several hours.

But here, unless it was a specialized sports team—like Ma Li and Su Mingzhao’s basketball team or Jiang Yunlu’s badminton team—most hobby groups could only meet on Fridays.

The boxing club’s privileges had been hard-won by its president, but the members had squandered them.

Lin Mo had scanned them with his spiritual sense—they just pretended to train, slacking off the whole time. No wonder they had no results.

A club like that wasn’t worth his help.

Though exams were over, classes weren’t dismissed yet. They had to wait for their homeroom teacher, Chen Xiaoya, to go over post-exam arrangements.

The classroom buzzed with a relaxed atmosphere. No one stayed in their seats—everyone huddled in small groups, chatting about holiday plans.

It was noisy, but not unpleasant.

Then Chen Xiaoya walked in, tapping the lectern lightly. The students automatically returned to their seats.

"I’ll keep it brief. No evening self-study today, but starting tomorrow, you’ll have to come back for supplementary classes."

A collective groan erupted from the class.

Soon, similar groans echoed from other classrooms.

Misery loved company, it seemed.

Chen Xiaoya smirked, satisfied by the chorus of complaints from Class 8 and beyond.

"This is to keep you from slacking off. You’re already in your first year of high school. We need to finish the curriculum by the second semester of your second year and review everything."

It made sense.

And no one could argue.

They had all assumed the end of exams meant the start of vacation.

But no.

Someone raised a hand. "Teacher, how long will the supplementary classes last?"

"Just a week. First and second years still get holidays—unlike third years, who have to stay until February 1st."

The class exchanged glances, already dreading their future senior year.

Once Chen Xiaoya finished, she left without another word.

Lin Jiajun watched her go, unfazed.

"Reviewing the exams will take days anyway. The extra classes probably won’t be heavy—just previewing next semester’s material. My cousin said this period is pretty relaxed."

At least mentally.

Lin Mo slung his backpack over his shoulder.

"Enough thinking. School’s out."

Auntie Zheng had apparently made lamb stew today. In this cold weather, wasn’t lamb the perfect tonic?

Not that Lin Mo felt the cold, but he loved to eat.

Xie Yuling brought Chu Miaomiao along, and the three walked home together.

Jiang Yunlu, carrying her badminton bag, watched their retreating figures with an inexplicable ache.

Wang Qin, trailing behind, sighed but kept her thoughts to herself.

Jiang Yunlu already knew the truth—no need to spell it out.

Taking a deep breath, Jiang Yunlu turned toward the badminton court.

"In the end, I’ll be the one standing by his side."

"Yeah, sure, whatever."

Loving someone is like a song only the two of you can sing.

---System: If there’s no absolute N-choice-1, then take them all---

Guangdong had many ways to prepare lamb, but most used the gamy flavor of goat meat.

Come winter, eating lamb for nourishment was common sense nationwide.

The moment they stepped inside, the rich aroma of braised meat filled the air.

Cantonese lamb stew was first stir-fried, then braised, and finally served hot in a pot, like hotpot.

"Perfect timing! Wash your hands—dinner’s almost ready."

"Got it!" The three chorused, lining up to wash their hands.

Xie Yuling went to help in the kitchen, while Chu Miaomiao set the table.

Lin Mo carried the pot of lamb to the dining table, placing it on the induction cooker.

With a press of a button, the stew began to simmer.

Pieces of reddish-brown goat meat, skin still on, bobbed in the thick, savory sauce.

Goat skin, unlike pork skin, wasn’t overly fatty—when cooked right, it turned pleasantly crisp, enhanced by the rich sauce.

Of course, goat meat was also notoriously gamy, unlike the naturally mild-flavored Tan sheep. Making it delicious required extra effort.

Xie Yuling brought out a bowl of fermented tofu sauce, topped with lemon zest for a refreshing touch.

Clearly, Auntie Zheng knew her way around a kitchen.

"Try it! How’s my lamb stew? The seasonal goat just hit the market, so I bought several pounds of ribs and belly."

Lin Mo picked up his chopsticks, snagging a piece of water chestnut first.

A crisp crunch, and the sweet freshness burst in his mouth.

Water chestnuts and sugarcane were staples in Cantonese lamb stew—adding sweetness to highlight the meat’s flavor while balancing its warmth.

Over time, they became indispensable.

"Hey, I asked you to try the lamb, not the water chestnuts!"

Lin Mo shook his head. "A good lamb stew makes even the water chestnuts delicious."

Chu Miaomiao, unfamiliar with the dish, tentatively picked up a piece of meat, dipped it in the sauce, and chewed carefully.

Goat meat was naturally tough, but this had been braised long enough to melt in the mouth.

"This is amazing!" She gave a thumbs-up.

At Xie Yuling’s place, she was much livelier than at school.

Xie Yuling nodded. "Mom’s lamb stew is the best. We just never finished it before."

Everyone glanced at Lin Mo.

Now, with him around, nothing went to waste.

Zheng Yuan chuckled. "By the way, since exams are over, you should go shopping for New Year’s clothes tomorrow."

At that, Xie Yuling scowled.