Song Zijie knew the procedure for a rural banquet, so he bought a wide variety of things, but they were all very practical.

He had a few young men help him carry the ingredients to the kitchen, while the candies and liquor that didn’t need cooking were placed directly on the tables.

In the countryside, major events like weddings and building a new house always called for a celebratory feast. Relatives and friends would be invited to join in the festivities and show their support.

A rural banquet, which city folk might call a "country feast," was simply known as "hosting a banquet" to the villagers.

When villagers hosted a banquet, they were never stingy. They would start by raising a fat pig, ensuring the feast was a lively affair.

The goal was for the fellow villagers to eat until their faces shone with grease, a memory that would last for half a year. That’s why everyone always looked forward to the next family’s banquet.

This time, the Su family’s invitation to a feast was sudden, but the pig Su Shuochi had bought was fatter than any pig anyone had prepared in advance.

This made the villagers skip lunch, saving their empty stomachs for a bigger dinner.

This was an unwritten custom in Shuanghe Village. If a family planned to host a banquet, they would inform the villagers ahead of time.

Some families would even have their children eat less the day before, making them wait with an empty stomach for the feast.

Su Shuochi had only come out for a walk to avoid listening to his second sister’s pointless chatter, with Han Jinghong following close behind him.

He saw the villagers spontaneously carrying tables and chairs from their own homes, setting them up in the open space in front of the Su family’s house.

He did a rough count—there were at least sixty tables. It couldn’t help but remind him of the banquets he attended as a child.

Village banquets varied in scale, with some as small as twenty tables and others as large as forty. More well-off families would set up even more.

He had only casually mentioned treating the villagers to a meal today. Who knew everyone would turn it into such a grand affair—a whopping sixty tables.

Villagers had always taken hosting banquets very seriously. It wasn’t just a matter of face for the family in the village.

It was also a rare social occasion for villagers to gather. The more people who came, the more face the host family had.

A village banquet was a lively, vivid tapestry of rustic life, and it had left a deep impression on Su Shuochi.

He remembered that in the village, whether for a happy occasion or a funeral, the traditional custom of hosting a banquet was still preserved.

And most villagers chose to hold the banquet at their own homes, for the simple reasons that it was livelier, more cheerful, and everyone could have a great time.

The flavors and fun of a village banquet were indeed memorable. But regardless of its scale, a banquet had to be done well and with dignity.

If the delicious dishes on the table were more than the guests could eat, they would praise the host’s generosity.

But if the food ran out, people would start nitpicking and gossiping before the banquet was even over.

Some would even mock the host behind their back: "Hosting a banquet like that is no different from selling cooked meat."

Therefore, even families that weren’t well-off had to put on a show of wealth, care about pomp, and vie for face during a banquet.

Hosting a banquet in the countryside was full of unspoken rules: what cigarettes to offer, what liquor to serve, whom to invite, and how many tables to set up.

All these details revealed the villagers’ "worldly philosophy" of conduct, reflecting their simplicity, wisdom, and the full spectrum of human relationships.

For an elder’s major birthday, villagers would call the banquet a "longevity feast," and the family would begin preparations half a month in advance.

Making plans, hiring a village chef, creating a menu, booking an opera troupe—the family would be incredibly busy.

In short, the plates had to be full, the food good, the liquor fragrant, and the cigarettes high-class.

And Song Zijie had bought cases of Red Sorghum liquor and cartons of Jianshe brand cigarettes. The old men in the village loved it; that kid really knew how to handle things.

There were also high-end candies, which the children and women loved. The Su family’s impromptu banquet was no worse than one that had been planned for a month.

In reality, organizing a village banquet was harder than it looked and required advance preparation.

Families that weren’t well-off had to raise chickens, pigs, and goats in advance, as these were essential main courses for the feast.

When the time came, they could be slaughtered and served. As the date approached, the host had to confirm the number of guests by personally visiting and inviting them.

Once the number of guests was set, the number of tables was determined, and the host had to book a chef.

A good village chef directly influenced the quality of the banquet and the satisfaction of the guests.

But Su Shuochi and Song Zijie had money. So what took others half a year to prepare, they could accomplish in half an afternoon.

Su’s mother was, after all, an old hand at hosting banquets. She led the village women, and after a busy afternoon, they had actually managed to prepare ten different dishes.

As the head chef, she was skilled in every aspect of cooking—mastering deep-frying, pan-frying, steaming, and stir-frying.

Hot dishes, cold dishes, soups, steamed bowl-dishes—she excelled at them all. As long as she had enough ingredients, she could do anything.

The banquet was exceptionally lively. The bowls of steamed pork, in particular, were piled high, and the moment the lids were lifted, a rich aroma wafted through the air.

Mr. Su, Su Shuochi, the village chief, and a few of the village’s most respected elders sat together in the main hall. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

Song Zijie, Han Jinghong and his two subordinates, and the village teachers also sat in the main hall.

The other villagers all sat outside. The Hu family occupied two tables, but they too were seated outside with everyone else.

The Hu Family’s wife saw her eldest daughter-in-law, Su Ermei, sitting in the main hall with her three children and eldest son, but they hadn’t called for her husband to join them.

She was furious, but she was also terrified of Su Shuochi, so she didn’t dare cause a scene.

She was especially scared after hearing that Su Shuochi had even driven away her own once-glorious daughter.

Only three tables could fit in the Su family’s main hall. At any banquet, the people seated in the main hall were always the most distinguished guests.

Hu Yungeng had been injured by the Wang Family’s father and son. He couldn’t work, but he could certainly eat.

An elder from the village picked up a piece of the fragrant steamed pork with his chopsticks and put it in his mouth. He closed his eyes, smacking his lips in satisfaction.

He was so excited the piece of pork nearly flew out of his mouth. "So fragrant! It’s been years since I’ve had a meal at the Su’s house. It’s gotten even more delicious!"

"That’s right. To be able to eat one more feast made by her, I could die with no regrets."

"Grand-uncle, listen to you," the village chief said with a chuckle. "Aunt Su has taught a few apprentices, and their banquets are quite good too."

"Hahaha... It’s not that her apprentices are bad cooks. It’s that they aren’t as generous as she is. Chi is really something else."

"That’s right! Chi, what you’ve put together in half a day is more lavish than a banquet others spend half a year preparing."

It wasn’t just Su Shuochi and the village chief’s table that was full of praise; the villagers outside were in an uproar.

The villagers all picked up their chopsticks, grabbing pieces of pork, chicken... and popping them in their mouths. Their eyes lit up at the first taste.

Han Jinghong also picked up his chopsticks. It was truly delicious; he was at a loss for words to praise it.

The chicken, for instance. He’d had it before. He remembered that chicken at banquets was usually tough and impossible to chew.

But the chicken his idol’s mother made was different. It was tender and smooth, and the flavor was incredibly rich.

"Han Jinghong, what do you guys think of Aunt Su’s cooking?" Song Zijie asked, smacking his lips.

He had tried a bit of every dish. It was all exquisite. ’So Aunt Su was just holding back when she cooked for a small group,’ he realized.