Chapter 153: Coastal Property Investment

The bone broth soup base was enriched with fresh mushrooms, while two dates and a small pinch of wolfberries bobbed and simmered in the milky-white liquid.

Baby cuttlefish, squid rolls, sea crabs, large prawns, and clams were all thoroughly cleaned and arranged on a large platter placed on the table. Three or four varieties of marine fish had been purchased, including small yellow croaker, tiger fish, pomfret, and sea perch. In addition, there were wakame seaweed, napa cabbage, and more.

Chen Xin had also bought half a jin of fish maw from a large fish, which she cleaned, placed in a small basin, and seasoned with a little salt and cooking wine to remove any fishy odor. She separately scraped the meat from the sea perch, minced it into a fine paste, and shaped it into fish balls. She also prepared shrimp paste and shrimp-and-pork wontons.

Knowing that the teenagers enjoyed a light fruit-flavored wine, Chen Xin prepared a large basin of spicy stir-fried crabs and a large platter of mantis shrimp.

The spicy crabs were stir-fried in a wok with Sichuan pixian broad bean paste and dried chili peppers until fragrant. Once the juices released, she added a large bowl of ginger slices, garlic cloves, and scallion sections, pouring in some local rice wine for simmering. Just before taking them off the heat, she seasoned the dish with appropriate amounts of light soy sauce, oyster sauce, and sugar, finished it with a small spoonful of sesame oil, and garnished it with a sprinkle of toasted white sesame seeds and fresh, vibrant green cilantro.

Fearing that the boys might not handle too much heat, Chen Xin considerably reduced the amount of chili peppers when stir-frying the crabs. Incorporating oyster sauce and sugar was also an effective way to tone down the spiciness. These youngsters had never tasted dishes with this flavor profile before; after taking a single bite, their eyes watered from the heat yet they refused to stop, alternating between bites of crab and sips of fruit juice, occasionally gasping from the fiery spice.

She had originally intended to prepare the mantis shrimp in the same spicy style, but second-thought it—the spicy crabs were already punishing their palates enough, so she decided to give the mantis shrimp a different flavor instead.

She planned to make Typhoon Shelter-style shrimp, a cooking method exceptionally well-suited for mantis shrimp. In the afternoon, the housekeeper had already prepped them, trimming away the feelers and claws, removing the intestinal tracts, and marinating the shrimp with salt, white pepper powder, and cooking wine for half an hour.

With oil heating in the wok, she fried the marinated mantis shrimp until their shells turned a pale golden hue, then drained them. Using a small amount of the leftover shrimp-frying oil, she flash-fried minced ginger, scallions, garlic, and salt, then tossed in breadcrumbs and stir-fried until crispy. Finally, she returned the fried shrimp to the wok, added a pinch of sugar, tossed everything evenly, and dished it out.

This style of shrimp carried a savory, aromatic flavor that fell right between the light seafood hotpot and the fiery spicy crabs. Combined with the subtle sweet-and-salty crunch of the breadcrumbs, it offered a delightfully unique culinary experience.

The spicy crabs were too heavily seasoned for Grandpa Zhou to eat, so Chen Xin put on disposable gloves and peeled mantis shrimp for him. He ate one, little Zhang Zhang ate another; the old man and the child shared remarkably similar expressions and gestures as they earnestly enjoyed Chen Xin's attentive service.

The teenagers were gathered around another table, tucking into their meal with gusto. Only Zhou Hao, Chen Xin, the housekeeper, Grandpa Zhou, and little Zhang Zhang sat at this table, using a smaller hotpot.

After peeling the shrimp, Chen Xin dropped the small wontons into the boiling broth. The wontons had been freshly wrapped, each about the size of a fingertip, containing a perfectly proportioned mixture of lean and fatty fresh pork along with half a shrimp. They only needed to cook in the broth for three to four minutes. The bowls for the wontons were set aside separately, each containing salt, pepper, a tiny bit of crumbled toasted purple seaweed, roasted dried shrimp skins, and a small spoonful of the housekeeper’s homemade shrimp oil.

The hotpot broth was intensely flavorful; ladling a spoonful into the bowl alongside tender baby cabbage leaves and the delicate wontons, then dusting it with a hint of chopped scallions, created an aroma so enticing it made one's mouth water uncontrollably.

Grandpa Zhou did not have much of an appetite and usually ate very little, but these wontons suited his palate perfectly. After finishing a bowl of eight, he still wanted more, though Chen Xin held back and instead scalded a few shrimp paste pieces and a small roll of rice noodles for him.

Elderly people ate relatively little meat, mostly just sampling a bite here and there, and by this point, he was comfortably full.

Only after attending to the old and the young did Chen Xin finally begin to eat.

"The seaside is truly wonderful; the flavor of this seafood is so incredibly fresh. You can't get anything this vibrant inland," Chen Xin tasted a shrimp and a clam, sighing leisurely toward the hotpot. "I have no idea how much I'll miss these seafood dishes once I go back."

"Then stay here," the housekeeper remarked casually. "The food you cook is delicious, and the old master loves it. Why don't you just stay?"

"I can't, I'm still studying," Chen Xin paused for a few seconds before breaking into a smile. "My home is inland, so I can't just come and go as I please. However, I was actually wondering yesterday whether I should buy a house here, so I can bring Zhang Zhang down to spend the winters."

In another decade or so, air pollution inland would reach a universally infuriating level, by which time coastal real estate prices would have become despairingly high. Therefore, if possible, Chen Xin genuinely wanted to purchase a property here in advance. Even if she didn't live in it herself, selling it later would serve as a solid fixed-asset investment.

There was no need to share these plans with the Zhou family; she wasn't even sure if things between her and Zhou Hao would work out, and saying too much might make them suspect she was trying to latch onto the Zhou family for status.

The teenagers, rarely gathered together like this, spent their days playing outside and barely came home. On the third day, Chen Xin and Zhou Hao took Zhang Zhang out for an excursion, visiting all the more prominent nearby islets. They were largely undeveloped at this point, retaining a pristine, ecological environment. While they weren't necessarily packed with entertainment, the food and lodging were vastly superior to the heavily commercialized versions of later years.

In another small harbor town not too far from this coastal city, Chen Xin had her eye on an old house listed for sale.

This small town was not yet famous, but fifteen years later, it would be developed into one of the country’s most renowned wellness and health-retreat cities. The real estate prices along the inner bay area would soar to astronomical heights, with the entire stretch converted into private beaches, while the largest public bathing beach would be situated near the mouth of the bay. Though that area was flatter and broader, the quality of the sand simply could not compare.

The old residence listed for sale this time was situated in the prime location along that very bay. The owner's family was emigrating abroad and would never return, so the asking price for this old house was quite modest—at least, the entire property cost less than the price of a single bathroom in a wellness villa in this area during later years.

Chen Xin had not mentioned this to Zhou Hao at the time, though she had shown significant interest. Zhou Hao initially thought about advising Chen Xin against buying it, but he realized he lacked any standing to do so. Moreover, although the Zhou family's ancestral home was also by the sea, its environment couldn't compare to this location. Besides, the ancestral home was under the old master's name; even if the estate were to be divided later, it was impossible for him to inherit the whole thing. Furthermore, he understood deep down that the old master intended to leave that house to his aunt, Zhou Yu's mother. Most family members were well aware of this arrangement, and no one objected.

After pondering it for an entire afternoon and evening, and calling Cheng Jie back home to consult with her, Chen Xin finally decided to spend the money and make the purchase.

The person handling the property sale here on behalf of the owners was their grandson, a tall, sturdy Eurasian young man. Born and raised in the country, he was now preparing to return to his father's homeland to live due to his parents' work commitments. Not wanting to leave his maternal grandmother behind alone, he simply decided to sell the property here and buy a new one over there.

The young man was very conversational. He studied photography, which didn't overlap with Chen Xin's major, but his personal hobby was classical literature because his grandmother was a literature teacher. On this topic, Chen Xin—having just concluded a classical literature translation project—found she had an abundance of shared language with him.