In his previous life, Karen often stayed up late and smoked, but he made sure to run and work out, so his physical condition was decent.

“It seems I need to prioritize exercising.”

Karen washed up, went down to the second floor, and saw milk and bread on the dining table.

He poured a glass of milk, dipped some bread into it, and ate two pieces before finishing the milk mixed with crumbs in one go. After straightening his collar and cuffs, he went down to the first floor.

Aunt Mary was sitting in a corner, drinking water, looking somewhat tired. Karen knew why she was tired; the work she had planned for last night turned into a rush this morning, so she must have been exhausted.

Aunt Winnie was counting the supplies while holding a notebook.

Everything in the first floor, except for the “flowers,” was well-used items.

Although these were recycled items, if anything got lost, it would still be a considerable expense to replace them.

Grandpa stood by the small platform, watching Ron and Paul finish arranging the coffin.

Karen had been down for a while, but Grandpa hadn’t particularly turned his gaze toward him.

Everyone was working, and only Karen had slept in; this was what could be called “Karen’s privilege.”

“Please, you’ve worked hard. I’m sorry for troubling you to come so early.”

“It’s nothing, nothing. It’s what I should do, haha.”

Uncle Mason welcomed a middle-aged bald man dressed cheaply but looking quite dignified.

Karen searched his memory and knew the man’s name was “Malmo,” the deputy director of a certain office in the district government.

In “memory,” Aunt Mary looked down on this person, thinking he was too greedy and had a bad way of eating. He also loved to leverage his status, and his office had only one director; the rest were “deputy directors.”

Everyone else in the office had gotten their positions through connections, and he was the one running errands, so he was essentially just a clerk.

Mr. Malmo noticed Karen and reached out to pat Karen's head;

Karen took a step back to avoid him.

“Haha, last time I heard you were ill; it seems you’ve recovered now?”

“Yes, thank you for your concern,” Karen replied.

“Hmm, good.”

Malmo didn’t linger any longer, walked up the steps, took out an old-fashioned “Worfzi” camera, and snapped a photo of Jeff inside the coffin, then stepped back down.

Grandpa, dressed as a priest, stood in front of the coffin, bowed his head, and prayed.

“Click!”

Malmo took another picture.

Finally,

Malmo stepped back to the entrance of the living room, found a spot with better lighting, and aimed the camera lens toward the entire living room, lifting it up.

Karen saw Aunt Mary, who had been sitting, also stand up. Everyone, including cousins, bowed their heads solemnly in mourning.

“Get ready, take your positions…”

Karen stood up straight and lowered his head.

“Click!”

“Alright.”

Malmo put down the camera.

Uncle Mason then handed a black notebook to Malmo. Malmo nodded and took it.

Inside was a tip.

The funding from the city government and charities may seem substantial at first glance, but when it came to implementation, it had to be split among many layers.

Of course, today’s “tip” would be a bit more than usual since Mr. Malmo had gotten up early.

After taking the three photos needed for archiving and report submission, Mr. Malmo didn’t dawdle, leaving with his camera and notebook, while Uncle Mason escorted him to the door.

Even if he wanted to be courteous and send him back to the office, it wouldn’t be feasible unless Mr. Malmo was willing to be picked up by the hearse, as the Inmores family didn’t own a private car.

Then,

Paul and Ron worked together to transfer Jeff’s body from the coffin to the stretcher and pushed it back to the basement.

Next, they moved Mr. Mosang out and placed him into the coffin.

Aunt Mary stepped forward and began to adjust his posture, trying to make Mr. Mosang appear as “comfortable” and “calm” as possible.

The rest of the decorations and setups remained unchanged.

This was a “rush job”;

Although Mr. Mosang’s children were stingy in other matters, because some relatives lived in other cities, they paid for Mr. Mosang’s mourning ceremony to last “the whole day” rather than “half a day.”

Naturally, if conditions allowed, they would have even been willing to “pay by the hour.”

So, today “Jeff” was actually just borrowing Mr. Mosang’s car.

After the procedures for Jeff were completed, he had to give way and return to the basement to continue lying there.

Mr. Mosang had now “taken his place,”

While Paul and Ron stood at the entrance of the living room and the gate in the yard, erecting signs indicating that today was Mr. Mosang’s mourning ceremony.

Since there wasn’t much for him to do on the first floor, Karen walked over to the flowerbed in the yard and picked several leaves of patchouli.

Then he went up to the second floor and entered the kitchen.

Today’s lunch was to be prepared by him;

Often, mourning venues would provide simple meals for friends and family who came to pay their respects, but this would only happen if the family requested this service and paid for it.

So, the Inmores family would also join in for lunch, making it a work meal.

However, Mr. Mosang’s children didn’t order even simple meals today; they didn’t even order drinks… not even the cheapest lemon sweet water. Therefore, the Inmores family had to prepare lunch for themselves.

Upon entering the kitchen, Karen felt little discomfort. In his previous life, he often cooked for himself and enjoyed the process. Though his cooking skills weren’t chef-level, he was considered excellent at the housewife and husband level.

He cleaned the patchouli leaves, put a few into a cup, and poured hot water over them.

Next, he began to select ingredients. The family had a rich supply of food, but he didn’t plan on making anything too extravagant.

The kitchen had a refrigerator that looked quite new, likely purchased not long ago, but to Karen, it seemed “old.”

As he prepared the ingredients, he heard some noises coming from the first floor; guests were beginning to arrive for Mr. Mosang's mourning ceremony.

Mina and Chris came up to the second floor, curiously standing outside the kitchen, watching Karen, who was making dough.

Originally, when the family was in business, the two girls had to serve tea on the first floor. Today, they didn’t need to do that.

“Brother, when did you learn to cook?” Mina asked.

“Yeah, yeah, what’s that stick for?” Chris asked, peeking her head in.

“Just wait to eat.”

Karen smiled, holding a rolling pin he had taken from the small desk in his bedroom. There was a better long round stick in the basement, but he didn’t dare to use it, nor did he want to wash it.

Pouring oil and heating the pan, Karen placed the wrapped spring rolls into the oil and fried them, then removed them to drain the oil.

The spring rolls were filled with chives and some minced meat.

Next, Karen began to fry eggplant pancakes, adding a leaf of patchouli in the middle of each pancake to make it crisper and less greasy.

Because there were many people in the family, Ron and Paul would also have lunch here, so Karen fried two large plates of spring rolls and pancakes.

Afterward,

Karen began to stir the spices. He felt he would need to take some time to go to the market; although he had a good stock of ingredients at home, he was a bit lacking in certain spices.

He poured the previously marinated chicken chunks into the pot, covered it, and started to simmer it.

Yes, Karen was preparing to make "Yellow Braised Chicken" again.

He picked up his teacup, taking a sip of the warm patchouli tea.

Ah, Karen really enjoyed this feeling.

Back in his last life, there was a very popular simple dish from his hometown called "tea-soaked rice," made with patchouli tea and paired with some pickled vegetables. It was a simple meal, but once you got used to it, it became quite addictive, even if it wasn't particularly friendly to the stomach.

Oh right, he still needed to prepare some pickles. Although there were "jars" in the basement, Karen decided to go buy some new ones at the market.

Once the chicken was nearly cooked, he added diced potatoes, sliced mushrooms, and green peppers, turning up the heat for the final reduction.

In another pot, Karen made a simple tomato egg soup with eggs and tomatoes.

When the soup was ready, the yellow braised chicken was also finished cooking.

"Mina, Chris, come and serve the dishes."

"Okay, brother."

"Wow, it smells so good!"

Mina and Chris came in to carry the plates.

After setting everything on the dining table, Chris went downstairs to inform the family that lunch was ready, and then she hurried back upstairs, reaching for a spring roll and popping it into her mouth.

It wasn't that they didn't follow dining etiquette; it's just that when there was a business to attend to at home, meals were eaten whenever one had a free moment, without needing to wait for everyone to gather. Eating a bit early also allowed them to swap out and greet guests sooner.

"This is delicious, brother." Chris nodded as she chewed.

"Chris, use a fork." Mina reminded her.

"It's fine, just use your hands." Karen said, also taking a spring roll with his hand and dipping it into the bowl of fruit vinegar;

The taste of the fruit vinegar was quite similar to white vinegar, and Karen wasn't too satisfied with it; he still preferred Zhenjiang black vinegar. Mina served him a bowl of soup. According to his usual habit, Karen liked to add vinegar to his tomato egg soup, but he was still somewhat resistant to the taste of fruit vinegar.

A sip of soup slid down his throat,

Karen took a deep breath,

and for a moment felt so moved he almost wanted to cry.

It wasn't just hunger; after going through such a significant upheaval, the food from his "hometown" provided a deep sense of solace for the soul.

No matter how much "chicken soup" there was, nothing was more comforting than a bowl of soup to soothe the spirit.

Mina and Chris were enjoying their meal, using spring rolls and pancakes to soak up the sauce from the yellow braised chicken, but Karen refused Mina’s attempt to serve him some chicken;

He hadn't made rice, and yellow braised chicken without rice lacked soul.

"Brother, can you teach me how to cook in the future?" Mina asked.

"Me too! Me too!" Chris eagerly added.

"Sure, okay."

At that moment, Aunt Mary also walked in, and seeing the food on the table, she was quite surprised. "Karen, did you make this?"

"Yes, Aunt, please try it."

"Okay."

Aunt Mary picked up a spring roll with her fork and took a bite:

"Mm, very tasty! When did you learn to cook?"

"I read it in a book."

"Really? That's impressive! We can add another service to the family, and our chef can prepare some simple meals for the guests."

"Okay." Karen replied politely; today was just a small trial for him. He could cook many dishes. In his last life, after achieving some financial freedom, he traveled all over the country not for taking photos or checking in but specifically seeking out local delicacies;

he especially loved and was skilled at Sichuan cuisine.

Aunt Mary sat down and continued eating, even teasingly saying,

"Not many people came to pay their respects, and even fewer brought condolences; there was even someone who only sent a bouquet of flowers. Tsk, tsk, it looks like they just plucked it from Mrs. Mark's garden next door."

The level of productivity is the fundamental reason for customs and traditions to emerge; after all, in matters of weddings and funerals, it is essential to have the support of family and friends. Thus, the appearance of condolence money is also reasonable.

However, according to "Karen's" memories, weddings here can receive gifts instead of money, but sometimes newlyweds make a list of desired gifts for friends and relatives, which isn't too different.

And compared to gifts, people still prefer to receive cash.

"Can they break even?" Karen asked Aunt Mary.

"So they scheduled the afternoon service; relatives from out of town are coming, and there should be some generous condolence money among them?" Aunt Mary took a sip of soup and continued, "But it doesn't matter; even if the income is less, we can still enjoy a peaceful life."

Everyone else gradually came up for lunch, unanimously expressing their praise for Karen's culinary skills.

In terms of food ranking, the spring rolls were the most popular. Ron and Paul even made a special trip in the afternoon to finish off the remaining cold spring rolls;

when Grandpa came up for lunch, Karen stood by his side.

"Not bad."

"I can make other dishes too." Karen said, "But I need to stock up on more spices."

"Ask your aunt for some money."

"Okay, Grandpa."

"If you cook in the future, your allowance could increase a bit, of course, you don't have to cook every day." Uncle Dis said.

"I enjoy cooking."

Yes, an increase in allowance was also needed.

During this conversation between grandson and grandfather, the cat Puer lay curled up on the nearby small sofa, staring at the table of food, lost in thought.

"Meow..." (Is that a foreign creature that speaks its own language?)

"Meow..." (A creature that can cook?)

"Meow... Meow..." (Am I crazy, or is the creature crazy?)

Around three in the afternoon, the last batch of condolence guests from out of town finally arrived.

They were four elderly men dressed in suits, each wearing a military medal on their chests.

Karen noticed that the four of them handed over envelopes containing condolence money that were noticeably thicker than the others.

The four elderly men surrounded Mr. Mossan to offer their condolences, one of whom, Mr. Dinger, even asked Aunt Mary about the funeral arrangements. Aunt Mary politely replied that everything was arranged;

it was easy to mock their children’s stinginess behind their backs, but there was no need to undermine them openly.

Mr. Mossan's children hurried over to help the elderly men and chatted with them as they left.

Standing at the front door of the living room with a bucket of water, Karen heard Mr. Mossan's children explaining that due to the weather, the burial at the cemetery wouldn't be organized and that Mr. Mossan's last wish was for everything to be simple and not to disturb everyone.

However, Mr. Dinger seemed to sense something, yet he didn't press the matter. As he walked out of the yard with the other elderly men, Karen saw him sighing towards the living room and wiping his eyes.

The memorial service ended.

Under Aunt Winnie’s organization and supervision, everyone began to tidy up the living room.

Paul's neighbor came over to find Karen, saying that his mother had gone to the clinic for a check-up due to health issues.

The recently promoted Paul asked his neighbor about his mother's condition; after all, he had just received a raise, and if it wasn't a big issue, he would feel awkward leaving work right now;