Chapter 60: Spring Festival
Luna Dawson glanced around but didn’t see anyone else. "Where’s Lynn Shelby?" she asked casually.
Kevin Keane raised an eyebrow and drawled, "I don’t know. He’s wherever Little Tiger is."
Luna Dawson didn’t think much of it and asked again, "What about Brother Evan, then?"
"Shane Shaw brought over a cured pig’s trotter, so he and Uncle Verne went to give him a case of luosifen in return."
"Well..."
Just as Luna Dawson was about to ask about Blake Blue, Kevin Keane cut her off. "Why do you keep asking me about other people? What is it you want?"
Luna Dawson paused, then put her hands on her hips. "My mom wants you all to go to the backyard and slaughter the chickens and ducks for the New Year’s Eve dinner."
Kevin Keane met Luna Dawson’s expectant gaze, shook his head slightly, and said with a look of distress, "I could never kill a chicken."
His tone was insincere beyond belief.
Luna Dawson was instantly speechless. ’You kill people without batting an eye,’ she fumed internally, ’and you’re telling me you’re scared to kill a damn chicken?!’
On the outside, however, she remained patient and tried to coax him. "So you’re not eating chicken, then? My mom said she’s making White-Cut Chicken today, with that smooth skin and tender meat."
Kevin Keane suppressed a laugh as he looked at her. "Well, if you can help me hold its legs, I suppose I could give it a try."
Luna Dawson glared at his infuriatingly smug face. She was seething, but she still agreed.
A short while later, a bizarre scene unfolded in the yard.
The two of them were squatting on the ground. One was pinning down the chicken’s head for dear life while the other gripped its feet tightly as the bird thrashed violently.
Luna Dawson shouted, "Hurry up and do it! It keeps trying to kick me!"
"Boss, your knife is useless! I’ve already swiped its neck twice, but it’s not even bleeding!"
He also thought it was ridiculous. Luna Dawson’s knife was absurdly dull—killing a chicken shouldn’t be this hard. He considered just sawing through it with brute force but was afraid of splattering her with blood.
Luna Dawson retorted, "There’s no way my knife is the problem! Maybe you’re the one who’s no good at it!"
"How could I be the one who’s no good?! Fine, I’ll just snap its neck," Kevin Keane said, about to make his move.
Luna Dawson yelled in a panic, "No! You have to bleed it while it’s alive! I want to eat the blood!"
The chicken must have been going insane: ’For crying out loud, can one of you just put me out of my misery!’
Just then, Wayne Dawson and Evan Olson walked into the yard. When they saw the scene, their faces darkened, and they were utterly speechless.
Wayne Dawson spoke first. "Where’s your mother?"
Luna Dawson immediately let go. Freed from her grip, the chicken flapped wildly at Kevin Keane, leaving a feather stuck in his hair.
Luna Dawson struggled to keep from laughing. "Mom was frying the pork belly and got burned by the oil. Rosalind is healing her now."
"Let me do it," Wayne Dawson said, rolling his eyes dramatically. "The way you two are going, you’re more likely to scare it to death."
’They can kill zombies without batting an eye, but they can’t handle one chicken?’
Standing to the side, Evan Olson couldn’t hold it in any longer and doubled over with laughter. "Hahaha, you two are unbelievable."
Kevin Keane: "..."
In truth, it wasn’t really Luna Dawson’s fault. She had a strange sense of empathy for small animals.
She could play with them when they were alive and eat them when they were dead—she was even the family’s designated feather-plucker—but she just couldn’t bear to watch them die. If she did, she wouldn’t be able to eat a single bite.
She was the type to have a soft heart but also an insatiable appetite.
As for the dull knife Kevin Keane had complained about... she’d done that on purpose.
It was his own fault, after all. Who told Mr. Long-Lashes to pretend he was too scared to kill a chicken?
With the return of the master chefs, Wayne Dawson and Rosalind Dawson, the preparations for the New Year’s Eve dinner finally got back on track.
Just past six in the evening, a splendid array of delicacies was brought out to the dining table. The billowing steam, mingled with the fragrance of food, filled the entire house.
Everyone moved to the large dining room, which had a round table big enough for twenty, and took their seats.
Even Little Tiger and Rollo had their own special seats, feasting on a grand platter of meats from land, sea, and air.
Luna Dawson happily took out her camera and snapped a ton of photos from every possible angle.
Everyone was incredibly enthusiastic, each one a total ham, pulling Rollo and Little Tiger in for countless photos.
The large TV in the dining room was playing a pre-downloaded Spring Festival Gala, kicking off the New Year’s Eve dinner in a lively, festive atmosphere.
The spread on the table was a luxurious feast for the post-apocalyptic world: plump and sweet steamed king crab, fragrant pressure-cooked oysters with minced garlic, vividly colored steamed leopard coral grouper, and melt-in-your-mouth pork belly with taro.
In addition, there was White-Cut Chicken and White-Cut Duck with smooth skin and tender meat; roasted lamb chops, crispy on the outside and tender on the inside; roast goose with crisp, flavorful skin; and steamed cured pork and sausage that were savory and rich. Every dish was bursting with flavor.
Since many in the household were from the north, Wayne Dawson and Mrs. Dawson had specifically learned to cook some northern dishes.
A large platter was filled with dumplings stuffed with pork and cabbage, and the Guo Bao Rou was perfectly crispy on the outside, tender on the inside, with a delightful sweet-and-sour taste.
The iron-pot-stewed pork ribs with dried beans had a thick, rich broth, and the meat was fall-off-the-bone tender.
The Di San Xian was rich in color with melt-in-your-mouth potatoes, while a light chicken soup with giblets and bok choy provided a refreshing, palate-cleansing counterpoint; the soup itself was unbelievably savory.
"Time to eat!"
Mrs. Dawson announced with a smile as she brought the last bowl of soup to the table.
Hector was the first to raise his little spoon, shouting in his childish voice, "I want crab! I want oysters!"
Wayne Dawson said with a smile, "Grandpa is the eldest here, so he should be the first to eat."
The grandfather laughed, placed a crab leg in Hector’s bowl, and boomed, "Let’s not stand on ceremony! In the new year, may we all be safe and healthy. Dig in, kids!"
Rhonda Dawson also picked up a piece of crab meat and fed it to Hector. "Slow down, it’s all for you."
Luna Dawson picked up her chopsticks and put a piece of the taro pork belly in Mrs. Dawson’s bowl. "Mom, try this. I’m the one who personally turned on the gas to steam it so well."
Kevin Keane silently shucked an oyster, placed it in Luna Dawson’s bowl, and explained, "An apology for my failure with the chicken."
Then he stared at Luna Dawson, his eyes seeming to beg for praise.
Luna Dawson looked up and gave him a brilliant smile. "I suppose I can forgive you."
The grandfather took a sip of his drink and sighed wistfully. "Having a reunion dinner like this in the apocalypse... it’s not easy."
Evan Olson chimed in, "That’s right. As long as we’re all together, we can get through even the toughest times."
Miles Dawson mumbled through a mouthful of roasted lamb chop, "From now on, let’s work hard to level up and save up Crystal Cores so we can be this happy every day!"
Blake Blue couldn’t help but add, "Yeah. It feels like it’s been years since I’ve been part of something this lively."
Lynn Shelby, while stuffing his face, didn’t forget to tear off some fish meat for Little Tiger. "Hmph, you bet. Before, it was just the four of us, celebrating the New Year all by our lonesome."
Aaron Palmer wasn’t feeling emo anymore. He excitedly raised his glass. "I propose a toast! To a safe and peaceful new year for all of us, and to things only getting better from here!"
"Cheers!"
Everyone raised their glasses, and a crisp clinking sound echoed through the room.
As if he understood, Rollo lifted his head and let out a "WOOF!", making everyone roar with laughter.
In the villa district, many families, like Luna Dawson’s, were doing their best to find the warmth of a reunion in the post-apocalyptic world.
But a few households were cold and desolate, steeped in misery. Yolanda Kramer and her sister were among them.
Yolanda Kramer sat at a cold table, looking at the food laid out on it, and sighed deeply.
Burnt stir-fried cured pork and wood ear mushrooms, along with boiled, sprouted potatoes and sweet potatoes. This was their New Year’s Eve dinner.
Luna Dawson had taken all the supplies from the two basement levels. Luckily, she hadn’t discovered the third-floor storage room, where there were still enough supplies for the two of them to survive.
The solar panels on the roof had been shredded by monstrously overgrown ivy during a rainstorm, so now even turning on a light was a distant luxury.
At the thought of her lightless future, Yolanda Kramer couldn’t stop the tears from falling. ’When will this kind of life ever end?’
She had awakened a strength-type superpower, which should have been her source of confidence in this new world, yet she couldn’t even bring herself to face a single zombie.
The memory of her parents being swarmed and brutally killed by zombies made her tremble so violently she couldn’t even move.