Zhao Tieying's words made both Zhou Yan and Zhao Hong laugh.
"Fourth Grandma, Uncle!" Zhou Lihui stood up straight with his school bag on his back, smiling innocently as he greeted them.
"Huihui, you're up early." Zhou Yan said with a smile.
"He's been reciting his lessons all the way here today. It's the first time I've seen him actively studying. He said he wants to learn all the characters." Zhao Hong said, full of pride.
Zhou Yan nodded upon hearing this, "That's the right kind of enthusiasm."
"Yes." Zhou Lihui nodded vigorously.
Zhou Liangliang wasn't afraid of Zhou Yan, but he was a little intimidated by Zhao Tieying. When he looked up, he unfortunately made eye contact with her, so he could only force a smile and say, "Auntie Zhao, you came early."
"I'm not early, but you two certainly have sharp noses, coming here as soon as you smelled something." Zhao Tieying said with a forced smile.
Zhou Liangliang's mother, Gao Cuihua, was the village women's director. Two years ago, she had an argument with Zhao Tieying over Zhou Momo's household registration, and was easily defeated by her.
Zhou Liangliang gave an awkward, silly smile, not daring to respond.
He considered himself too low in rank and no match for this wicked woman, Zhao Tieying.
Seeing that he didn't even dare to speak, Zhao Tieying withdrew her gaze, feeling bored.
Zhou Yan lifted Zhou Momo out of the carrying basket and gently placed her on the bed.
The little one, like a caterpillar, immediately burrowed into the covers as soon as she touched the bed, and continued to sleep soundly.
Zhou Yan tucked the corner of the blanket around her and turned to go downstairs.
At the entrance of the restaurant, Zhou Jie parked his bicycle to the side, locked it, and glanced at the stall across the street, looking somewhat surprised. "Zhou Liangliang? Why did they move their stall here?"
"They moved it yesterday." Zhou Yan said with a smile. "They probably think it's easier to do business next to me."
"This bastard son is shameless. He saw my business was good before and insisted on setting up his stall next to mine. Now he sees your business is good and moves across from you. Does he think we brothers are easy to bully?" Zhou Jie said angrily, rolling up his sleeves and about to walk across the street.
"Never mind, never mind, it's not easy for anyone." Zhou Yan quickly stopped him. "Let him set up his stall. If he doesn't, someone else will. Selling food is all about skill and taste."
"But..."
"If he sets up next to you, he'll only sell ten or twenty bowls a day. If he sets up across from me, his business won't be any better." Zhou Yan said with a smile. "Those two aren't the type to do things properly. They haven't even mastered selling soup pot, and now they want to sell noodles? They're biting off more than they can chew."
Zhou Jie looked at the confident Zhou Yan and smiled, "That makes sense."
"Come on, today I'll teach you the authentic way to make Cross-legged Beef."
"Cross-legged Beef? Isn't it just soup pot?"
"Soup pot isn't catchy enough, so I used the name 'Cross-legged Beef' that the older generation used." Zhou Yan said, leading Zhou Jie to look at the sign and the brand story in front of the clay stove.
Zhou Jie nodded repeatedly after reading it, "It looks much more upscale than just soup pot. You're so smart."
"Come on, I'll teach you the recipe today." Zhou Yan walked into the shop.
"Fourth Aunt, Sister in law." Zhou Jie greeted them as he entered, and was surprised to see Zhou Lihui standing to the side, "Hey? Why is Huihui also in the shop?"
"Third Uncle, I've come to learn cooking from my younger uncle." Zhou Lihui replied.
"Aren't you only in the third year of junior high school? Aren't you going to study anymore?" Zhou Jie asked, puzzled.
"He'll still study. He'll come over in the morning with my sister in law to help until 7:30, and then go to school." Zhou Yan explained for him. "He wants to be a chef, so I'm letting him experience it first."
"Learning to cook from your younger uncle is great. Your younger uncle is very skilled. I'm here to become his apprentice today." Zhou Jie said, smiling and putting his arm around Zhou Lihui's shoulder. "From now on, we'll be fellow disciples."
"Then... you'll call me senior brother? And I'll call you Third Uncle?" Zhou Lihui asked expectantly.
"You're really dreaming big! You calling me senior brother is more like it." Zhou Jie said, gently patting his head.
Everyone laughed, and the atmosphere became relaxed and pleasant.
"Come on, Brother Jie, let's start with making the broth today." Zhou Yan said with a smile, beckoning Zhou Jie over. He then said to Zhou Lihui, "Huihui, you'll be in charge of fetching water this morning. Make sure to fill this pot."
"Okay, Master Zhou." Zhou Jie replied with a smile.
"Okay! Master Zhou!" Zhou Lihui also turned and headed towards the kitchen.
Zhou Yan began explaining everything from how to arrange the bones in the pot, how many bones to use for a pot of broth, which parts of the bones to use, the quantities, the selection of beef offal... he explained everything in great detail.
Zhou Jie held a small notebook in his hand, meticulously writing down all the key points Zhou Yan mentioned.
He had been making broth for two years, and what Zhou Yan was explaining wasn't much different from what he already knew.
But the difference between a good chef and an ordinary chef lies in those subtle differences, and Zhou Jie understood this perfectly.
His broth stood out among so many stalls at the dock because of the subtle differences he had painstakingly researched; these minute details determined the taste of the broth.
Even a slight difference in the amount of spices used could result in a completely different flavor.
Zhou Lihui carried bucket after bucket of water and poured them into the pot, working very diligently.
Although only fifteen years old, he possessed boundless strength, able to carry two buckets of water at once—a family trait.
"These are all the spices, and there are also these several kinds of traditional Chinese medicine..." Zhou Yan held a small scale, weighing and putting the ingredients into a gauze bag. "The dosage must be precise; too little won't be effective, and too much will make the taste too strong, turning the soup into medicine, making it undrinkable."
"Adding so many kinds of traditional Chinese medicine, the cost must be quite high, right?" Zhou Jie asked, somewhat surprised.
"If it was the same as the soup pot sold by others, I wouldn't dare sell it for sixty cents." Zhou Yan chuckled.
"You've really put in some good stuff." Zhou Jie nodded, carefully noting down the amounts of various spices and traditional Chinese medicine.
"At the beginning, don't burn the fire too fiercely. Use a fine-mesh strainer to skim off the foam little by little. If you do this step well, the soup will be clear, without any impurities, making it pleasant to look at and drink, fresh and not gamey." Zhou Yan handed the strainer to Zhou Jie. "Next, just watch the pot and skim slowly, simmering over a low heat. Let my mother explain the precautions to you."
Zhou Yan asked Aunt Zhao to provide guidance, while he himself went into the kitchen to start preparing the toppings and stir-frying the meat stew.
Zhou Lihui became his little assistant, responsible for odd jobs like washing vegetables and tending the fire.
Originally, he should have started by practicing knife skills, but the restaurant currently didn't have any extra ingredients for him to practice with, so he had to put it off for the time being.
The young boy didn't have a single complaint, sitting in front of the stove with a determined look on his face, as if he was preparing for a postgraduate entrance exam.
Zhao Hong watched this scene with a smile and then went to the doorway to chat with Zhao Tieying.
Around seven o'clock, workers started arriving for work.
Zhou Yan placed the notice he had written yesterday in a conspicuous position at the entrance, informing everyone in advance: From today onwards, Zhou Erwa Restaurant will only serve noodles in the morning; lunch and dinner will only offer cooked and stir-fried dishes.
Meanwhile, across the street, Zhou Liangliang and his wife also started shouting to attract customers: "Noodles for sale! Fifty cents a bowl! Only fifty cents a bowl!"
"They're really cheap, ten cents cheaper than ours, and they're still shouting so loudly." Zhou Jie grumbled, gnashing his teeth in anger.
Zhao Tieying remained calm: "Don't worry, Wang Laowu has already gone to jail, this stall has bad feng shui, they won't succeed."
The aftermath of the incident involving the Sichuan Academy of Fine Arts students eating two meals at the restaurant hadn't yet subsided. Many of the workers who didn't get to eat noodles the day before had decided to come and try them today, curious to see just how delicious the noodles at Zhou Erwa Restaurant were, since they had received such high praise from the art students.
Zhou Liangliang's shout did attract the attention of some workers.
"Zhou Liangliang's soup pot and noodles? Is this a rivalry within Zhou Village?"
"He's taken over Wang Laowu's noodle stall to sell noodles, is he trying to compete with Zhou Yan? I wonder what his cooking skills are like?"
"Is that the Zhou Village soup pot in that pot? It's 10 cents cheaper than Zhou Erwa Restaurant, but the average Zhou Village soup pot only sells for 30 cents, right?"
Their curiosity piqued, some people naturally went over to take a look.
Zhou Liangliang and Wu Guihua quickly put on smiling faces, overjoyed. Business at the textile factory entrance was indeed good; noodles at fifty cents a bowl, and just one shout could attract so many workers, and they could all afford it.
As soon as they got closer, the workers all frowned.
A pungent, unpleasant smell of improperly prepared offal wafted from the soup pot with the rising steam, hitting them on the face and making them stop in their tracks.
They then looked at the several bowls of noodle toppings displayed in front of the pot.
The minced meat topping was dry and crumbly, not at all appetizing.
The braised beef was shapeless, a mushy mess in the bowl, clearly overcooked.
The chicken offal was the wrong color, pale white, completely unappetizing.
"What kind of toppings and stew are these? My grandma cooks better than this, even Wang Laowu is better!"
"Can just anyone set up a food stall these days?"
"They're selling this stuff for fifty cents? Even Wang Laowu isn't that greedy."
The workers shook their heads and turned to leave, as if they had made a firm decision.
There's only a certain group of people who love noodles, and they have high standards when it comes to eating noodles.
Zhou Liangliang and Wu Guihua's smiles froze on their faces. They looked on with confusion, bewilderment, and resentment as the customers walked straight towards Zhou Erwa Restaurant.
Of course, the smiles didn't disappear completely.
They simply shifted to the faces of Zhao Tieying and Zhou Jie.
"Come inside, everyone, please take a seat! Today's pickled radishes are delicious..."
Aunt Zhao greeted the arriving customers with a beaming smile.