Huang Bing, holding the magazine, stared blankly at Zhou Yan, pondering his words intently.
Zhou Yan took the two magazines from Huang Ying and signed his name.
Although he didn't know why he had to sign next to a bowl of Cross-legged Beef, but they were both annual VIPs at the restaurant, so he tried his best to fulfill this reasonable request.
These brother and sister spent seven yuan everyday at the restaurant—a very consistent expense.
Zhou Yan put away his pen and glanced at Huang Bing.
He hates simps more than anything else in his life.
With that effort, he should earn more money.
And another thing!
In 1984, riding a Jialing 70 motorcycle in Jiazhou as a simp?
How can a person simultaneously possess both a Jialing 70 and low self-esteem?
Master Huang is also a remarkable person.
Huang Ying happily put away the magazines and rolled her eyes at Huang Bing: "Exactly! If you really like her, go home with her and move corn[1]. Don't come back. I get annoyed just looking at you."
"Huang Ying, you...you're going a bit too far." Huang Bing said anxiously.
"I don't care about you, it's not my pocket money anyway." Huang Ying pouted, then turned to Zhou Momo: "Come on, Momo, let's continue drawing."
"Mmm!" Zhou Momo nodded and took Huang Ying's hand.
Huang Bing looked at Zhou Yan's face with envy: "If I grew up to look like you, Xue Er definitely wouldn't have tested me."
However, he quickly dismissed the idea, thinking, "If I looked like that, shouldn't she be the one facing the test?"
Zhou Yan looked at him, wondering what this guy was muttering to himself.
"Brother Yan, you haven't been in a relationship before, have you?" Huang Bing suddenly asked.
"Women will only slow down my money-making speed. Dating? I wouldn't even date a dog." Zhou Yan curled his lip.
"You...you...you're such a waste!" Huang Bing said, exasperated. "If I looked like you, I'd change girlfriends every week!"
"Then you're probably daydreaming." Zhou Yan said seriously.
"Forget it, let's not talk about that. My girlfriend from last month, I caught her hooking up with my little brother a few days ago, those shameless scumbags! Now the girl I'm pursuing, Xue Er, is an artsy young woman, I probably won't win her over by just showering her with gifts." Huang Bing moved closer to Zhou Yan and whispered, "Brother Yan, your handwriting is so beautiful, you must be able to write love letters, right?"
"Love letters?" Zhou Yan hesitated. The one he wrote to Xia Yao didn't count, did it?
Seeing hope in his hesitation, Huang Bing quickly said, "It won't be for nothing. If you write me a love letter, I'll give you one yuan as the writing fee."
"One yuan?" Zhou Yan's finger twitched.
"Add another one yuan!" Huang Bing said through gritted teeth. "Just one page is enough!"
Zhou Yan smiled and shook his hand, his smile sincere: "Forget about money, we're friends."
This writing practice wasn't for nothing! Earning two yuan for a page of love letter is equivalent to Laifu selling two slabs of tofu.
He never wrote love letters, but he took a lot of notes on what the old prince of love letters was talking about.
He can effortlessly compose opening remarks, closing remarks, and various literary quotes.
Zhou Yan glanced at his watch and smiled, saying, "Come on, I'll write it for you now."
"Okay!" Huang Bing cheerfully followed him inside.
Huang Ying, standing to the side, looked up and shook her head helplessly.
Ten minutes later, Huang Bing came out happily with a letter in his hand, muttering to himself: "Xue Er, seeing this letter is like seeing me in person; I hope it brings a smile to your face."
Beside the counter, Zhou Yan put two yuan into the cash box, turned around with a smug look, and went into the kitchen.
The "money-adding guy" was really efficient, the two yuan arrived in ten minutes. This money was too easy to earn.
"It's so well written, the writing is superb! These two yuan are really worth it!" Huang Bing praised repeatedly, and Xue Er would definitely agree after reading it.
"Let me see." Huang Ying leaned closer.
"What's a little girl like you looking at?" Huang Bing immediately folded the letter and put it in his pocket.
"Get lost! Fine, don't let me see it then!" Huang Ying gritted her teeth.
...
Evening.
Second floor of the guesthouse, in a room.
Two sheets of oil paper are spread out on a small table, containing braised pig's head meat and braised beef.
Three liquor glasses are on the table.
He Zhiyuan and Huang Chen sit facing each other, raising their glasses in a toast.
Xiao Li, unable to hold his liquor, is already fast asleep on the bed.
Huang Chen picked up a piece of pig's head meat and put it in his mouth. While chewing, he said with emotion, "I never expected that there was such a story behind Zhang Ji Braised Food. Only you could dig it out. I have often visited Old Zhou's family for the past ten years, but I have never heard Old Mrs. Zhang mention it."
"It's normal that you don't know. These are things that the older generation usually don't talk about." He Zhiyuan took a sip of liquor and said, "I went for a walk around in the evening. There were quite a few individual vendors selling soup pots at the bridgehead and the dock. Xiao Li and I roughly counted, and there were at least twelve. They are all families of butchers in Zhou Village who butcher cattle themselves and then use the leftover scraps to make soup pots. It's quite a large operation."
"Soup pots are indeed quite common. The scale of cattle slaughtering in Zhou Village has grown significantly in the past two years. Offal that is not easy to sell outside the town and must be processed on the same day will be brought to the town to be made into soup pots and sold." Huang Chen nodded and said with a smile, "Actually, the Cross-legged Beef that Zhou Yan makes is the same as Zhou Village soup pot, but his Cross-legged Beef tastes better and he has given it a more special name."
"Since you're in charge of Suji's economy, I have a suggestion for you: perhaps you could try to scale up the production of Cross-legged Beef. If this works, not only will the individual vendors making Cross-legged Beef earn more money, but if it can attract tourists from Jiazhou to Suji, where they'll spend money on food, drinks, and entertainment, then it will be a huge opportunity for Suji's development." He Zhiyuan put down his liquor glass and said with a smile:
"Look, the yellow catfish in Xinjin is becoming increasingly famous. Many gourmets from Rongcheng will make a special trip to Xinjin on holidays to eat wild yellow catfish. There are also more and more restaurants serving yellow catfish, and business is booming."
Huang Chen nodded thoughtfully upon hearing this, put down his chopsticks, and earnestly asked, "You are knowledgeable and experienced. How would you best proceed with this? To be honest, the taste of those dozen or so soup pot stalls is still not quite as good as Zhou Yan's Cross-legged Beef.
Should I ask Zhou Yan to share the recipe? That probably wouldn't be appropriate. That's how they make their money, and their business is just getting on track."
"Forget about the recipe. Zhou Yan is a shrewd kid. He's got me completely fooled. He hasn't revealed a single secret to me, and instead, I've willingly given him free advertising." He Zhiyuan shook his head with a smile.
"But he's not the kind of person who makes money for himself but doesn't let others make money. There's a stall called 'Zhou Ji Qiao Jiao Niu Rou' at the dock, which is run by two brothers. I originally thought that someone else saw that Zhou Yan's Cross-legged Beef was selling well and changed the name to try and piggyback on it. But after I sat down and ordered a serving, I found that the taste was almost the same as Zhou Yan's."
"I only found out after talking to the owner that the two brothers were Zhou Yan's cousins, named Zhou Jie and Zhou Hai, and they learned the skills from Zhou Yan. There are six or seven soup pot stalls on the dock, and their prices are the most expensive, but their business is the best."
"My advice is to protect the 'Zhou Ji Qiao Jiao Niu Rou' brand. You should help Zhou Yan register this trademark and then strictly investigate and punish vendors who use the name, so that 'Zhou Ji Qiao Jiao Niu Rou' won't be everywhere. If customers come and are deceived, the reputation will be ruined, and it will be difficult to succeed."
"Suji is not a big town, but there are two places with high-quality Cross-legged Beef. In these two years, they have been able to support the influx of customers from outside the town. They have built up their reputation first. As long as the Cross-legged Beef business is booming, other individual vendors selling soup pot in the town will soon take the initiative to improve their skills, refine the recipes and methods of making soup pot, and continuously try to get closer to the level of Zhou Ji Qiao Jiao Niu Rou."
"I've looked at the soup pots at other stalls, and the ingredients are fine, but the cooking skills are lacking. But as long as people see that making Cross-legged Beef is profitable, they will naturally rack their brains to study and improve, enhance the quality, and compete with Zhou Ji Qiao Jiao Niu Rou."
"All large scale culinary industries basically go through this process. Differences in ingredients result in different flavors, and after a few years, they will flourish in a diverse range of styles, which is more fascinating than uniformity. In this process, necessary supervision to prevent the bad from driving out the good is what you all should be doing."
Huang Chen had taken out his notebook at some point and was quickly writing half a page with a pen.
Closing his notebook, Huang Chen raised his glass and said, "Your suggestion is quite professional and constructive. Taking advantage of the momentum from your 'Sichuan Cuisine' magazine, I'll submit this for discussion at tomorrow's meeting and see what else we can do."
...
"Zhou Yan, I think we can add another twenty or thirty bowls of Cross-legged Beef. As the weather gets colder, more and more customers are eating Cross-legged Beef. One hundred and twenty bowls are not enough to sell. We can sell eighty or ninety bowls at noon, and many customers want to order it but can't get it in the evening." Aunt Zhao walked to the counter and said to Zhou Yan, who was keeping accounts.
Zhou Yan looked up and said, "Alright, then we'll add twenty bowls tomorrow. If more customers order later, we'll add more."
"Recently, besides factory workers, I've noticed some teachers and government staff from the town coming to eat Cross-legged Beef." Aunt Zhao said with a smile. "I see our restaurant's reputation is getting better and better!"
"That's right. With you and Dad managing the entrance and the main hall, the customers' experience is top-notch. They all leave with smiles on their faces." Zhou Yan said with a laugh.
"I might have done a little work cutting the meat, but it's all thanks to your mother." Comrade Old Zhou said with a smile as he came in after pouring out the foot bath water.
"Tsk tsk, you two are getting better and better at talking." Aunt Zhao's lips curled up, she was in a very good mood.
"What about me? What about me!" Zhou Momo raised her little hand, looking at Zhou Yan with a face full of expectation, her little face practically screaming, "Praise me! Praise me!"
"Zhou Momo, the best salesperson!" Zhou Yan gave her a thumbs up and took out one ten cents from the cash box: "Here, this is today's bonus. Let's invite our top salesperson to receive the award."
"Oh my god! Another ten cents!" Zhou Momo's eyes lit up, and she held out her two little hands to Zhou Yan.
Zhou Yan solemnly placed the money in her hand and encouraged her, "Little Zhou Momo, please keep up the good work and create even greater achievements."
"Mmm." Zhou Momo took the money, ran over and hugged Zhou Yan's leg, her smile exceptionally bright: "Guo Guo, I love you!"
"Good girl." Zhou Yan smiled and patted her head. A tiny little gummy candy hugs your leg and says "I love you", whose heart wouldn't melt?
Aunt Zhao and Comrade Old Zhou stood to the side, their faces beaming with smiles.
"Alright, go to sleep. Let your Guo Guo finish writing down the accounts and get some rest." Aunt Zhao came over and picked up Zhou Momo.
"Goodnight, Guo Guo." Zhou Momo waved to Zhou Yan, turned around and hugged Aunt Zhao's neck, and said in a childish voice in her ear, "Mommy, I have lots and lots of money. I'll buy you a gold necklace in the future, okay? Just like the one that Fangfang's mommy wears."
"Aiyo, my youngest daughter is so filial! Mommy is so happy!" Aunt Zhao beamed.
"Then will you make me egg pancakes again tomorrow morning, and add a little extra sugar?" the little one said.
"Okay, since you're so eloquent, I'll make you an egg pancake tomorrow too." Aunt Zhao carried Zhou Momo upstairs.
"Want to play a couple of games of chess after you've finished writing the accounts?" Comrade Old Zhou took out his handmade chessboard and asked Zhou Yan.
"Come on, let's see who's afraid of whom!" Zhou Yan threw the last roll of money into the box and closed the ledger.
The two inept chess players battled it out in three games, with Zhou Yan narrowly winning the third game, taking a 2-1 lead.
"No, no, I went the wrong way, I won't go this way."
"Dad, a true gentleman never takes back his moves!"
"Don't be so smug. I made a mistake. Let's start over tomorrow night!" Comrade Old Zhou put away the chess pieces and went upstairs with a look of regret.
Zhou Yan was in a great mood. He took out some letter papers from the cabinet, picked up a pen, and wrote a letter to Xia Yao, sharing his experience of being published in the Sichuan Cuisine magazine and some interesting things that had happened in his life recently.
After writing three more pages, Zhou Yan finally signed his name at the end and realized his lips were slightly sore from smiling for so long.
Indeed, sharing happy things with others brings joy to oneself.
The interview with the old lady went quite smoothly today, and He Zhiyuan was very satisfied. The chances of it being published should be quite high, meeting his expectations.
His goal was to make Comrade Zhang Shufen famous in the braised food industry.
If Zhang Ji Braised Food becomes famous, it will also benefit him, since he is the legitimate successor of Zhang Ji Braised Food.
He Zhiyuan was going to interview Aunt Sun, and Zhou Yan thought it was a good idea, so he wrote them a note.
Aunt Sun had made tofu for most of her life. If she could appear in a magazine with the old lady, even if it's just a short paragraph, that would be a way of leaving a mark.
He had already planned to go to Shangshui Village tomorrow after he finished his work at noon to take Aunt Sun to see a doctor about her eyes and legs.
Laifu was quite pitiful. If Aunt Sun could stay with him for a few more years, and he could live independently, his situation would be much better.
…
At night, Comrade Old Zhou turned over and muttered, "What if I had made that move? Would I have won...?"
…
The next morning, at the stone bridge.
He Zhiyuan took Xiao Li to the market, something he particularly enjoyed doing whenever he arrived in a new place.
In the morning markets of each place, one could feel the purest, most authentic local atmosphere.
The vendors' calls, the haggling between customers and vendors, and some unique local foods all combine to create an interesting morning.
"Look around for a tofu stall. It belongs to Zhou Yan's cousin. He shouldn't be very old." He Zhiyuan said to Xiao Li, looking around.
"Silent Tofu Stall? Why that name?" Xiao Li asked, looking around, puzzled.
"Zhou Yan probably named it that. The weirder the name, the more customers it attracts. It's a marketing tactic." He Zhiyuan said with a smile.
He planned to return to Rongcheng in the afternoon, but needed to transfer in Jiazhou first, so He Zhiyuan brought Xiao Li to the stone bridge early in the morning, intending to leave after interviewing Zhou Yan's aunt.
They walked past two tofu stalls, one run by an old man and the other by a woman, neither of which fit the description.
"Editor-in-Chief! Look at that sign!" Xiao Li suddenly pointed to a red sign standing ahead.
He Zhiyuan looked in the direction he was pointing and saw a conspicuous sign in front of a small tofu stall.
Written in red ink: Xiba Tofu! 20 cents a jin!
Below, in yellow paint, were written: Silent Tofu Stall.
He Zhiyuan recognized the handwriting immediately as Zhou Yan's.
"That's it, let's go take a look." He Zhiyuan called out and walked forward.
As the two approached, they discovered a boy sitting behind the small table. He was about fifteen or sixteen years old, with delicate features, but was extremely thin. His Zhongshan suit was clearly a size too big, hanging loosely as if it was on a thin bamboo branch.
An older woman with curly hair bought the remaining three pieces of tofu, handed him sixty cents, and said gently, "Pack up your stall early, I'll come back to buy some after two days."
The boy held the money in his left hand, bent his right thumb twice, and smiled innocently.
He Zhiyuan and Xiao Li watched this scene, then glanced at the small black characters below the sign, and both fell silent.
"I deserve to die…" He Zhiyuan muttered.
"You…you didn't expect it to turn out like this." Xiao Li comforted him.
The fashionable auntie left with her tofu, leaving only He Zhiyuan and Xiao Li at the stall.
The young man was about to pack up when he saw the two still standing there, and smiled, pointing to the empty table.
"We…" He Zhiyuan spoke, but then, remembering that the boy was deaf and mute, he quickly took out the note Zhou Yan had written for him and handed it to the boy.
Yesterday, he had been a little puzzled as to why Zhou Yan's note was so detailed, almost like a letter of introduction, stating their identities and purpose.
Now he understood. He was worried that there might be a communication barrier between the boy named Laifu and them, so he made things clear in advance.
Laifu took the paper, looked at it for a while, smiled and nodded. He reached into the pocket of his Zhongshan suit and took out a pencil stub about the length of a finger. He wrote a line on the back of the paper: "Brother Zhou Yan already told me this morning, do you two want to come home with me?"
The boy's handwriting was very neat.
He Zhiyuan took the pen and paper from Xiao Li and wrote, "Is this convenient?"
Laifu smiled and nodded, then wrote, "It's a bit far, about a half-hour walk."
He Zhiyuan wrote, "No problem."
"Okay, please wait while I pack my things." Laifu smiled and wrote a line, then began to bend down to pack his things.
The small table was folded up and stuffed into the basket along with the tofu grid. The signboard was tied to the basket with rope and then carried on the back.
The large basket, slung over the boy's thin shoulders, appeared even larger.
Laifu smiled at the two of them, waved, and walked ahead.
He Zhiyuan and Xiao Li followed, and suddenly felt a little uneasy.
When they reached the bridgehead, He Zhiyuan glanced at the meat stall next to him and said to Xiao Li, "You walk slowly with him. I'll buy them a jin of meat. We don't come empty-handed."
"Okay, Editor-in-Chief, I'll tell him to slow down." Xiao Li nodded.
He Zhiyuan bought more than a jin of pork belly. When he turned around, he found Laifu and Xiao Li waiting under a big tree, their smiles revealing a hint of restraint and innocence.
"Never mind, just take the rest of the piece for me." He Zhiyuan said, turning around.
"Two jin and six liang, that'll be two yuan and fifty cents." Zhang Laosan said, tying the meat with straw and handing it to He Zhiyuan. He glanced at Laifu standing to the side and asked curiously, "Are you related to that tofu-selling kid?"
"Not relatives, but…" He Zhiyuan took out some money and handed it over, then paused, "We're just friends, it wouldn't be right to go to his house empty-handed."
"Well, you're quite a good friend, bringing so much meat." Zhang Laosan said with a smile.
He Zhiyuan smiled and nodded, carrying the meat towards Xiao Li and Laifu.
The three walked for half an hour before finally arriving at the dilapidated house.
The house, half-collapsed, was barely covered by tarpaulin, and the air was filled with the aroma of soy milk.
He Zhiyuan and Xiao Li stood outside the gate, their eyes filled with undisguised surprise.
Laifu stepped forward, pushed open the door, and waved to the two people inside.
He Zhiyuan followed him inside. The courtyard was filled with bamboo poles hanging with golden dried bean curd sticks, swaying gently in the autumn wind like golden flags.
In the middle of the courtyard, three stoves were burning, and soy milk was boiling in an iron pot. An old woman with red and swollen eyes and gray hair sat on a stool, holding a small stick in her hand. She gently lifted and rolled the soy milk skin in the pot, and then carefully hung it on the bamboo pole next to her.
The old lady's eyes were red and swollen, her right leg was curled up and seemed to be in a difficult position, her clothes were full of patches but were clean, and her fingernails were neatly trimmed.
Hearing the noise, the old lady squinted towards the doorway and hesitated before asking, "Laifu, who are they?"
Laifu put down his basket and gestured to the old lady.
He Zhiyuan said, "Grandma, my name is He Zhiyuan. I'm the deputy editor-in-chief of 'Sichuan Cuisine' magazine. This is my assistant, Xiao Li."
"What kind of place is the magazine office?" the old lady asked, puzzled.
"We're Zhou Yan's friends. We interviewed Grandma Zhang Shufen yesterday, and we ate your dried tofu and dried bean curd sticks at Zhou Yan's restaurant. We thought they were so authentic, so we wanted to come and interview you." He Zhiyuan explained.
"You're Sister Fen and Zhou Yan's friends, please come in and have a seat." Hearing this, Old Mrs. Sun smiled and, supporting herself on a chair, stood up unsteadily. "Please sit in the main room, I'll make you some tea."
Seeing the old lady limping, He Zhiyuan quickly stepped forward and said, "No need, no need. You're still making soy milk here. You go ahead and do your work. We don't need tea. We can chat while you work in the yard."
Upon hearing this, Old Mrs. Sun sat down again, used a small stick to peel off the bean curd skin from the pot next to her, and said, "Alright, then I'll finish making these three pots of soy milk. It's really not easy to start a fire later."
"We came from Rongcheng without any preparation. We just bought some meat for you in town." He Zhiyuan handed the meat to Laifu.
"No, no, you're guests, why are you bringing meat?" Old Mrs. Sun stood up again in a hurry, waving her hands repeatedly.
He Zhiyuan said with a smile, "There's no reason to come empty-handed. This is just a small token of our appreciation. We are friends with Zhou Yan, and you are our elder, so it's only right that we do this."
Tears welled up in Old Mrs. Sun's eyes, and she sighed softly, "We've made you spend money."
She gestured a few times with her hands, signaling Laifu to take the meat and bring it into the kitchen.
Laifu brought out two bamboo chairs for them to sit on, and soon after, he brewed two cups of tea and helped his grandmother peel off the dried bean curd sticks and hang them on bamboo poles.
"Your youngest grandson is so sensible. Although he can't speak, but his eyes are full of life, and he is very polite." He Zhiyuan said with emotion.
"There's nothing we can do. Children from poor families have to learn to be independent early. This kid has a hard life, being born into a poor family like ours." Grandma Sun looked at Laifu, who was busy beside her, with a hint of heartache on her face.
He Zhiyuan was silent for a while, then changed the subject and said, "Grandma, I heard from Zhou Yan that you married into the family from Xiba Town. Your tofu-making skills are really good. I thought Zhou Yan's dried tofu and dried bean curd sticks came from Xiba. The taste is so authentic. Who did you learn this skill from?"
The old lady turned around, a smile on her face, and said, "My family is from Xiba Town. I married into Suji when I was nineteen. My tofu-making skills are a family tradition, my family has been making tofu for generations..."
Xiao Li had already placed his notebook on his lap and started writing rapidly.
...
After the restaurant closed for business at noon, Zhou Yan put a bag of pig's head meat in the basket of his bicycle, put two rolls of money in his pocket, and was about to leave when he saw two people coming in at the entrance of the restaurant.
"Grandma?" Zhou Yan looked at the old woman in the lead with some surprise, then glanced at the old man following behind her.
The old man looked to be in his seventies, wearing a gray Zhongshan suit. He had lost most of his hair, except for a small tuft of white hair that he had deliberately grown long, stubbornly coiling it around his head as if hair could grow back in that coiled area.
In contrast, his beard was much thicker, with long, silvery-white hairs growing under his chin, giving him a somewhat otherworldly and ethereal appearance.
"Are you going out?" the old lady asked, looking at Zhou Yan pushing the bicycle.
"I'm planning to visit my great-aunt and take her to the clinic or the factory hospital to get her eyes and legs checked." Zhou Yan said.
The old lady smiled upon hearing this and said, "That's perfect! I was also planning to take Big Head to see Lihua. Where's your Dad? Tell him to ride his bicycle and give us a ride too."
"Grandma, who is this old gentleman?" Zhou Yan asked, looking at the old man next to her.
"Third Sister, give me some face in front of the younger generation." The old man spoke up, looking at Zhou Yan with a smile, "Zhou Yan, right? My name is Zhang Zhengping, you should call me Granduncle. I came to Zhou Village this morning to visit Third Sister, and after lunch she called me to go see your great-aunt for a medical checkup.
We're old and can't walk anymore, so we have to trouble you young people to give us a ride."
[1] Bao Gu Xue: Bao Gu means corn in Chinese, so Huang Ying used this word to tease Huang Bing.