Morning light spilled over the low-rise buildings at the edge of the city. Chen Chen placed the final waterproof tarp over the backseat of his second-hand van.
Underneath it lay half a pig, freshly retrieved from his "space button."
He circled the vehicle twice, making sure there was no unusual smell, before opening the door.
The steering wheel still carried the faint scent of cigarettes left by the previous owner, nicknamed "Fatty." The odometer read 120,000 kilometers, and the gear lever clicked slightly when shifted—but the van was surprisingly stable.
Last night, he had called his old classmate Zhao Wen, who now worked at the City Agricultural Product Quality Testing Center. As soon as Zhao Wen heard Chen Chen wanted something tested, he had agreed without hesitation.
"Chenzi, others usually need three to seven days for testing, but I'll keep an eye on it for you. I promise results within three days," Zhao Wen said in his familiar, straightforward tone over the phone. "But don't send me anything weird. Old friends are old friends, but rules are rules."
Chen Chen had laughed. "Don't worry. I'm just sending over a premium pig for testing. When the results are out, dinner's on me."
By the time the van pulled into the testing center's parking lot, Zhao Wen was already waiting at the entrance.
He had put on some weight since their school days and wore a dark blue work uniform. When he saw Chen Chen lug half a pig out of the trunk, his eyes lit up.
"Where did you get this pig? Looks great! Far better than the feed pigs you usually see in the market."
"I took it myself," Chen Chen said, skirting around the topic of the garbage center. "I just wanted to check the quality."
Together, they carried the pig into the testing room. Zhao Wen skillfully called over colleagues to collect meat and blood samples, then ran tests on the acidity and fat content. He muttered as he worked, "Just by looking at this meat, its moisture content is lower than regular pork, which means it'll taste tender and fresh."
By the time they finished, it was nearly noon. Chen Chen mentioned dinner, but Zhao Wen waved him off.
"My wife's strict. Ever since I was hospitalized for acute pancreatitis last year, she set a rule: come home after work, and even eating out has to include the family," he said, scratching his head with a helpless smile. "When you have time, bring your wife along; we'll have a proper meal together."
"Alright, I won't be formal then," Chen Chen replied, saying goodbye before driving home.
For the next two days, Chen Chen played the role of a domestic househusband.
Recently, Ji Yunli had been working the early shift at the clothing store—leaving at nine in the morning and finishing at three in the afternoon.
Chen Chen varied the lunch menu daily, from stir-fried vegetables to braised fish, enjoying a delicious, leisurely life.
Ji Yunli said nothing, but during meals, she would secretly sneak extra food onto Chen Chen's plate, her eyes twinkling with amusement.
On the third day, at ten in the morning, Chen Chen was simmering a batch of pork rib soup when his phone rang. It was Zhao Wen.
"Chenzi, I've sent the test results to your WeChat. Check them out!" Zhao Wen's voice was full of excitement. "Your pig is amazing! Protein content is 23% higher than ordinary pork, cholesterol is 18% lower, no antibiotics or heavy metals detected—and I had the cafeteria chef taste it. No off-flavor at all; it's fresh!"
Chen Chen exhaled in relief and opened the PDF report. Every metric was highlighted in red as "exceeding national standards," and the final conclusion read: Recommended for promotion as a premium agricultural product.
Before Zhao Wen could respond further, he hesitated, then asked, "Uh… Chenzi, do you have more pigs like this? Could you get some for me? I want some for my parents—they love meat, especially at their age."
"Forget buying. I'll bring some over," Chen Chen replied firmly. He knew Zhao Wen's personality; he disliked taking advantage of others, even old classmates. If Zhao Wen was asking for it, the meat must really be good.
"That won't do. This meat must be expensive—I should pay you," Zhao Wen protested.
They argued over the phone for a while. In the end, Chen Chen didn't convince him and said, "Consider it a thank-you for helping out." Zhao Wen finally agreed reluctantly.
After hanging up, Chen Chen retrieved fifty kilograms of meat from his space button, including pork belly, pig trotters, and intestines. He packed them into three large storage bags and drove to Zhao Wen's house.
Zhao Wen's wife opened the door, spatula in hand. Seeing Chen Chen carrying the meat, she quickly invited him in and called Zhao Wen: "Wenzi, your friend's here! Come out!"
Chen Chen didn't stay long—after putting the meat down, he left.
Zhao Wen handed him two boxes of homegrown strawberries to take back. "My wife grew these on the balcony. Give them to your wife to taste."
Chen Chen accepted them warmly, feeling the sincere warmth of old friendships.
By the time he returned home, Ji Yunli had finished work and was watching TV in the living room.
Chen Chen placed the strawberries on the coffee table, then retrieved a large chunk of pork belly, a pig trotter, and a pig head from his space button.
"Tonight, I'm going to show off a bit and make a feast," he said with a smile.
Ji Yunli's eyes brightened. "This meat is good enough to eat? Way better than the market stuff."
Rolling up his sleeves, Chen Chen entered the kitchen. He cut the pork belly into chunks, blanched it with cooking wine, stir-fried until the oil released, caramelized it with rock sugar, and finally braised it with light and dark soy sauces. The pig trotters were blanched and cooked in a pressure cooker for forty minutes, then simmered with soybeans and ginger in a clay pot. The pig head was slow-cooked with a spice bundle; the aroma of star anise, cinnamon, and bay leaves quickly filled the house.
Just after five, as the braised pig head was being brought to the table, Chen Chen called Fatty and Deng Lijun over for dinner.
"Chen, what are you cooking? I can smell it through the phone!" Fatty's voice was loud with excitement.
"Wait till you get here. Hurry up," Chen Chen replied, placing the braised pork in a large bowl and bringing the pig trotters and soup to the table—three overflowing dishes in total.
Soon, the doorbell rang.
Fatty rushed straight to the dining room, eyes wide at the feast. "My God! Braised pork! Braised pig head! Pig trotters soup! Chen, are you rich now?!"
Deng Lijun followed, placing the fruits she brought on the coffee table. "This is extravagant. I haven't eaten today, just waiting to eat here."
Ji Yunli poured water for both, smiling. "Sit down. It's fresh out of the kitchen, still hot."
Fatty took the first bite of braised pig ear. His eyes widened, and he mumbled incoherently, "My God! So good! Chen, when did you get so good at cooking? Better than a five-star chef!"
"Have you eaten at a five-star hotel?" Deng Lijun raised an eyebrow.
"No, but I can tell!" Fatty craned his neck, grabbing another piece of braised pork. "It melts in your mouth, not greasy at all. Amazing!"
Deng Lijun skeptically tried a piece, but the aroma filled her mouth instantly—fat but not greasy, lean but not dry. The sauce wrapped the meat's flavor perfectly.
She gasped, "My goodness! This is too delicious! Chen, where did you get this meat? I need to buy some too!"
Ji Yunli picked up a piece and chewed slowly, her expression one of delight. After years of eating Chen Chen's cooking, she had never tasted anything like this—not because he had suddenly become a master chef, but because the meat itself was exceptional.
"Stop praising, eat more," Chen Chen said, serving everyone while taking a piece of pig trotter himself. The trotters were tender and flavorful, easily pulling away from the bones. The soybeans absorbed the meat's aroma. Every bite warmed him to the core.
By the end of the meal, all four were stuffed. Fatty collapsed onto the sofa, patting his belly. "Chen, your house is my cafeteria from now on. I'll come every day!"
Deng Lijun nodded. "Same here. I'd come daily for food this good."
Ji Yunli smiled. "You're both welcome, but Chen will be tired."
After cleaning up, Fatty and Deng Lijun left, burping along the way.
Only Chen Chen and Ji Yunli remained. She leaned against him, while a boring variety show played on TV—they weren't paying attention.
"Tell me, how should we sell this pork?" Ji Yunli asked softly.
With excellent test results and delicious meat, they couldn't eat it all themselves. They needed a way to make money. Their savings were limited—Ji Yunli had little from her job at the clothing store, and Chen Chen had saved almost nothing. If they could profit from this meat, life would be easier.
Chen Chen stroked his chin thoughtfully. "If we sell raw pork, we could charge more than market price. But there are already a dozen pork stalls in the neighborhood market. Most buyers are elderly—they'd think it's expensive and might not buy."
"Then… what about making cooked products?" Ji Yunli's eyes lit up. "Like buns or meat pies. We can bring out the aroma of the meat. Even if it costs more, people would pay."
"Buns?" Chen Chen paused, then nodded. "Not a bad idea. Can you make them?"
"Of course!" Ji Yunli sat up straight, confidence shining in her eyes. "My family ran a breakfast shop. Mom taught me how to stir-fry fillings and make buns. I'm good at it."
"Perfect. I'll learn too, though not as skilled as you. I'll practice," Chen Chen said, already planning. "Tomorrow, I'll buy a second-hand food cart to test the waters. We'll also need steamers, disposable bags, and QR codes for payments."
"Price?" Ji Yunli asked. "These buns are premium. Maybe five yuan? Ten?"
"Let's try five first," Chen Chen said. "Ten's too high; people might not buy. Once we build a reputation, we can raise it."
"And the location?" Ji Yunli asked. "Not many people at our building's entrance. Maybe near my clothing store? That area has mid-to-high-end apartments, good purchasing power, and few breakfast stalls. Should get business."
Chen Chen nodded. "Okay. Tomorrow, I'll buy the cart. The day after, we'll test it out."
Ji Yunli took out her phone to transfer money. "I'll give you some for buying supplies."
"No need, I have savings. I'll tell you if it's not enough," Chen Chen said, holding her hand. "Your husband's not at the point of needing to be supported yet."
Seeing his resolve, Ji Yunli let it go, leaning in and whispering, "Don't overwork. Tell me if you need help."
"I know," Chen Chen said, kissing her forehead, feeling warm inside.
They chatted further about the bun fillings—scallion pork, cabbage pork, and bean sprout pork—before both growing sleepy. After washing up, they went to bed early.
The next morning, Ji Yunli went to her early shift as usual. She had recently switched schedules with a colleague, starting the evening shift tomorrow. This way, she could shop and prep ingredients after work, ready to help make buns the next morning.
Chen Chen watched her leave, then drove off to find a second-hand food cart.
After wandering through a suburban second-hand market, he spent 1,800 yuan on an electric three-wheeled cart. Stainless steel, almost new, though without a stove. He then bought a gas burner, two large steamers, a gas tank, a table, several stools, disposable bowls, and plastic bags—spending nearly another thousand yuan.
By the time he loaded everything onto the cart, it was already afternoon.
Chen Chen returned home, cleaned the van, secured the steamers, and finally paused for a breath after seven in the evening.
"How's it going? Did you get everything?" Ji Yunli asked, walking in with vegetables and fried noodles for tomorrow.
"All done, just a bit tired," Chen Chen said, wolfing down noodles—he hadn't eaten all day.
Worried, Ji Yunli said, "Eat slowly, don't choke. I'll help mix fillings in the morning while you assist."
"Alright," Chen Chen mumbled, mouth full of noodles.
After finishing, he checked the cart once more. Satisfied everything was ready, he washed his hands.
Lying in bed, he thought about starting bun sales the next day. He felt a mix of excitement and nerves.
(Note: Please ignore any quarantine stamps from the otherworldly pork.)