Chương 40: The Corner of the Factory Canteen: Dig!

Zhang Shufen drank twice a day, ate meat every day, had filial children and grandchildren, and a harmonious daughter-in-law—she lived the life that all the old ladies in Zhou Village envied. But she also had her troubles. Her youngest son was born the year her father sacrificed his life. She named him Weiguo (meaning "Guardian of the Nation") so that her children would remember why their father had died.

Zhou Weiguo was smart and athletic from a young age, always bringing home a stack of certificates at school sports meets. Many girls liked him, and his schoolbag was often filled with love letters written in childlike handwriting. At eighteen, he enlisted in the army. His certificates turned into commendations and awards, and he received awards almost every year for participating in rescue operations and winning competitions, rising all the way to the rank of company commander, the same level as his father.

Most of his military stipend was sent back home, which she saved. Until that year, a telegram came from the town. When she saw him again, he had lost an arm and was lame. County leaders came, and villagers lined the streets to welcome their war hero home. People from all around came to see him. The scene made her feel a little dazed; it reminded her of the same lively occasion when her husband returned home that year. She wanted to cry, but instead, she smiled.

Her son was a hero just like his father, but this time, he had returned alive. The organization took him very seriously, offering him a job and a monthly disability allowance. But Zhou Weiguo, being the stubborn man he was, insisted on returning home to farm, saying he didn't want to be a burden on the country. Four years passed in a flash. He had indeed managed to cultivate their small vegetable patch quite well with just one hand, the vegetables growing better than others.

In the past two years, they had arranged blind dates for him, but the girls, upon seeing his missing arm and limp, a frightening scar on his face, and his lack of a proper job, immediately ran away. Zhou Weiguo became the subject of ridicule in the village, called stubborn, a good-for-nothing, and a treasure. At thirty-four, he was already considered an old bachelor in the countryside. The old lady was worried.

She had tried everything—kind words, harsh words—and the organization visited him every holiday to persuade him, but nothing worked. Unexpectedly, Zhou Yan had actually convinced him today.

"I never noticed before, this kid's quite the talker," the old lady muttered to herself, her face full of relief. Before Zhou Momo was born, Zhou Yan was the youngest of the grandchildren. When he was little, his parents were busy, so he liked to come over for meals. She didn't care if Zhou Weiguo really went to work, whether he became an official or not; as long as he could make a living and live a meaningful life, she would be content.

Besides, if a girl was interested in him after he started working, she wouldn't have to worry anymore. Zhou Yan and Zhou Weiguo chatted at the door for a while. He gave a simple description of the future world, packaging it as knowledge he'd read in books, making Zhou Weiguo's eyes light up.

"What difference is there between a great man who lives a life of mediocrity and rotten wood and decaying grass?" Zhou Weiguo slammed his hand on the persimmon tree, his gaze resolute.

"Alright, I'll go to the personnel bureau tomorrow." At that moment, Zhou Yan saw the shadow of the eighteen-year-old boy in him again. No, he had grown even taller.

"Then I'll go with you tomorrow, Uncle. I'll pick you up," Zhou Yan said, standing up.

"No need, I'll borrow a bicycle and go by myself." Zhou Weiguo also stood up, smiling as he patted Zhou Yan's shoulder.

"If you need someone to accompany you for such a small thing, what can I do? You just focus on the restaurant business; I might even have lunch at your place."

"Okay." Zhou Yan nodded, pulling out a wad of ten-yuan notes from his pocket and handing it to Zhou Weiguo.

"Uncle, this is the hundred yuan I borrowed from you before. Here you go." Zhou Weiguo smiled as he took it, stuffing it into his pocket without counting it, and said to him, "Come find me when you need money. I'm keeping this for you."

"Then I won't be polite," Zhou Yan smiled as well. Zhou Yan sat for a while longer before saying he had to go back to the shop.

"Aren't you going back for dinner? I was thinking of killing a chicken for tonight," the old lady said, emerging from the chicken coop with a large, glossy rooster in her hand.

"I need to go back and work on a new menu. We can save it for next time," Zhou Yan said with a smile.

"Sure," the old lady said, tossing the rooster back into the coop and going into the main room to retrieve half a bag of oranges.

"Here you go. This is a list of spices and bones needed for the braising liquid. Come pick me up when you've prepared it," the old lady said, handing Zhou Yan a piece of paper filled with various spices and their quantities—more than twenty kinds.

"Sure," Zhou Yan said, carefully folding the paper and putting it in his pocket, taking the oranges.

"I'll come and invite you when I've prepared it."

"Go ahead, let Momo play here. Have dinner, then have Weiguo take her home," the old lady said with a smile.

"Okay," Zhou Yan replied, getting on his bike and leaving. He went home first. Old Zhou was in the yard, bending embroidery needles to make fishhooks. He glanced up at Zhou Yan and then at the doorway.

"Where's Momo?" This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

"She's with Grandma. My uncle brought her back after dinner." Zhou Yan leaned closer, watching him carefully heat the needles until they were red-hot before bending them. Two finished products were already on the ground, and several more were broken.

"Old man, aren't you afraid my mom will beat you if she sees this? You've bent an entire box of needles like this." Zhou Yan laughed. He wouldn't dare do something that would get him a beating from his mother.

"Beating her? She wouldn't dare." Old Zhou continued bending needles, unconcerned.

"This box is new; she has no idea."

"Where's my mom?" Zhou Yan looked around. The main room was quiet. Their house was a single-story building with a small yard enclosed by a fence. The ground was paved with stones Old Zhou had collected from the river. There was a grapevine by the door, and the leaves were already starting to fall. A main room, two bedrooms, and a latrine in the corner. The mud walls, weathered and worn, were spotless, and the yard was free of even a single fallen leaf.

"The neighbor's playing mahjong for a penny. She only gets one day off a week; she needs to relax," Zhou Miao replied.

"Okay, then I'll head back to the shop." Zhou Yan placed the oranges on the stool and turned to leave.

"Aren't you eating at home tonight?"

"No, I'm planning to start selling braised and stir-fried dishes next week. I'll get the menu ready today, get everything prepared, and tomorrow's going to be a whirlwind of activity." Zhou Yan replied and went straight out.

"Stir-fried dishes? Braised dishes?" Old Zhou looked up; Zhou Yan had already ridden away. On the way back, Zhou Yan's mind was filled with thoughts of how to price the dishes. A serving of braised beef with dried bamboo shoots required three ounces of beef, and at one yuan and fifty cents a pound, that was the cost price his father had given him. The latest novels are first published on 69shuba! Braised pork ribs and minced beef both require about 3 ounces of meat, with pork ribs costing even more, at 1.

8 yuan per pound. The meat alone costs 45 to 54 cents per dish. Add to that the cost of side dishes, oil, seasonings, firewood, wear and tear on various utensils, and labor, and another 20 to 30 cents. Roughly calculated, braised beef and minced beef with green and red peppers cost about 65 cents, while braised pork ribs can reach 75 cents. Crucian carp costs 45 cents per pound, and a serving of crucian carp with mint requires two fish weighing about 8 ounces each.

Cooking the fish uses a lot of oil and seasonings; at 30 cents per pound, the total cost is about 1 yuan. Zhou Yan thought of the restaurant's original menu: Garlic Pork Belly 3. 5 cents, Salted Braised Pork Belly 4. 5 cents, Twice-Cooked Pork 6 cents, Dongpo Pork Knuckle 1. 2 yuan... There was a reason why Comrade Zhou had bankrupted the restaurant. This menu was modeled after the factory canteen. It seemed fine at first glance, but it was full of traps.

The factory canteen could get the best and freshest ingredients from the supply and marketing cooperative, and the price was almost half off with the coupons. The canteen could get pork belly for 1 yuan per jin, while Zhou Yan would have to pay 1. 8 or even 2 yuan. Moreover, the factory canteen also gave the workers meal coupons, so the prices were already cheaper than state-run restaurants and private restaurants.

To insist on matching the factory canteen's prices, or even being cheaper, would be a miracle if they didn't lose money. Beef with dried bamboo shoots and minced beef with double peppers were 1 yuan per serving, and braised pork ribs were 1. 2 yuan per serving. The dish of crucian carp with mint was complicated to make, and the loss of crucian carp had to be taken into account, so it was priced at 2 yuan per serving.

There are no cucumbers this season, otherwise, cucumber salad could be added to the menu to make up the numbers. The prices are a third higher than the stir-fries in the factory canteen; for example, braised crucian carp in the canteen costs 1. 5 yuan a serving. There's no other way; Zhou Yan needs to make money running his restaurant, so there has to be a profit margin. Besides, if cheap food could retain customers, Zhou Yan wouldn't have been running an empty shop every day.

Taste is the premium a dish can command, something that diners appreciate. Zhou Yan is quite confident about this. The Sichuan Fine Arts Institute students have generated buzz for Zhou Erwa's restaurant, and Zhou Yan estimates that many workers will come tomorrow to see what magic this little restaurant has. He definitely can't miss this surge of traffic.

Moreover, recently, many customers have been urging him to quickly add stir-fries and braised dishes, even just a few noodle toppings would be fine, as some people genuinely don't like noodles. He just happened to learn how to make crucian carp with mint, and with some braised beef, the menu now has four dishes and a soup. The target audience is the core customers of the factory canteen's stir-fries. He was incredibly motivated to dig into the corner of the factory canteen wall. He'd get started tomorrow!

Zhou Yan rode his bike back to the restaurant and found someone standing at the entrance.

"Uncle Lin, what are you doing here?" Zhou Yan braked, looking at Lin Zhiqiang with some surprise.

"I was wondering why you weren't here," Lin Zhiqiang said with a smile.

"Little Zhou, I'm planning to treat some people to a meal at your restaurant tomorrow. Besides noodles, do you have any other signature dishes?"