Chương 42: Can Anyone Set Up a Stall Now?

Zhao Tieying's words amused Zhou Yan and Zhao Hong.

"Fourth Aunt, Uncle!" Zhou Lihui, carrying his schoolbag, stood ramrod straight and greeted them with a憨笑 (a simple, honest smile).

"Huihui, you're up early again," Zhou Yan said with a smile.

"He's been reciting his lessons all day. It's the first time I've seen him study so proactively, saying he wants to recognize all the characters," Zhao Hong said with satisfaction. Zhou Yan nodded upon hearing this, "That's the kind of drive you should have."

"Yes," Zhou Lihui nodded vigorously. Zhou Liangliang wasn't afraid of Zhou Yan, but he still felt a little intimidated by Zhao Tieying. He looked up and unfortunately met her gaze, so he could only force a smile and say, "Aunt Zhao, you're here early."

"I'm not early, but you two have a keen sense of smell; you came as soon as you smelled it," Zhao Tieying said with a forced smile. Zhou Liangliang's mother, Gao Cuihua, was the village women's director. A couple of years ago, she had argued with Gao Cuihua over Zhou Momo's household registration; Gao Cuihua was Gao Cuihua's easily defeated opponent. Zhou Liangliang gave an awkward, silly smile, not daring to reply. He was too weak-willed; he knew he couldn't possibly beat Zhao Tieying, that cunning old woman.

Seeing that he didn't even dare to speak, Zhao Tieying looked away, bored. Zhou Yan scooped Zhou Momo out of the basket and gently placed her on the bed. The little one, like a caterpillar, immediately snuggled under the covers and continued to snore. Zhou Yan tucked her in and turned to go downstairs. At the restaurant entrance, Zhou Jie parked his bicycle on the side of the road, locked it, and glanced at the stalls across the street, somewhat surprised.

"Zhou Liangliang? Why did they move their stall here?"

"They moved here yesterday," Zhou Yan said with a smile.

"They probably think it'll be easier to do business next to me."

"That bastard has a thick skin. He insisted on setting up his stall next to me because he saw my business was good. Now that he sees your business is good, he's moved across from you. Does he think we brothers are easy to bully?" Zhou Jie's face darkened, and he rolled up his sleeves, ready to walk across the street.

"Garlic bird, garlic bird, it's not easy for anyone." Zhou Yan quickly pulled him back.

"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 only sells a dozen or twenty bowls a day. If he sets up across from me, his business definitely won't be much better." Zhou Yan said with a smile,"That couple isn't the type to work hard. They haven't even figured out how to make soup pot properly, and now they want to sell noodles. Taking too big a step will backfire." 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 Qiaojiao Beef."

"Qiaojiao Beef? Isn't it a soup pot?"

"A soup pot isn't catchy enough, so I used the name Qiaojiao Beef that the older generation used." Zhou Yan showed Zhou Jie the signboard in front of the earthen stove and the brand's story. Zhou Jie nodded repeatedly after reading it,"It looks more upscale than a soup pot. You're so smart."

"Come on, today I'll teach you how to make it." Zhou Yan walked into the shop.

"Fourth Aunt, Sister-in-law." Zhou Jie greeted them as he entered, then looked at Zhou Lihui standing to the side with some surprise.

"Eh? What's Huihui doing in the shop?"

"Third Uncle, I'm here to learn cooking from my uncle." Zhou Lihui replied.

"Aren't you only in your third year of junior high? Aren't you going to drop out of school?" Zhou Jie asked, puzzled.

"I still have to study. I come with my sister-in-law to help out in the morning until 7: 30, then I go to school." Zhou Yan explained for him, "He wants to be a chef, so I'm letting him experience it first."

"Learning cooking from your uncle is great! Your uncle is very skilled. I'm here today to become his apprentice." Zhou Jie smiled and put his arm around Zhou Lihui's shoulder. The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

"From now on, we'll be fellow apprentices."" Then... will you call me senior brother? And I'll call you third uncle?" Zhou Lihui asked expectantly.

"You really dare to think like that. You should just call me senior brother." Zhou Jie gently patted his head. Everyone laughed, and the atmosphere became relaxed and pleasant.

"Come on, Brother Jie, let's start by talking about making broth today." Zhou Yan smiled and beckoned Zhou Jie over, then said to Zhou Lihui,"Huihui, this morning you'll be in charge of fetching water and filling this pot to the brim."

"Okay, Master Zhou," Zhou Jie replied with a smile.

"Okay! Master Zhou!" Zhou Lihui also turned and walked towards the kitchen. Zhou Yan started by explaining how to arrange the bones in the pot, how many bones to use for a pot of soup, which parts of the bones to use, the amount, the selection of offal... He explained everything in great detail. Zhou Jie held a small notebook and wrote down all the key points Zhou Yan mentioned. He had been making soup pots for two years, and what Zhou Yan said was actually quite similar.

But the difference between a good chef and an ordinary chef lay in that similarity, a principle Zhou Jie understood very well. His soup pots stood out among so many stalls at the dock because of the subtle differences he had painstakingly researched; these subtle differences determined the taste of a pot of soup. Even a slight difference in the amount of spices made a completely different taste. Zhou Lihui carried bucket after bucket of water into the pot, working very hard.

Although only fifteen years old, he possessed inexhaustible strength, able to lift two buckets of water in one go—a talent inherited from his family.

"These are the spices, and also these kinds of Chinese herbs..." Zhou Yan held a small scale, weighing the ingredients and stuffing them into a gauze bag.

"The dosage must be precise; too little and it won't be effective, too much and the flavor will be too strong, turning the soup into medicine, undrinkable."

"With so many kinds of Chinese herbs, the cost must be high, right?" Zhou Jie asked, somewhat surprised.

"If it were the same as other soup pots sold elsewhere, I wouldn't dare sell it for six cents," Zhou Yan laughed.

"It's definitely packed with good stuff," Zhou Jie nodded, carefully noting down the amounts of various spices and herbs.

"Don't let the fire get too high at the beginning. 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. It will look and taste delicious, fresh without any gamey smell." Zhou Yan handed the strainer to Zhou Jie.

"Next, just watch the pot and slowly skim it off. Just simmer it over low heat. Let my mom explain the precautions to you." Zhou Yan asked Aunt Zhao to tutor him while he went into the kitchen to start cooking the toppings and stir-frying the meat sauce. Zhou Lihui became his little assistant, taking on odd jobs like washing vegetables and tending the fire.

He was supposed to start by practicing knife skills, but the restaurant didn't have enough ingredients for him to practice with, so they had to put that aside for now. The young man didn't complain at all. He sat in front of the stove, his gaze as determined as if he were preparing for graduate school entrance exams. Watching this scene, Zhao Hong smiled and went to chat with Zhao Tieying at the door. Around seven o'clock, workers began to arrive for work.

Zhou Yan placed the notice he had written yesterday in a prominent position at the door, informing everyone in advance: starting today, Zhou Erwa Restaurant will only serve noodles in the morning, and only stir-fried dishes for lunch and dinner. Across the street, Zhou Liangliang and his wife also started shouting at the top of their lungs: "Noodles for sale! Noodles for sale! Five cents a bowl! Only five cents a bowl!"

"They're really cheap, a cent cheaper than us, and they're still shouting loudly." Zhou Jie pouted, his teeth itching with anger. Zhao Tieying remained calm: "Don't worry, Wang Laowu is in jail. This stall has bad feng shui; it won't do any good."

The aftershocks of the Sichuan Fine Arts Institute students eating two meals in a row hadn't subsided, and many workers who hadn't had noodles the day before yesterday were determined to try them this morning, eager to see just how delicious Zhou Erwa's noodles were that even the Sichuan Fine Arts Institute students raved about them. Zhou Liangliang's shout also attracted the attention of some workers.

"Zhou Liangliang's soup pot and noodles? Is this some kind of internal competition in Zhoucun?"

"He took over Wang Laowu's noodle stall to sell noodles; is he going to compete with Zhou Yan? I wonder how good his cooking is?"

"Is that the soup pot stewing in that pot Zhoucun's style? It's a dime cheaper than Zhou Erwa's restaurant, but a regular Zhoucun soup pot only costs three cents, right?" Curiosity naturally drew people over to take a look. Zhou Liangliang and Wu Guihua quickly put on smiles, secretly delighted. Business was easy at the textile factory gate; a bowl of noodles for five cents could attract so many workers with just a shout, and they could all afford it. As soon as they approached, the workers frowned.

A strong, unpleasant smell of uncooked beef offal wafted from the soup pot with the steam, hitting the viewer and causing them to pause. Looking at the bowls of toppings in front of the noodle pot, the minced meat was dry and mushy, lacking any oiliness. The braised beef was misshapen and mushy in the bowl, clearly overcooked. The chicken giblets were the wrong color, pale and unappetizing.

"What kind of toppings and sauces are these? My grandma can cook better than this, not even Wang Laowu!"

"Are just any person allowed to set up a stall these days?"

"Selling this for 50 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 was only one group of noodle lovers, and they had certain standards. Zhou Liangliang and Wu Guihua's smiles froze, their faces filled with confusion, bewilderment, and resentment as they watched the customers head straight for Zhou Erwa's restaurant. Of course, their smiles didn't disappear completely.

The attention shifted to Zhao Tieying and Zhou Jie's faces.

"My darlings, come in and have a seat. The pickled radishes today are absolutely delicious..." Aunt Zhao greeted the guests with a beaming smile.