Father Wen let out a cry of surprise. “You want to hand out business cards at the library?”
Mother Wen stood tall, her chest puffed out with confidence. “There are so many kids there, and parents might not feel safe letting them eat just any random takeout every day. I’ve thought it through—we aren’t looking for a long-term business; we’ll just do it for the summer break.”
She took out a calculator and started tapping away. “We won’t sell it for much—twelve yuan per meal, delivery included. Tomorrow I’ll buy some high-quality disposable lunch boxes. Two meat dishes, two vegetable dishes. I’ll start a group chat ahead of time and post the menu for the next day…”
Looking at his wife, who was becoming increasingly worked up as she spoke, Father Wen stammered, “Will this… actually work?”
“Why wouldn’t it?” Mother Wen retorted.
If it were before, she might have been a bit intimidated, but with her daughter’s skills, who could possibly say no after tasting the food? The only difficulty was that parents might not trust them enough, but that didn’t matter. As long as they got their first customer, Mother Wen was confident she could break into the market.
“Tomorrow morning, I’m going to the library to hand out cards!”
…
Early the next morning, Mother Wen changed into clean clothes and practiced her smile in the mirror several times. Despite her bold words, she still felt a bit uncertain.
However, she had an intuition that this opportunity was a gift from her daughter. Recalling their conversation from the night before, she realized that Wen Fan bringing up the library was likely a subtle hint.
Mother Wen thought to herself that she should set a good example for her child. Her daughter was so sensible and considerate; as parents, they couldn’t just let the child carry them along. Wouldn’t that make them a burden?
She cheered herself up. No matter what, as long as she secured the first customer today, it would be a victory!
Breakfast was dough drop soup made by Father Wen. Mother Wen ate a large bowl before heading out, looking like a soldier going to war.
Wen Fan ate a small bowl, her mind constantly revolving around what else she could add to the soup to improve the flavor.
After breakfast, Father Wen pedaled the tricycle to take Wen Fan to the vegetable market.
Wen Fan had been to the morning market before, but once they arrived at the large wholesale market, she realized the morning market was tiny in comparison.
The results of large-scale industrial farming and the industrial sector’s support of agriculture unfolded before her eyes. Wen Fan stared wide-eyed at the mountains of various vegetables.
Father Wen parked the tricycle by the side of the road and smiled. “Big place, isn’t it? When your mom and I first started coming here, we almost got lost several times.”
As the largest vegetable market in the city, there weren’t just fruits and vegetables; there were even two buildings dedicated solely to frozen goods.
Father Wen led Wen Fan past a crowd of shouting vendors, pointing toward the rows of large blue trucks.
“That’s where the real bargains are.”
The signs hanging on the trucks were, without exception, incredibly cheap.
“Green vegetables, 0.1 yuan per catty,” “Beans, 0.5 yuan per catty,” “Eggplant, 0.3 yuan per catty”…
Wen Fan had previously tried to convert the value of this society’s currency. She had estimated that based on current rates, one tael of silver would be equivalent to about two thousand yuan in purchasing power. But seeing these mountains of fruits and vegetables, she felt her conversion was wrong.
It was too cheap!
Her old professional habits kicked in. Pointing at all the eggplants on one truck, she almost said, “I’ll take them all.”
Fortunately, Father Wen pulled her aside. “We can’t buy that many.”
Even though the vegetables from these large trucks were cheap, they weren’t sold individually. Usually, several small vendors would agree to split a truckload.
Father Wen led his daughter through a maze of paths to the gathering place for smaller vendors, where there were mostly small trucks.
Wen Fan picked through the quality and eventually had Father Wen buy a large bag of eggplants, several handfuls of long beans, and various mushrooms and greens.
After picking the vegetables, they moved on to the meat. Father Wen didn’t choose frozen meat like others; instead, he took his daughter to a dedicated meat stall.
Under Wen Fan’s direction, Father Wen bought about ten catties of pork belly and a pig trotter.
“We’ll eat these ourselves at noon.”
Cooks fall into two categories: those who are so fed up with their work that they wouldn’t dream of touching a kitchen tool after hours, and those who genuinely love cooking and enjoy treating themselves to something delicious even when exhausted.
Wen Fan was the latter. Thinking about how she had been making do with meals these past few days, she decided to stew something good for the family at lunch.
The small tricycle was packed full. Wen Fan sat on a small stool, buried under plastic bags of vegetables.
She didn’t find it hard or embarrassing. Since the morning air was cool, she pulled out a vocabulary book from her pocket.
Memorize, memorize, memorize.
Wen Fan could already foresee that her grades wouldn’t look good once school started. Even though she attended a private school, academic performance was highly valued.
There were two types of students in such schools: those who paid their way in and those with good grades who received tuition waivers. However, these waivers only lasted for the first year of high school. If grades slipped in the second year, students would be relegated to the regular classes, where the fees were, naturally, higher.
Wen Fan was worried. She could self-study the humanities, but what about the sciences? Just thinking about the “heavenly” symbols in the math textbook gave her a splitting headache.
Father Wen, hearing his daughter reciting in the back, didn’t even dare to pedal too fast. He rode in silence, thinking that he really needed to make more money. At the very least…
At least they should have a car.
…
After handing out the business cards, Mother Wen rushed to buy some lunch boxes and disposable chopsticks. She then found a familiar shop and bought twenty claypots similar to the ones they used in the shop.
By the time she returned to the shop, she had already received two friend requests on her phone.
One was noted as “Zihan’s Mom” and the other as “Zhuangzhuang’s Grandma.”
Mother Wen quickly accepted them. After a brief conversation, she rushed into the kitchen.
“I need to take a photo!”
Parents choosing to order meals would naturally be most concerned about hygiene. Mother Wen took photos of the stove and utensils from every angle, and then sent over the shop’s address and storefront.
Finally, Zihan’s Mom sent a twelve-yuan red envelope along with a voice message.
“Great, please deliver the meal to the corner of the second floor of the library at noon. I’ll have my child go out to collect it then.”
The other one, Zhuangzhuang’s Grandma, wasn’t as smooth.
The elderly woman was silent for a long time before sending a sixty-second voice message.
Mother Wen tapped it, and her brow gradually furrowed.
The woman’s words were full of nitpicking. One moment she said the shop was too small, the next she said she wanted to see today’s dishes, and finally, she demanded that they send her the inspection reports for the shop’s vegetables every day.
“This is food for children, and we only have one precious grandchild. Who knows if your hygiene is up to standard?”
Mother Wen replied with a sigh, “We understand your concerns, but we really can’t provide inspection reports.”
The woman seemed displeased and sent another long voice message. This time, Mother Wen understood: the woman said she had discussed it with the child’s parents and wanted to “evaluate” them first.
“Deliver today’s meal to the reading room on the first floor. We’ll let the child try it and see.”
She didn’t mention a word about transferring the payment.
Mother Wen was so angry she laughed. She simply ignored her.
“Whatever, at least I have one order today.”
As long as there was one order, Mother Wen felt the morning’s work wasn’t in vain.
Wen Fan didn’t help with the preparation of the ingredients in the morning. She sat at a table by the door with her books, doing her homework first and then memorizing vocabulary. Since she really didn’t understand the math, she went home to find her old middle school textbooks.
Finally, there was a glimmer of hope; she could just barely understand middle school math.
And so, Wen Fan sat reading while listening to her parents busily moving about.
After the initial brief adjustment period, Wen Fan felt that staying in the shop wasn’t bad.
The landlord, Yang Hong, had rushed over to deliver the air conditioner that morning. There was already a pre-existing vent for it in the kitchen, so it was installed in just ten minutes.
Wen Fan would read for a while, get up to stretch when she was tired, check the kitchen when she wanted a mental break, and grab a drink from the fridge whenever she was thirsty…
“Xiao Fan! How many bottles of Coke have you had this morning?!”
Mother Wen, after a busy round of work, suddenly noticed that only seven of the ten bottles of Coke she had put in the fridge that morning were left.
She looked at her daughter, who was walking toward the fridge with complete naturalness, reaching for the Coke.
Come to think of it…
This girl seemed to be drinking Coke or orange juice whenever she wasn’t busy.
Wen Fan, feeling a bit guilty, hid the bottle behind her back. “I haven’t.”
Mother Wen walked over and gave the backpack a shake. Clatter.
Two empty bottles fell out.
Wen Fan: “…”
By the time Father Wen called his daughter to the kitchen to stir-fry, he noticed she was looking rather wilted.
“What’s wrong?”
Wen Fan was listless and didn’t even want to speak.
Mother Wen: “Ignore her. She’s a grown-up, yet she loves Coke like a child.”
Three bottles in one morning! Mother Wen hadn’t been paying attention yesterday, so who knows how many she had then? If she kept drinking like this, she’d lose her teeth!
Wen Fan gave her mother a pitiful look, but seeing her mother’s stern face, she could only silently go to cook.
Father Wen said sympathetically, “Let her have a little if she likes it. It’s such a hot day…”
Mother Wen silenced him with a single glare.
Wen Fan: …What a useless father.
She looked up at her fierce mother and gave a sweet, flattering smile.
…
Since there was only one meal to deliver at noon, Wen Fan didn’t make a fuss. She simply prepared a portion of whatever the family was having to send to the child at the library.
Fresh pork belly was sliced thin. A layer of oil was left in the pan to render the fat from the pork. Long beans were cut into finger-length pieces and fried in the pork fat until the skin wrinkled. Then, long strips of eggplant were added, along with various seasonings, and everything was stir-fried evenly. Just before taking it off the heat, a spoonful of hot oil was added—it was fragrant and the colors were vibrant.
The pig trotter was chopped into small pieces. After removing the gaminess, it was stir-fried with sugar for color. A handful of spices was added until the gamy smell vanished completely. Then, hot water was added to the pot, the heat was turned from high to low, and it was stewed for an hour. When the claypot lid was lifted, peanuts and soybeans were added, and it was simmered on low heat until the aroma of the pig trotter was released. This bold, purely meaty fragrance was different from yesterday’s claypot rice; it was hard for anyone to resist such a rich scent.
However, since they had only bought one pig trotter today, Mother Wen had to explain to everyone at the front.
“It’s not for sale. It’s for our family.”
“It’s not about the money.”
Once the pig trotter was stewed until the skin was tender and the meat was soft, Wen Fan quickly stir-fried two vegetable dishes and placed them in the lunch box.
“Ready!”
Mother Wen hurriedly got on her electric scooter to deliver the meal to the library.
Seeing Mother Wen leave, the customers, though disappointed, began to choose claypot rice.
“One order of pork rib rice.”
Wen Fan pointed toward the wall with an embarrassed look.
The customer, who had eaten there twice yesterday, was confused. But once they saw the new menu posted on the wall, they fell silent.
There, in bold letters, it said: [Claypot Rice — 25 yuan per serving].
The price had gone up.
But whether to eat it or not didn’t seem like a difficult choice.
Wen Fan explained in a small voice, “My dad works very hard on it.”
Claypot rice was something made in batches of several pots. Father Wen didn’t have that skill yet, so he did it one pot at a time. Since it was so time-consuming, Wen Fan didn’t think it was wrong to charge a bit more.
The customer gritted their teeth. “I’ll take one!”
After that customer, more began to trickle in.
However, Wen Fan sat behind the counter and stopped recommending the claypot rice to new arrivals.
“We can’t keep up with the orders.”
At best, Father Wen could make four portions an hour—eight for the whole lunch period.
Wu Na, who had finally worked up the courage to come out and eat, wailed, “No!”
She was a loyal fan of the Wen family restaurant’s pickles. Yesterday, when she saw they had added claypot rice, she had quickly placed an order. After eating it, she had written a long, glowing review on the delivery platform.
The only slight drawback was that the rice crust had softened in the delivery box. So, she had mentally prepared herself today to brave the scorching sun and eat at the shop.
But the shop said they couldn’t make it! Wu Na felt completely defeated.
Wen Fan still remembered her. On her first day watching the shop, this girl had come in to ask for cold skin noodles.
She smiled and said, “We have minced pork with eggplant today, and stir-fried pork with peppers.”
These were quick dishes. Wen Fan had only spent half an hour preparing the toppings. The shop continued its previous practice of offering a choice between rice or noodles.
Wu Na said dejectedly, “Then I’ll have the minced pork with eggplant rice.”
Losing out on the claypot rice made Wu Na feel as though she had bad luck today.
Wen Fan acknowledged the order and soon brought out a plate of rice with toppings, gently placing it in front of Wu Na.
“Enjoy.”
The savory-colored eggplant was evenly interspersed with fine minced pork. The glossy, enticing topping covered the rice, which had absorbed the dark color of the eggplant sauce. The thick sauce not only coated the eggplant but was gradually expanding its territory. A touch of emerald-green chopped onions was sprinkled on top. Both in color and aroma, the dish practically had the words “good with rice” written all over it.
Wu Na put her chopsticks aside and pressed down with a large spoon. A full spoonful of rice mixed with eggplant and minced pork tasted so delicious it almost brought tears to her eyes.
Mom, I’ve found the rice with toppings of my life.