12
The First Ten-Year Plan (Catching Bugs): Building the Kingdom of Marinated Dishes
The early morning laboratory explosion had startled everyone in the research institute.
Fortunately, the institute had an infirmary, and Sister Miao and others knew some first aid. Otherwise, with that guy’s artery cut, he might have kicked the bucket before even making it to the hospital.
But every cloud has a silver lining. Having suffered such a serious injury, even Sister Miao felt too embarrassed to make Wang Xiao take over his position. Thus, he kept his job, and Wang Xiao could continue hiding in the warehouse to avoid experiments.
No, no, she still needed to escape quickly. Otherwise, one day she might be the one with a cut artery.
Finally making it to the end of the workday, Wang Xiao didn’t dare delay even half a minute. She immediately grabbed her bag and dragged her suitcase to flee.
As she ran, she grew worried again. She didn’t know how to get from the research institute to the steel mill residential area. She couldn’t even remember which building her home was in.
Wang Xiao pondered how to discreetly ask someone for directions to the bus.
Maybe she could lie and say she wanted to go to the Civic Park first, then pretend not to know how to take the bus home from there, claiming she heard the bus routes had changed?
But when she looked up, she spotted two familiar faces outside the institute’s main gate.
Wang Tiejun and Chen Yanqiu were standing on tiptoe, peering inside.
As soon as he saw his daughter, Wang Tiejun hurried forward to take her suitcase. He even reached for the small bag she was carrying, afraid his daughter might be tired.
This made Wang Xiao extremely uncomfortable. She really wasn’t used to such enthusiastic care from male elders. With Chen Yanqiu, she could at least relate to some of Grandma’s feelings and directly cling to her arm while acting cute: “Mom, why did you and Dad come?”
As soon as the words left her mouth, she realized, “Oh, you were afraid Ruan Rui would come cause trouble for me? No, no, I secretly asked around. Nobody at the institute has seen him show up.”
This showed Ruan Rui truly didn’t like the original host. His heart still belonged to his white moonlight ex-wife, so he couldn’t even be bothered to come suck her blood.
Chen Yanqiu shot her daughter an exasperated look: “I know.”
Actually, she had felt utterly humiliated on the wedding day. She had prepared to act high and mighty, ready to thoroughly insult that shameless Chaiba dang.
But Ruan Rui didn’t even give her the chance to perform. He just said: “Not getting married? Fine, just don’t regret it later!”With that, he turned and left, more carefree than a carefree stroll.”
He made it seem like their family was climbing social ladder by desperately clinging to the Ruan family.
But to be honest behind closed doors, it was indeed the woman’s side desperately clinging. Now Chen Yanqiu brought her husband to pick up their daughter because she was afraid this muddle-headed girl might do something stupid – like going to the Ruan family to be an unpaid maid and cohabitate illegally after the failed marriage.
She sternly warned her daughter: “Listen to me, don’t be foolish. What good could that Chaiba dang surnamed Ruan possibly find? He’s putting on airs and pretending to be noble now to save face, but if he comes back to pester you, you mustn’t lose your head. I’m telling you, men are very practical. Don’t even think about winning them over. Their heads are full of calculations, with no conscience whatsoever.”
Comrade Wang Tiejun objected: “Hey now, you can curse Chaiba dangs all you want, but why drag me into it? I’ve never been without conscience.”
Chen Yanqiu immediately sneered, “You talk about conscience? Do you think I have Alzheimer’s and am forgetful? Back then, you…”
Wang Xiao silently took a step back. Comrade Old Wang, you’re on your own. You’re getting on in years and are an eighth-grade fitter—how come you have zero survival instinct? Today, you’re just asking for trouble.
Wang Tiejun couldn’t withstand his wife’s sharp tongue either and quickly tried to deflect by pointing at the truck parked by the main road. “Hey, hey, they’re selling chicken heads. Let’s get two jin for me to snack on with drinks tonight.”
Chen Yanqiu, who was in the middle of enthusiastically dredging up old grievances, shot her husband a fierce glare and grumbled, “Drinks, drinks—all you know is drinking. One of these days, you’ll drown in a vat of liquor.”
“It’s not like I drink every day.”
Wang Xiao had no intention of getting involved in the couple’s banter. She dashed over to the large truck, brimming with curiosity. She had only ever seen trucks used to sell watermelons and apples—oh, and Chinese yams and sweet potatoes too. But a truck selling chicken heads? That was a first.
She leaned against the meat processing plant’s truck, trying to peer inside.
Good grief—the pungent smell of blood hit her nostrils, making her stagger.
A burly employee from the meat processing plant bellowed, “Stop crowding, stop crowding! These are all fresh goods just delivered from the plant. Chicken heads are one kuai per jin, chicken feet are one kuai for three jin.”
Wang Xiao’s eyes instantly lit up. Well, she had been wondering where to source chicken feet wholesale—turns out it’s also from the meat processing plant, and they even deliver.
She raised her voice too, “Can I get a discount if I buy more?”
The man shot her a sidelong glance, “If you’re not buying, step aside. If you want cheaper prices, you’ll have to wait until after 8 p.m.”
People around them were cursing, “Damn it, everything’s getting more expensive. What’s there to buy at 8 p.m.? Is this some ghost market?”
But Wang Xiao was secretly pleased—this meant the price of chicken feet could be negotiated even lower, possibly to one kuai for four or five jin.
She wasn’t surprised that chicken feet were much cheaper than chicken heads, since many people loved eating chicken brains.
Ahem, grilled chicken heads are really delicious—perfect for late-night snacks.
Though Chen Yanqiu complained about her husband, her hands were quick to pull out her wallet, immediately ordering three jin of chicken heads.
Hearing her daughter haggling with the meat plant worker—trying to buy 10 jin of chicken feet for 2.5 kuai—she couldn’t help but ask, “What are you doing? Two jin is enough. I’ll buy you some ribs to cook at home.”
“I have my uses.” Wang Xiao compromised, “2.8 kuai then, give me 10 jin. If your chicken feet are good, I’ll buy more in the future.”
Probably because chicken feet had less meat and were less popular than chicken heads, the meat plant worker finally relented. For 28 kuai, he weighed out a large bag of chicken feet for Wang Xiao.
Good heavens—the bag was so heavy that if Wang Tiejun hadn’t been quick-eyed and swift-handed to take it directly as it was tossed from the truck, Wang Xiao wouldn’t have been able to catch it.
Ignoring Dr. Chen’s complaints, she hurried to the dried goods stall in the market to look for seasonings.
Thank goodness—the provincial capital’s market had much better supplies than Zhou Town. Green Sichuan pepper, red Sichuan pepper, bay leaves, cinnamon—they had everything. She even found pequín chilies and green pointed chilies.
However, probably because the lemon whitening trend hadn’t caught on yet, she couldn’t find fresh lemons at the fruit stalls.
“What do you need that for?” Chen Yanqiu grumbled, but still offered advice, “Go buy it at the traditional Chinese medicine shop—they have dried lemons.”
Wang Xiao stuck to her one-line explanation: “I have my uses.”
By the time all the available seasonings had been gathered, darkness had fallen outside.
Chen Yanqiu grumbled under her breath while first starting a pot of radish and pork rib soup for her daughter on the gas stove.
Wang Xiao obediently refrained from competing with her parents for stove space. Instead, she trimmed the nails off the freshly purchased chicken feet and soaked them in water, waiting until after dinner when the kitchen became available to begin her culinary experiments.
Although living standards in China had significantly improved by 1990, the market supply of agricultural products still couldn’t compare to what would be available over thirty years later.
For instance, she couldn’t find things like prickly ash oil or chili oil, and had to make the red oil herself.
Fortunately, the three years of pandemic had truly trained people well – she actually knew how to make these, and her homemade versions were more fragrant than store-bought ones.
Watching her daughter bustling noisily in the kitchen, Chen Yanqiu couldn’t help frowning: “What are you messing around with now?”
“It’s a secret, Mom. Just wait. By tomorrow evening, I guarantee you and Dad will be astonished – I mean, you’ll eat ten pounds!”
Wang Tiejun, worried his wife’s temper might flare up and she’d scold their daughter again, quickly played peacemaker: “Alright, let her experiment. At least she’s cooking for us now, which is better than letting outsiders benefit.”
Chen Yanqiu subconsciously muttered: “Who knows what she’s messing with? Just wasting ingredients.”
These were words Dr. Chen would feel too embarrassed to say when they gathered for dinner the next evening.
She swore she had intended to scold someone when she first returned home and saw the dinner table.
All ten bowls on the table were filled with chicken feet – if people served tofu banquets for funerals, what was this dead girl thinking by hosting a chicken feet banquet?
Wang Xiao quickly pushed her mother to sit at the table and forcibly placed chopsticks in her hand: “Mom, try it. I wasn’t messing around – it’s really delicious.”
Comrade Wang Tiejun once again demonstrated his responsibility as head of household by immediately supporting his daughter, picking up a chicken foot with his chopsticks and taking a bite: “It’s delicious, oh, oh my!”
Good heavens, what flavor was this? So stimulating that even a tough man like him nearly teared up. Just when he was about to spit it out, his tongue pulled it back in.
Intense, too intense – he couldn’t bring himself to put down his chopsticks.
Seeing her father devour three rattan pepper sour and spicy boneless chicken feet in one go, Wang Xiao had to remind him: “Dad, try this one too – it’s red oil garlic chicken feet, also quite tasty.”
Wang Tiejun hissed from the spiciness but kept eating one after another.
Chen Yanqiu actually handled spice better than her husband. After sampling everything, she only developed sweat on her forehead. She didn’t even need the pear soup their daughter specially prepared to counter the spiciness, simply eating rice instead.
Only when Wang Xiao saw they had eaten their fill did she ask for feedback: “Mom, Dad, what do you think of the chicken feet?”
“Delicious,” Wang Tiejun enthusiastically supported his daughter. “Where did you learn this? I’ve never eaten these anywhere else.”
As an eighth-grade technician, he was often loaned out for technical guidance and considered himself well-traveled with extensive experience in regional cuisines. Yet tonight, his daughter had opened his eyes.
Wang Xiao grinned: “I learned it from books I borrowed from the university library. The books said these chicken feet were very popular and sold really well back then.”
The couple finally showed understanding expressions. No wonder – although their daughter had known how to cook since childhood, she’d never been particularly dedicated to culinary arts. If she didn’t learn from books, these dishes couldn’t possibly be her own creations.
Wang Xiao quickly seized the opportunity: “Mom, Dad, don’t you think my cooking skills are good enough to open a braised food shop selling chicken feet?”
Ever since transmigrating, Wang Xiao had been pondering what business to start to make big money.
Initially, selling braised chicken feet was just a side gig, but after working until now, she believed braised food was a business worth expanding—especially braised chicken feet.
Why? Because of quality control.
As long as the production process and ingredients were well-managed, even a thousand tons of chicken feet could maintain the same flavor. This was crucial for the food and beverage industry.
Guaranteed quality control meant it was easy to open chain stores. Once she mastered the recipes, she could expand her braised food shops throughout the entire provincial capital and even nationwide.
Wang Xiao had it all planned out: the shop would be named Phoenix Claw King, specializing in various unique phoenix claws (chicken feet), with inexpensive braised dishes like braised tofu shreds as supplements. If necessary, she could add braised chicken heads, braised chicken wings, stir-fried chicken chunks, and fried chicken legs to cover all chicken-based dishes.
In all honesty, Ms. Chen Yanqiu’s braised chicken heads tasted pretty good, but Wang Xiao knew a recipe for roasted chicken heads that was even more delicious—first braised, then roasted until crispy on the outside and tender on the inside, with a vibrant color and rich flavor. Sprinkled with secret seasonings like cumin and crushed peanuts, the taste was absolutely divine!
Before transmigrating, her frequent acne breakouts were partly due to eating too many of these roasted chicken heads.
The chain braised food shops were just the first step. Once the initial sales network was established, her next plan was to expand in two directions.
To the left, after cultivating a base of phoenix claw enthusiasts, she would deepen this channel and develop vacuum-packed phoenix claw products.
In the 1990s, as land constraints on people loosened and population mobility surged, convenience foods would inevitably flourish and usher in their golden age.
To the right, she would leverage the established braised food shop sales network to start selling fast food, with braised food over rice as a supplement and Western fast food as the main product.
Why? Because the 1990s were the era of KFC and McDonald’s.
Wang Xiao knew she couldn’t compete head-on with these food and beverage giants. Instead, she aimed to ride the wave of the market they had already developed.
Based on her limited life experience, she believed there was a simple shortcut to making money: moving downmarket, or more specifically, bringing products and services only available in big cities to smaller cities and counties.
She excluded townships because rapid urbanization had led to rural hollowing-out, leaving townships with little purchasing power.
Smaller cities and counties were different. Back when she earned her first pot of gold as a Sam’s Club purchasing agent, she had already seen their consumption potential.
She didn’t have the ability to cultivate a taste for Western fast food among the Chinese populace—that was the task of the Western fast-food giants.
As a local (even after transmigrating, she occupied the identity of a local), what she could do was start with the braised food that ordinary people already loved, take one step further to establish a chain sales network, and then naturally expand into creating county-level alternatives to KFC and McDonald’s.
This was her career plan for the next decade.
As for how to develop after the millennium, that would be the next ten-year plan.
Of course, there was no need to mention all this to Comrade Wang Tiejun and Ms. Chen Yanqiu just yet, lest she scare them.
She needed to take it step by step.
How do you feel now that the holiday is over?
Another day where Ah Jin doesn’t want to go to work.