Right after setting up the stall, a big order came in. Granny Liu flusteredly picked up the hairpin and placed it into a wooden box, handing it over with joyful eyes. The two Nügongzi briskly tossed her a tael of silver, leaving behind the words “Keep the change” before striding away.
It seemed there was still a market for this. Mu Simiao curled her lips as she gazed at Granny Liu’s back.
After her delight subsided, Granny Liu finally remembered Mu Simiao behind her. Her attitude immediately did a complete turnaround: “Which street do you want? What kind of stall are you planning? This old woman will help you find one.”
“Just setting up some noodle dishes. That alley up ahead will do.” Mu Simiao had checked earlier—that alley was full of food stalls, and across from it was a private school, ensuring a basic customer flow. Even just starting out, it wouldn’t go unnoticed.
“Alright then, but you’ll have to offer something in return.”
It was ultimately about hairpin designs. Mu Simiao patted her chest confidently: “No problem. I’ll draw two hairpin designs with details as soon as I return to the courtyard. If you need anything else, just say so.”
“Two designs might be a bit few.” Granny Liu clearly wanted to squeeze more ideas out of her, and Mu Simiao understood her concerns.
“Granny Liu, if you want other styles later, you’re welcome to come find me. I also promise you I will never sell jewelry.”
Businesspeople fear competitors most, and Mu Simiao could understand that. Sure enough, upon hearing this, Granny Liu immediately grasped her hand: “With your word, it’s settled. I’ll help you find a stall tomorrow.”
Finally, a major matter was resolved. After Mu Simiao finished drawing two hairpin designs with detailed diagrams for Granny Liu, the stall rental agreement was handed to her.
Granny Liu accepted it contentedly, patting her arm: “If you need any help in the future, just say so. It’s not far from here anyway.”
“Ah, thank you, Granny Liu.”
Now that she had secured the stall, Mu Simiao bid her farewell. Granny Liu was quite decent—as she left, she stuffed two eggs and ten copper coins into Mu Simiao’s arms.
Passing by a pastry shop, Mu Simiao went in and selected several new flavors to bring back for Qi Yuze to try. If there was a chance later, she might even make some cream cakes.
Considering she needed to bring quite a few things tomorrow, Mu Simiao bought three wooden buckets from a roadside shop, along with some ordinary leak-proof oiled paper for portioning the cold noodles.
Mu Simiao patted the stall rental agreement in her chest, carrying the pastries as she pushed open the courtyard gate, only to suddenly lock eyes with an unfamiliar face. The smile on her lips froze, afraid she might reveal something, especially since she didn’t know this person’s identity.
“You’re back. Yuze is cooking in the kitchen.” The middle-aged woman held Yue’er in her arms, who was being amused and seemed very familiar with her.
To avoid saying too much and making mistakes, Mu Simiao淡淡地 responded with an “Mm” and headed toward the kitchen. When she saw the tear stains on Qi Yuze’s face, her heart clenched. Snatching the spatula from his hand, she frowned and asked, “What happened?”
Qi Yuze glanced toward the courtyard, wiping away his tears with his sleeve, his voice choked: “It’s nothing…”
It clearly didn’t seem like nothing. Mu Simiao tightly gripped his hand, her expression darkening as she looked toward the courtyard, attempting to get up and confront her: “Did she give you a hard time?”
“No.” Qi Yuze quickly stopped her, lowering his head and speaking softly, “Mother didn’t do anything to me. It’s because I’m too lazy.”
Learning the visitor’s identity from him, Mu Simiao patted his hand again: “It was clearly my decision. Even Mother shouldn’t accuse you without understanding the situation.”
Mu Simiao brushed his hand aside and strode over to her mother: “Mother, Yuze has been working hard taking care of Yue’er. It was my decision not to let him cook. There’s no need to blame him.”
“Tired from watching the child at home? You work hard to earn money and still have to cook when you return. Look around—which family operates like this? For a man to be so lazy, it’s only because of your good nature that he hasn’t been divorced in another household!”
Though seated, Mother’s presence was undiminished. She stared sternly at Qi Yuze: “Not only has he not improved, but he’s also learned to tattle now.”
Qi Yuze’s lips trembled slightly, but he ultimately remained silent. Mu Simiao couldn’t stand his meekness any longer and turned indignantly to take Yue’er from her mother’s arms: “I know how to manage household affairs. There’s no need for Mother to worry.”
Mother’s face went blank. Mu Simiao had actually changed her usual attitude and was defending Qi Yuze so staunchly: “Simiao, how can you be so ungrateful?”
She snorted coldly and glanced at the empty courtyard. Mu Simiao had been idle for years, so Mother hadn’t considered she might be involved, believing this was Qi Yuze’s responsibility.
After Mother left the courtyard, Mu Simiao turned and handed Yue’er to Qi Yuze, then placed the pastries she was carrying on the table: “I bought some different flavors today. You can try them and see which one you prefer.”
Yue’er reached out to grab the pastries, but Qi Yuze blocked her hand and looked up at Mu Simiao: “Mu Niang, Mother rarely visits. Shouldn’t you…”
“What?”Mu Simiao feigned solemnity as she glanced over, and sure enough, Qi Yuze immediately fell silent, not daring to refute.”
Mu Simiao handed him a pastry. As he took it and began chewing, she seized the moment when he couldn’t speak to chide lightly: “When she criticizes you, you just stand there and take it? Can’t you refute? Even though she’s an elder, you could shift the blame to me. After all, I was the one who told you not to cook…”
Qi Yuze tried to speak, but with his mouth full of pastry, he could only listen as Mu Simiao finished her lecture. Once he finally swallowed the pastry, he hurried to explain, but she covered his lips.
“No need to say more. If Mother comes again next time, wait until I return. Don’t listen to her. Do I make myself clear?” Mu Simiao’s eyes were filled with seriousness. Qi Yuze stared for a long moment before slowly nodding.
Satisfied, Mu Simiao released her hand and began informing him about her stall plans: “Starting tomorrow, I won’t be helping at the hairpin vendor’s stall anymore.”
Here we go again. Qi Yuze was accustomed to her short-lived enthusiasms, but this time he had truly believed Mu Simiao would change. Hearing her give up so soon left him deeply disappointed.
Seeing Qi Yuze’s dejected expression, Mu Simiao could guess his thoughts. She chuckled softly and pulled the stall deed from her robe: “I’ve rented a stall on the market street to sell the cold noodles we had the other day.”
This stall idea sounded much more reliable than her previous gambling ventures. Qi Yuze was willing to trust her once more: “Mu Niang, is there anything I can do to help?”
“No need. Just take good care of Yue’er at home.” Since it was just starting, she wanted to test the waters first. If business boomed, she could always hire help later.
In the evening, she found a wooden board and wrote the bold characters “Si Miao Cold Noodles” in ink, adding smaller text beside it: “2 coins per portion.”
The next day, after breakfast, Mu Simiao began kneading dough and rolling noodles. She boiled chicken and shredded it into fine strips, then prepared a large bowl of sauce. By the time everything was portioned, Qi Yuze had already cleaned the idle pull-cart. Working together, they loaded the ingredients onto the cart, and Mu Simiao headed toward the market.
Noon, when temperatures peaked, was the perfect time for cold noodles.
When Mu Simiao arrived with her cart, neighboring stall owners eyed her offerings with curiosity—they had never seen food prepared in advance and brought ready to serve.
Sensing their puzzlement, Mu Simiao swiftly assembled a portion of cold noodles and handed it to the owner of the neighboring pulled-noodle stall: “Sister, I’m new here. Please bear with me if I’m unaware of any customs.”
Not stopping at just one, she distributed smaller samples to the other stalls as well—though in modest amounts to avoid depleting her stock before sales even began.
Having received free samples, the other vendors naturally had no complaints. The steamed cake stall owner even offered advice, suggesting Mu Simiao add more cornel, as city dwellers had a fondness for spicy flavors.
Mu Simiao had already considered this and decided it would be fine to ask customers about their spice preference at the point of sale.
As the sun reached its zenith, a sudden stream of people emerged along the street, likely from a private school or similar institution. Groups of young girls clustered together, scattering among the various stalls.
“Look, a new stall here—and it’s quite affordable,” two girls remarked as they paused before Mu Simiao’s setup. Though they had never tried the dish, their curiosity was piqued.
“You can sample it first,” Mu Simiao offered, handing them two small pre-portioned tastes. Pleased with her approach, they ate the samples slowly, chewing thoughtfully.
A novel flavor burst on their tongues—they had never experienced noodles like this, both refreshing and fragrant with a hint of spice.
“We’ll take two portions,” they said cheerfully, pulling four coins from their pockets. Mu Simiao accepted the copper coins and began assembling their orders. “We have mild, medium, and spicy levels. Which would you prefer?”
The two girls exchanged glances and eventually ordered two medium-spicy chicken shreds cold noodles. As Mu Simiao packed their servings, she looked up to find a long queue had formed in front of her stall.
At first, she managed to offer a few samples, but soon there was no time. Mu Simiao had underestimated the demand for delicious food—within half an hour, her entire bucket of noodles was nearly empty.
Fortunately, halfway through the line, she had the foresight to turn away additional customers. After serving the last portion, she let out a deep sigh of relief and wiped the sweat from her temples with her sleeve.
“Sister, one chicken shreds cold noodles, please.”
Mu Simiao, busy cleaning up, apologized reflexively: “I’m sorry, we’re sold out for today. Please come back tomorrow.”
Only after speaking did she realize the voice sounded familiar. She glanced up and saw Liu Haoxuan standing before the stall, smiling at her with narrowed eyes.
“What brings you here? But we really are out of noodles today. Come earlier tomorrow, and I’ll save a portion for you,” Mu Simiao said. Liu Haoxuan, however, seemed unconcerned with her reply. Instead, he stepped closer, dabbing her forehead with a handkerchief. “Sister Mu, you’ve worked so hard. Let me help you wipe your sweat.”
Having recently turned him down, Mu Simiao felt this was inappropriate and quickly retreated two steps. “Thank you, but men and women should maintain propriety. Haoxuan, you should be more mindful.”
Liu Haoxuan gave a light hum, his eyes shifting: “Sister, it seems you’re short-handed here. Why not hire me? I’m very cheap—just one copper coin will do.”
Though Liu Haoxuan had lowered his own worth, Mu Simiao still had no desire to employ him. Not only because he had intentions toward her, but also because looking at his face always made her think of her cousin. “No need…”
“Sister, I’ve never been favored by Father or Mother at home. If I can’t earn money, Mother will sell me off to some distant place.” As he spoke, Liu Haoxuan withdrew his handkerchief and wiped the tears he had forcibly squeezed from the corners of his eyes.