The older woman revealed a pleasantly surprised expression and tried some of the pickled celtuce as well.
This one was good too—its texture was even crispier.
She happened to have brought a lunch box with her when she left home, so it was perfect for buying two portions.
“Give me one bowl of each,” the woman said as she took out her aluminum lunch box.
“Coming right up!” Qin Suian replied with a smile plastered across her face, quickly and skillfully serving the food.
The white porcelain serving bowl wasn’t too big or too small—just an ordinary rice bowl size. After filling two bowls and transferring them into the lunch box, it already looked completely full.
Two mao to eat with plain porridge for breakfast was admittedly a little expensive, but it was acceptable for trying something new once in a while.
“Auntie, you’re my very first customer, so I’ll give you an extra half bowl. Hope you don’t mind,” Qin Suian said. After filling the two bowls, she specially added another half bowl for free.
The woman hadn’t expected such an extra bonus, and a smile immediately appeared on her face.
“If it tastes good, come again next time. I’ll basically be setting up here every day,” Qin Suian added, not forgetting to advertise herself.
“Alright. If it’s good, I’ll come back.” The woman closed her lunch box, paid the money, and left satisfied.
The nearby onlookers also began stepping forward to sample the pickles.
One person, noticing Qin Suian giving away the extra half bowl, quickly asked, “Does the second customer get the bonus too?”
“Yes! The first ten customers who buy two bowls each will all get an extra half bowl,” Qin Suian answered cheerfully.
The moment she said that, even people who hadn’t really intended to buy changed their minds.
After all, two bowls only cost two mao, and they’d get an extra half bowl on top of that.
The person who had asked immediately bought two bowls as well—one of each flavor.
Then came the third customer, then the fourth.
Qin Suian handled serving the pickles while Xiaojuan collected money and gave change.
After the first ten customers, more and more people were drawn in by the free samples. Once they tried them, most ended up buying one or two bowls to take home.
Mainly because the taste and texture truly weren’t something they could recreate at home. One bite was enough to tell that a large variety of seasonings had been used to create such layered flavors.
Spending one mao to try something fresh felt acceptable.
In less than an hour, the two jars of pickles they had brought were completely sold out.
Qin Suian told Xiaojuan to watch the stall while she went home to carry over two more jars.
The bamboo-weaving auntie had been observing the whole time. Seeing Qin Suian’s business booming right from the start made her a little envious.
She herself had only sold two bamboo scrubbers and one basket all morning.
Meanwhile, Qin Suian had already sold dozens of bowls of pickles.
Were they really that delicious?
She knew how to make pickles too. Didn’t all pickles taste about the same?
When she saw Qin Suian leave and only the young girl remain at the stall, she walked over to chat.
“Girl, your pickle business is doing pretty well. A successful first day, huh?”
“It’s alright, I guess,” Xiaojuan replied. She had been watching the surrounding vendors and was slightly caught off guard by being approached.
“This must be your family recipe. Looks tasty. So how exactly do you pickle them? Any secret tricks?” The bamboo-weaving auntie was partly curious and partly deliberately teasing the girl.
Who knew? Maybe the girl had a loose tongue.
“A family recipe naturally isn’t shared outside the family. Auntie, your heart’s pretty sneaky,” Xiaojuan replied bluntly.
She hadn’t had much contact with malicious people before, but asking something so directly—did they think she was stupid?
“I was just joking.” The bamboo-weaving auntie laughed awkwardly.
“That joke isn’t funny,” Xiaojuan shot back.
The older woman saw that this girl was rather fierce herself, so she stopped smiling and returned to her own stall.
Just then, Qin Suian came back carrying the shoulder pole.
“What happened?” Qin Suian noticed the woman walking away but hadn’t heard their conversation.
“She asked me how the pickles were made,” Xiaojuan huffed angrily.
“Just ignore her. If anyone else comes looking for trouble, scold them right back,” Qin Suian said knowingly.
Doing business outside, they were bound to encounter all sorts of people.
Business emphasized harmony and prosperity, but that depended on the kind of person you were dealing with. Not everyone deserved polite treatment.
“I know.” Xiaojuan was still somewhat shy around strangers, but her personality was never soft or submissive. If someone bullied her, there was no way she’d simply endure it without fighting back.
The two newly carried jars sold much more slowly this time. After all, after ten o’clock, the market gradually began to thin out.
Fortunately, around noon, customers started increasing again.
It turned out that dock workers and laborers had gotten off work, and nearby shop owners and employees were also heading out to find lunch.
A grocery shop owner named Song Hongxia came over to support the business.
She had noticed Qin Suian setting up in the morning, but since she had already eaten breakfast, she hadn’t bought anything then.
“Give me two bowls of each,” Song Hongxia said after sampling both dishes and deciding she wanted them all. She handed over a porcelain bowl.
“Right away!” Since this was the biggest customer of the day so far, Qin Suian hurried to serve the food.
“If you like it, come back next time,” Qin Suian said smiling as she returned the filled bowl.
“If it’s good, I’ll definitely come often. If you’d opened a little earlier, I would’ve bought some for breakfast too,” Song Hongxia replied. She paid Xiaojuan and carried the bowl back to her shop.
Soon another customer arrived—a worker wearing a sleeveless undershirt. His lunch box contained two coarse mixed-grain steamed buns that looked dry and rough.
He had heard from a coworker that a new pickle stall had opened here, and that the pickles were especially good with rice—salty, spicy, and refreshing—so he came to try them.
He sampled the pickled cucumbers and found them wonderfully crisp and appetizing. Immediately, he bought one mao worth of cucumber pickles.
After that, more and more workers gradually came over to buy pickles.
Most laborers doing heavy manual work were extremely frugal. They usually brought their own coarse buns or flatbread and drank plain boiled water for a meal.
Some brought their own pickles too, though more often they didn’t.
Qin Suian’s “Suian Pickles” looked incredibly tempting. After trying the samples, many workers immediately bought a bowl and ate it alongside their dry, rough buns with obvious enjoyment.
Even people who originally couldn’t bear to spend one mao found themselves tempted into buying a serving.
Some thrifty workers even split one portion between two people, sharing it just to satisfy the craving.
“This really tastes great—way better than the pickles I make myself. It goes perfectly with rice. Even my coarse buns taste better now,” one young worker remarked while squatting beside Qin Suian’s stall and eating.
His family was poor, so he had started carrying heavy loads for work at a young age. He could cook for himself somewhat, but the flavors were usually mediocre.
Qin Suian’s pickles were a genuine surprise. He had never eaten pickles this delicious before. After one bite, he wanted more. Even the rough buns he usually struggled to swallow suddenly didn’t seem so unpleasant anymore.
“If it tastes good, come again tomorrow,” Qin Suian advertised while busily serving food and gathering customer feedback at the same time.
As the workers spread the word from one person to another, Qin Suian’s stall soon became tightly packed with people.
One bowl after another—the business kept her overwhelmingly busy.
Xiaojuan’s hands were practically sore from collecting money.
In less than an hour, these two jars sold out as well.
“I want a bowl too,” one late-arriving worker said, holding out his bowl.
“Sorry, we’re sold out. There’ll be more tonight,” Qin Suian replied regretfully.
The lunch rush was basically over by now. Even if she hurried home to fetch more, it would already be too late.
It was better to create a bit of “scarcity marketing” instead.
“Ah… alright then.” The man walked away disappointed.
After selling out, Qin Suian and Xiaojuan packed up the stall. They even used the broom they had brought with them to clean up the surrounding area before finally leaving with their shoulder pole and baskets.