In the back kitchen of the cafeteria, steam swirled in the air.
Xiao Fang and Wu Hongxia were bent over a large basin of potatoes, scrubbing vigorously, water splashing everywhere.
“Pfft—”
Xiao Fang suddenly burst out laughing, bumping her elbow against Wu Hongxia. She lowered her voice, disbelief written all over her face:
“Hongxia, are you saying… Gu Ye brought his wife to the cafeteria last night because he tried cooking at home and, and broke the pot?!”
Wu Hongxia couldn’t help laughing either, flicking water from her hands:
“Exactly! My husband came home from work yesterday all proud, saying that Gu Ye specially asked him for tips on a few signature dishes—probably to teach his wife. Who would’ve thought…”
She gestured toward the outside with a nod, “The one who stormed into the cafeteria with a black face? That was Gu Ye himself! He was the one cooking!”
Xiao Fang clicked her tongue in amazement, a hint of envy shining in her eyes:
“You really can’t judge a book by its cover. Someone like Gu Ye, at home, actually handling a cooking spoon?”
“That’s where you don’t understand,”
Wu Hongxia said, with the air of someone who had seen it all:
“This couple is like one monkey and one rope. Out in public, Gu Ye looks fierce, but behind closed doors… who knows who’s really in charge!”
“Last night, I saw his girl acting all obedient and well-behaved. Who could’ve guessed she could get someone like Gu Ye to learn how to cook?”
Xiao Fang: “Well, that makes sense… sometimes it’s just fate, hard to explain…”
What they didn’t know was, as the story spread, it had already been twisted.
By the time it reached the miners when Gu Ye went down the pit, the version had changed to:
Gu Ye’s wife was so clumsy cooking that she burned through the pot. Gu Ye was so angry his face went as black as the bottom of the pot. He dragged her straight to the cafeteria, scowling so fiercely it could scare the devil.
The crowd sighed, a cautionary tale: never pick a husband like that, one punch and the wife could be knocked flat!
Gu Ye had no idea.
He silently checked his mining lamp, his expression colder than usual.
Old Zhang, preparing to go down the pit with him, was the same man who had eagerly shared cooking tips yesterday. Seeing Gu Ye’s mood, he felt uneasy.
He stepped closer, patted Gu Ye on the shoulder, and spoke earnestly:
“Xiao Gu, still upset about last night?”
Gu Ye didn’t reply.
“Ah, it’s no big deal! No one’s a genius—learning takes time. One failure is normal, don’t take it to heart.”
Old Zhang thought Gu Ye was annoyed at his “wife’s” clumsiness.
Gu Ye kept a stern face, still silent.
But in his mind echoed the memory from last night on the way to the cafeteria: Lin Wan looking at him with that half-smile, half-serious expression, and her lightly spoken words:
“Gu Ye, I think you’re not as capable as before… not as perfect.”
He felt frustrated.
Extremely frustrated.
But he didn’t want to admit it.
Old Zhang saw Gu Ye’s expression darken and thought his words were hitting home. He pressed on:
“In a marriage, it’s all about tolerance, understanding! You have to be magnanimous!”
Gu Ye nodded.
He agreed with that.
He failed once, and Lin Wan said he wasn’t as skilled as before—hardly tolerant of him.
Old Zhang got even more enthusiastic:
“If that doesn’t work, have your wife come over to my place. My husband will teach her a few tricks—guaranteed she’ll learn!”
Gu Ye turned sharply, frowning: “Why should she learn?”
Old Zhang froze, stammering: “W-who else? Who’s going to learn? You?”
His eyes widened as if he’d heard nonsense from a fairy tale. “What man would do this? So humiliating!”
Gu Ye stared at him for two seconds, a look that screamed: You can’t reason with someone who’s clueless.
He strapped on his mining lamp briskly and said:
“There’s no talking with you mundane people.”
Then he strode toward the pit entrance,
leaving Old Zhang standing there, scratching the back of his head, wondering—
If he gives advice, it’s wrong. If he doesn’t, it’s still wrong?
“Boss, do you have materials to repair a pot? Tin blocks or fireproof clay, something like that?”
Lin Wan asked Zhao Weiguo, who was dozing behind the counter.
Thinking of the iron pot at home, the edge punctured by Gu Ye’s force,
Lin Wan had no choice but to try her luck at the small shop again.
Zhao Weiguo opened his eyes and yawned:
“Repair a pot? Who even does that now? If it’s broken, they just replace it.”
He said this, yet bent over to rummage through a messy wooden box under the counter, muttering:
“Seems like we had some before… where did I put it…”
Lin Wan waited patiently, scanning the cramped shop.
The shelves were disorganized, mixing daily necessities with groceries, covered in a thin layer of dust.
Finding anything relied entirely on the owner’s memory and the customer’s eyesight.
With this display, forget shopping desire—just finding something would be lucky.
“Boss, if you… sorted things, like food over here, daily goods over there, wouldn’t it be faster to find? And it’d look neater too.”
She couldn’t help but comment.
Zhao Weiguo, rummaging without looking back, grunted:
“Ah, with so little stuff, why bother sorting?”
After a while, he finally found a small tin, blew off the dust:
“Here, this should work, old solder… not sure if it’s still good. Five cents.”
Lin Wan paid and was about to leave, when her eyes caught a few items on the bottom shelf in the corner—
A few dull-colored plastic hair ties, and two boxes of snow cream with gaudy peony patterns, dusty on top.
She got an idea.
She was new here and, aside from the “infamous” Gu Ye, barely knew anyone.
It was too passive—information blocked. If anything happened, she’d be the last to know.
Lin Wan didn’t like feeling completely out of control.
These small items weren’t valuable, but they might be used to bribe some miners’ families, at least to get familiar faces.
“Boss, how much for the hair ties and snow cream?”
Zhao Weiguo was a little surprised, sweeping dust with a feather duster:
“Hair ties, two for a cents; snow cream, three cents a box. Haven’t had anyone ask for these for half a year.”
“I’ll take them all.”
Lin Wan paid promptly, carefully storing the solder, hair ties, and snow cream, then left the shop.
After she left, Zhao Weiguo looked at the messy shelves and remembered Lin Wan’s words:
“Sort… neat…”
He had nothing to do that afternoon, muttered, how troublesome could it be? and started tidying.
He put the food on the right shelf, daily items like soap, matches, toothpaste on the left,
and moved long-stored trinkets to more prominent spots.
When he finished, it looked much neater, but he still muttered:
Fiddling around… can neatness fill a stomach?
Just then, Captain Zhao from Team Two came in, lifting the curtain:
“Old Zhao, come pack—eh?”
He stopped mid-sentence, eyes lighting up.
He went straight to the top shelf of the daily goods on the left, picked up a blue-checked cigarette pouch:
“Hey! When did this get here? How did I miss it before? Perfect, mine broke, I’ll take one!”
He also grabbed a pack of cigarettes from the right shelf, clicking his tongue:
“Old Zhao, not bad! The shop’s much more organized, and things are easier to find!”
Zhao Weiguo collected the money, watching Captain Zhao leave satisfied, glanced at the newly organized shop, and muttered, stroking his chin:
Huh… Gu Ye’s girl… seems to have some sense.