Zhao Moting saw Lin Qiao’er selling goods, a flicker of surprise passing through his dark eyes.
Lin Qiao’er kept her head down, clearly not wanting to engage with him.
Zhao Moting didn’t take it to heart either, pushing his bicycle forward as he continued on his way.
Both he and Sun Yang were engineers at the automobile factory. Their work overlapped frequently, and with the Zhao and Sun families having always been on good terms, the two had become close friends. In the mornings, when Sun Yang bought breakfast, he would usually bring a portion for Zhao Moting as well.
Hearing Zhao Moting’s affirmative reply, Sun Yang grinned, handing Zhou Jianjun four cents: “Two cups of soybean milk.”
Zhou Jianjun deftly filled and passed over the soybean milk, then glanced at the two remaining pieces of savory pancake in Lin Qiao’er’s basket: “Want a couple? Made fresh this morning, really fragrant.”
Sun Yang sniffed, catching a whiff of the food’s aroma.
He leaned over to peek into the bamboo basket, thinking the savory pancakes looked quite appealing. As his gaze lifted, he caught sight of Lin Qiao’er’s face and froze.
Her oval face, skin as pale as flour, and those large, bright eyes that seemed to speak volumes.
Sun Yang stood stunned for a couple of seconds, his ears turning red as he lowered his voice: “Alright, give me two.”
Lin Qiao’er shot Zhou Jianjun a grateful look, quickly wrapping two pancakes in brown paper and handing them over.
Seeing Sun Yang standing there motionless, she found it odd: “Comrade? Comrade?”
That gentle voice seemed to bewitch Sun Yang’s very soul.
He handed over a dime, and Lin Qiao’er took it, giving him his change.
Sun Yang smiled at her: “Keep the change. I’ll be back tomorrow.”
Zhao Moting, having parked his bike, noticed Sun Yang still lingering and reminded him: “We’ll get docked pay if we’re late.”
Only then did Sun Yang reluctantly leave, quickening his pace to catch up with Zhao Moting: “Mo Ting, wait for me.”
Zhao Moting caught a whiff of the fragrance: “What’s in the brown paper?”
Sun Yang shoved a cup of soybean milk and a savory pancake into Zhao Moting’s hands: “Try it. Called something like savory pancake. Never had it before, smells pretty good.”
Zhao Moting took it and took a bite.
The pancake was crispy, the sauce sweet and spicy, and the flavor rich.
Sun Yang finished his in a few bites, still craving more, and patted Zhao Moting’s shoulder: “Good, right? I’m buying more tomorrow.”
Seeing Sun Yang eyeing his remaining half, Zhao Moting took a step back.
Noticing Zhao Moting’s protective stance over his food, Sun Yang rubbed his ear: “That girl is really pretty. Even in our factory, there’s no one better-looking than her.”
Zhao Moting shot him a glance: “Still just one nose and two eyes.”
Sun Yang sighed mournfully: “Alright, you’ve got my cousin, but I’m still single.”
Zhao Moting rubbed his forehead: “I broke off the engagement with Xiaowen before I went to the countryside. Don’t ruin her reputation.”
Sun Yang was taken aback: “Xiaowen waited for you all these years. If she waits any longer, she’ll be past her prime.”
Zhao Moting glared at him, not wanting to continue the topic, and turned to leave: “I’m going to check the workshop.”
Sun Yang stood where he was, watching Zhao Moting’s retreating figure, muttering to himself: “Broke off the engagement? When did that happen? Why haven’t I heard Xiaowen mention it?”
He shook his head and followed.
Lin Qiao’er hadn’t expected to sell all fifty savory pancakes in under an hour.
She counted the colorful small bills—today’s sales totaled two yuan. After deducting the cost of ingredients, she’d made a net profit of eight mao.
Eight mao.
In Stone Village, she’d have to work an entire day to earn that much.
Here, she’d done it in just one morning.
She folded the money neatly and tucked it into her inner pocket, patting it a few times, feeling much more at ease.
If she made more tomorrow, she could earn a bit extra.
The next day, she got up even earlier, rising in the dark at four o’clock. She lit the kerosene stove and began mixing the dough, kneading it, and frying the pancakes.
In one go, she fried over a hundred large pancakes, filling the entire building with their aroma.
“Oh my, which family is frying pancakes so early in the morning, and so fragrantly?” came a voice from downstairs, likely an older woman.
“Grandma, I’m hungry,” a child’s voice piped up, sweet and pleading.
This was followed by a sharp “smack” and the sound of the child crying after being hit.
Lin Qiao’er couldn’t help but smile at the commotion.
Her hands never stopped moving—flipping the pancakes, brushing them with oil, and taking them out of the pan, one after another.
By the time she finished frying, beads of sweat covered her forehead, and the back of her shirt was soaked through.
Without pausing to catch her breath, she picked up her bamboo basket and headed out.
As soon as she stepped outside, she saw the man from next door standing in the corridor hanging laundry, dressed in a white tank top and loose shorts.
His eyes fixed on her like a wolf eyeing a rabbit, scanning her from head to toe before finally settling on her face.
The gaze felt like a slimy slug crawling over her skin, making Lin Qiao’er deeply uncomfortable.
Since they were neighbors, she couldn’t afford to make a scene. Forcing a strained smile, she sidestepped past him, quickening her pace.
The man said nothing, but Lin Qiao’er could feel his eyes following her all the way until she descended the stairs.
For several days in a row, Lin Qiao’er’s savory pancakes were the fastest-selling snack in the area.
Even Zhou Jianjun felt a twinge of envy.
As they were packing up for the day, he approached her with a smile and said, “Qiao’er, your business is really booming.”
Lin Qiao’er smiled back, wrapping the last two pancakes in brown paper and handing them over. “These are leftovers, please don’t be polite.”
Zhou Jianjun quickly declined. “How can I keep accepting these? I’ve been eating yours every day.”
Lin Qiao’er pushed them toward him. “Take them. I want to pack up early and rest.”
Seeing her insistence, Zhou Jianjun accepted them with a warm, honest smile. “Then I won’t stand on ceremony. My younger brother loves these—every time I bring them home, he can finish a whole one by himself. Your sauce is incredible. I’ve tried making it at home several times but could never get the flavor right.”
“It’s a secret family recipe.”
Lin Qiao’er bent down to tidy up, shaking the crumbs out of her bamboo basket.
Zhou Jianjun glanced around and lowered his voice. “Qiao’er, I need to tell you something. Your business is doing so well it’s attracting envy. Be careful.”
Lin Qiao’er paused and looked up at him.
Zhou Jianjun gestured toward the opposite side with his chin, his voice dropping even lower. “The plump auntie selling scallion pancakes and the one selling steamed buns have been whispering about you these past few days. I didn’t catch everything, but it definitely wasn’t anything good.”
Lin Qiao’er’s heart sank, though she kept her expression neutral.
She nodded and deliberately raised her voice. “It’s all small-scale business—doesn’t earn much. Just half a cent profit per pancake, all hard-earned money.”
Zhou Jianjun understood her meaning and chimed in loudly, “Yeah, yeah, it’s not easy for any of us.”
The two shared a knowing smile.
After Lin Qiao’er left, the plump auntie selling scallion pancakes watched her retreating figure, pursed her lips, and said to the middle-aged woman selling steamed buns next to her, “Did you see that? The way she walks, swaying her hips—clearly not a decent woman.
Those men aren’t buying her pancakes because they taste good. They’re all after her pretty face.”
“Little vixen, always knows how to seduce men.”
The steamed bun seller also spat disdainfully, saying sourly, “Isn’t that right. Ever since she came, my bun sales have been dropping day by day. I used to sell two baskets in a morning, now I can’t even finish one. If this keeps up, I won’t be able to do business anymore.”
Auntie Fatty snorted, “You don’t know, the engineer Zhao from the automobile factory—I’ve never seen him buy breakfast before—but these past few days, he’s been going to her stall every day to buy scallion pancakes.” Auntie Fatty’s husband worked at the automobile factory, and she loved gossip; there wasn’t a piece of news within ten miles she didn’t know about.
“Two buns, please.”
The two were whispering when they didn’t notice Sun Xiaowen quietly approaching.
Auntie Fatty immediately switched from Sichuan dialect to a bright, sunny smile, placing two buns into Sun Xiaowen’s aluminum lunchbox.
Sun Xiaowen paid, her smile gentle but her words carrying a hidden edge, “Auntie, Engineer Zhao is my fiancé. Please don’t spread rumors behind my back.”