Zhao Moting returned to his workstation and opened the aluminum lunchbox.
As soon as the lid was lifted, a sweet and sour aroma wafted out.
Inside the box were neatly arranged sweet and sour pork ribs, glistening with a bright red hue and evenly coated in sauce. Next to them were several rows of cabbage dumplings, plump and white, their wrappers so thin that the filling was faintly visible.
Zhao Moting picked up a piece of rib and put it in his mouth.
The sweetness and sourness were perfectly balanced, the meat tender and juicy, cooked just right—the bone slipped off with a gentle press.
He then picked up a dumpling.
It was filled with cabbage, refreshing and not greasy. The dumpling wrapper was chewy, and when bitten into, it released a burst of flavorful juice.
He ate neither too fast nor too slowly, but bite after bite, he didn’t stop.
As soon as Sun Yang entered the office, his nose twitched.
“Well, well!” He tossed the blueprint in his hand onto the table, strode over, and craned his neck to peek into the lunchbox. “Eating behind my back?”
Zhao Moting glanced at him expressionlessly, pulled the lunchbox closer to himself, picked up another piece of rib, and chewed slowly.
Sun Yang grew anxious, nearly jumping in frustration. “We’re brothers! You’re so stingy, hogging all the food for yourself. You’ll get fat!”
Only after finishing the rib did Zhao Moting leisurely pull two yuan from his pocket and slap it onto the table, his tone indifferent. “If you want to eat, go buy your own.”
Sun Yang glared at him, glanced at the money, snatched it up, and stuffed it into his pocket with a huff. “You gave this willingly.”
He turned to leave but suddenly spun back, raising an eyebrow with a sly grin. “Bro, this lunchbox… it wasn’t made by my cousin, was it?”
Zhao Moting shot him a disdainful look. “If you used your imagination for work, you wouldn’t have to work overtime every day.”
Sun Yang clutched his chest, wearing an expression of deep hurt as if he’d been stabbed in the heart.
“With a mouth that sharp, you’d better watch out or you’ll never find a wife,” he muttered before turning and heading out to the cafeteria for his own meal.
Zhao Moting ignored him and lowered his head to continue eating.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed someone approaching.
Sun Xiaowen.
She wore a light blue dacron blouse, her hair tied in a low ponytail, and semi-high-heeled leather shoes on her feet. Her posture while walking was upright and proper, clearly the demeanor of a girl who had been strictly disciplined since childhood.
She walked over to Zhao Moting’s workstation and glanced down at the lunchbox on the table.
There were still two pieces of ribs and a few dumplings left inside.
Her gaze lingered on the lunchbox for a moment, something flickering in her eyes before she quickly suppressed it, replacing it with her usual gentle smile.
“Mo Ting, having lunch?”
Zhao Moting grunted in acknowledgment from his throat, clearly somewhat dismissive.
Sun Yang happened to walk back in through the door, holding a bowl of cafeteria-bought braised pork over rice. Seeing Sun Xiaowen, he grinned widely. “Hey, Xiaowen, here specifically to see your Mo Ting?”
Sun Xiaowen shot him a reproachful look, her voice soft. “Don’t talk nonsense. I brought the intern over and thought I’d stop by to see you both.”
Sun Yang smirked mischievously, sitting down in a chair with his rice bowl and digging in as he spoke. “I heard you’ve been making quite a bit lately. Shouldn’t you treat us to a meal?”
Everyone in the factory knew that Sun Xiaowen had taken over one of the snack counters.
Though it was called “taking over,” it was really just an arrangement with the logistics department—the factory provided the space, she hired staff to sell snacks, and they settled accounts at the end of the month.
In these times, only those with connections could land such opportunities.
Sun Xiaowen smiled and said generously, “Alright, shall Brother Mo Ting come along too?”
Sun Yang jumped in before Zhao Moting could respond, “He’ll definitely go!”
Zhao Moting shot Sun Yang a glare.
Sun Yang pretended not to see it, rubbed his ear, gave an awkward smile, and buried his head in his meal.
Sun Xiaowen pretended not to notice the subtle exchange between the two and said with a smile, “Then it’s settled. We’ll go to the state-run restaurant together after work.”
Lin Qiao’er set up her savory pancake stall at the entrance of Shanghai University.
The road was called Xuefu Road, lined with French parasol trees whose canopies blotted out the sky. In the evening, the setting sun filtered through the leaves, scattering shards of gold across the ground.
The university entrance was much livelier than the automobile factory.
Young students bustled back and forth, some carrying books, others riding bicycles, chatting and laughing in small groups.
On both sides of the entrance, several snack stalls were set up—some selling tea eggs, others roasted sweet potatoes, and still others steaming wontons. The mingling aromas were so enticing that passersby could hardly resist stopping.
Lin Qiao’er found an empty spot, set down her basket, spread out a white cotton cloth, and neatly arranged the savory pancakes one by one.
She glanced around and felt a sense of relief.
There were no other savory pancake sellers nearby.
She was the only one.
“Savory pancakes—hot savory pancakes—five cents each—”
She imitated Zhou Jianjun’s style and called out in a clear voice that carried far in the evening air.
A boy holding a basketball stopped in his tracks.
He wore a brand-new athletic tank top, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead, his hair damp as if he had just finished playing a game.
He walked up to the stall and was about to take out his money when he looked up and saw Lin Qiao’er’s face, freezing in surprise.
What a beautiful girl.
Lin Qiao’er smiled at him. “Classmate, would you like a pancake?”
The boy snapped out of his daze. “Yes, one, please.”
The boy handed over five cents, and Lin Qiao’er deftly wrapped a pancake in brown paper and passed it to him.
The boy took it, took a bite, chewed twice, and his eyes instantly lit up.
He took another big bite and mumbled, “One more!”
Lin Qiao’er wrapped another pancake and handed it over, this time adding a bit more sauce.
The boy took the pancake but didn’t rush off. As he ate, he asked, “Will you be here tomorrow?”
Lin Qiao’er nodded. “Yes.”
The boy grinned, revealing a set of white teeth. “Great, I’ll bring the basketball team here tomorrow. They’ll definitely love it.”
Lin Qiao’er smiled and thanked him.
The boy, holding his basketball and taking another bite of the pancake, turned and ran off, glancing back at her after a few steps.
Lin Qiao’er lowered her head and continued attending to customers, unaware of his lingering gaze.
She looked up at the large characters on the university gate—Shanghai University.
The characters were gilded, shimmering brightly in the evening sun.
Her parents had passed away early, and she had dropped out of school after elementary school.
When her father was alive, he often said, “Qiao’er, study hard and get into university someday.”
Lin Qiao’er shook her head, refusing to dwell on these thoughts.
Thanks to the basketball boy’s promotion, Lin Qiao’er’s savory pancake business at the university entrance grew steadily.
On the first day, she sold eighty pancakes; on the second day, one hundred and twenty; and on the third day, she made one hundred and fifty, selling out in less than an hour.
The students had a taste for good food and a bit of pocket money to spare. Word of mouth spread quickly, and soon, everyone was talking about her pancakes.
Cheng Jianye heard about it from someone in his dorm.
“There’s a new stall selling sauce-flavored pancakes at the school gate, and they’re incredibly delicious.”
Cheng Jianye hesitated for a moment.
His family was not well-off. His widowed mother had raised him alone, and money was tight. He usually ate the cheapest dishes in the cafeteria.
But his roommate’s description made his mouth water.
When the class bell rang, Cheng Jianye packed up his books and said to Lin Xiuyu, “Xiuyu, I heard there’s a stall selling sauce-flavored pancakes at the school gate that’s especially good. Shall we go try it?”
Lin Xiuyu was packing her schoolbag and didn’t look up. “Sure, let’s go.”
The two walked out of the classroom side by side.