In the evening, the setting sun cast a warm golden glow over Linshui County. Su Ji Eatery was just about to open for the evening service, and Zhou Yunniang was hanging a small wooden sign outside the door that read "Today's Menu"—unlike usual, today at the very bottom of the sign, a new line of small characters had been added in charcoal:
"Yangchun Noodles, three wen."
Hearing someone call her, Zhou Yunniang turned around and saw Old Li, who sold fish at the docks. Smiling, she replied, "Brother Li, what would you like to eat today? We have freshly braised pork, and… noodles." She emphasized the last word.
Old Li peered into the shop. "Is it the noodles you made at noon? That aroma kept me restless all afternoon!"
Zhou Yunniang's eyes lit up. "Brother Li smelled it too? Yes, it's the Yangchun Noodles our Nian He came up with. We're selling them tonight, three wen a bowl. Would you like to try?"
Before she finished speaking, Widow Wang also approached, carrying a basket. Hearing this, she hurriedly said, "Give me a bowl too! I was doing needlework this afternoon, and all I could think about was that aroma. I’ve been craving it!"
"One bowl for me too!" a dockworker who had smelled the fragrance at noon chimed in. "I’ve been craving this since midday!"
Xiucai Xu strolled over, holding an account book, and asked in a refined manner, "Shopkeeper Zhou, does your establishment truly serve noodle soup this evening? Is it the same noodles that emitted such a fragrance at noon?"
"Exactly!" Zhou Yunniang beamed. "Please come in, Mr. Xu. The noodles will be ready soon!"
As she ushered the group inside to sit, she called out toward the kitchen, "Dashan! Nian He! Four bowls of Yangchun Noodles! For Uncle Li, Aunt Wang, Mr. Xu, and this brother here!"
In the kitchen, Su Dashan was taking the proofed dough out of the basin. Without looking up, he replied, "Heard you! Nian He, prepare the broth!"
"Alright!" Su Mo answered crisply, deftly heating the broth, chopping scallions, and preparing the bowls.
As Su Dashan kneaded the dough, he glanced at his daughter’s swift movements out of the corner of his eye, the corners of his mouth lifting almost imperceptibly. He had intentionally prepared extra dough, using his daughter’s technique—applying even pressure with both hands and kneading for an extra quarter of an hour. The dough had proofed for half a day and was now soft and elastic.
"Dad, the broth is hot. Can we start cooking the noodles?" Su Mo asked.
"Start!" Su Dashan slapped the dough onto the cutting board and began rolling it out.
In the kitchen, father and daughter worked in perfect harmony. Su Dashan was responsible for rolling and stretching the noodles. With decades of experience, his skill and strength were evident, producing noodles as fine as silver threads, even more refined than Su Mo’s midday attempt.
Su Mo was in charge of boiling the noodles, seasoning the broth, and assembling the bowls. The water she used was twice-boiled and cooled beforehand. When it reached a rolling boil, she added the noodles, gently stirring them with long chopsticks, timing the heat perfectly. The broth was the same stock from noon, reheated and skimmed of any surface oil, leaving it clear and transparent. Only the tender green parts of the scallions were used, finely and evenly chopped.
"First bowl, ready!"
Zhou Yunniang hurried over to take it, the aroma spreading through the dining area with her steps.
The first bowl was served to Old Li. In the coarse porcelain bowl, the broth was clear and bright, the noodles snowy white, and the scallions a vibrant green, with specks of oil floating like scattered gold on the surface. Steam rose, carrying the rich scent of lard, the mellow aroma of soy sauce, and the fresh fragrance of wheat, wafting straight into one’s nostrils.
Old Li didn’t mind the heat, picking up a mouthful with his chopsticks and taking a bite.
The main hall fell silent instantly. Only the sound of him slurping noodles and his satisfied, muffled sighs could be heard. He ate extremely fast, yet chewed each bite carefully. Fine beads of sweat formed on his forehead, but he didn’t bother to wipe them. One mouthful of noodles, one sip of soup, then another mouthful of noodles. When drinking the soup, he cradled the bowl, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he made a "gulping" sound while swallowing.
Widow Wang watched, swallowing her own saliva: "Old Li, say something already!"
Only after finishing the last drop of soup and turning the bowl upside down did Old Li set it down, letting out a long sigh. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve, his eyes wide open: "Fresh! Damn fresh! The noodles are chewy, and the soup… the soup is indescribable, just comforting! Warms you from the throat all the way down to the belly, makes the whole body feel at ease!"
Just then, Widow Wang and Scholar Xu’s noodles were also served.
Widow Wang first carefully took a sip of the soup, her eyes lighting up, before picking up the noodles. After a couple of bites, she looked up at Zhou Yunniang, exclaiming in delight: "Yunniang, these noodles… they’re absolutely amazing! Light and clear, yet full of flavor! I’ll come again tomorrow morning!"
Scholar Xu had the most refined eating manners. He first observed the color, then smelled the aroma, before using his chopsticks to pick up a few strands, gently blowing on them to cool, and finally placing them in his mouth. He chewed, paused, then chewed again. Then he set down his chopsticks and straightened his collar.
"Marvelous!" he said, shaking his head. "The soup is clear as water, the noodles like silver threads, resilient but not hard, smooth but not sticky. The fragrance of scallions adds the finishing touch, while the oil enhances the freshness. This noodle dish appears simple, yet is profoundly complex. Only one deeply versed in the harmony of water and fire, and the balance of the five flavors, could achieve this. Three coins a bowl is truly a bargain!"
The last bowl belonged to the dockworker. He didn’t say much, simply burying his head in the meal. After finishing, he drank every last drop of the soup, set down the bowl, fished out three copper coins from his pocket, and slapped them on the table: "Worth it! Tomorrow morning, I’ll bring my brothers!"
Zhou Yunniang grinned from ear to ear, collected the money, and refilled tea for everyone.
In the back kitchen, Su Mo heard the commotion in the main hall and smiled. Su Dashan glanced at her and snorted: "What’s there to be proud of? Only four customers."
Despite his words, his hands moved more steadily and swiftly as he pulled the noodles.
That evening, Su Ji Eatery sold a total of twenty bowls of Yangchun Noodles.