Winter grew colder with each passing day.
Especially in the early morning and evening, when the wind cut through the alleys and halls, striking faces like tiny knives.
At the Water Cabinet Street stalls, steaming hot buns would lose their warmth in moments, blown cold by the wind. Customers hunched their shoulders, hurriedly buying and leaving.
Even bundled in thick coats, little Su Mingyue and Su Mingyao’s cheeks were constantly flushed, their small hands icy.
“Sis, a few ladies said their buns had cooled by the time they got home today,” Su Mingxuan reported, rubbing his hands to warm them while exhaling white puffs into the evening air.
Scholar Su marked the last entry in the ledger, then lifted his head, worry creasing his face as he gazed at the leaf-shedding locust tree outside the window. “Winter in Bianjing is harsh. Our open-air stall… I’m afraid it won’t last long.”
Running a street stall was never a long-term plan.
The next day, after sending her younger siblings to the stall, Su Qingyan wandered near Water Cabinet Street.
Her steps finally stopped at a corner diagonally opposite Liu Sanniang’s bakery.
It was a perfect location.
At the intersection of two narrow alleys, foot traffic was high. Thanks to the adjacent high walls, it formed a natural windbreak. Small, roughly two zhang square, with level ground, the space had been used to store odds and ends but now stood cleared and empty.
Most importantly, it was not far from Lin Po Po’s drink stall, and reasonably close to the Imperial Academy—perfect for capturing all her current customers.
“Qingyan girl, you’ve set your eyes on this spot?”
Lin Po Po had quietly wheeled over her drink cart, her murky eyes gleaming with understanding.
“Do you know whose land this is?” Su Qingyan asked directly.
“What luck,” Lin Po Po said, wiping her hands on a cloth and lowering her voice. “This plot, along with the few shops next to it, belongs to Old Zhang—the black-faced old man who buys four buns from your family every day.”
Immediately, Su Qingyan recalled that stern, serious-faced regular customer who never smiled but always cleaned his plate.
So it was him!
“Old Zhang is cold in face but warm in heart—a reasonable man. This land was previously rented to a peddler who eventually moved on after growing their business. It’s been empty ever since. If you really want it, I can speak to him for you. He’ll agree,” Lin Po Po assured, patting her chest.
“Thank you, Po Po,” Su Qingyan said, bowing in gratitude.
That very noon, Lin Po Po led Su Qingyan to Old Zhang, who was chopping firewood in his backyard.
Just as Lin Po Po had described, he spoke little but looked solid and reliable.
Su Qingyan got straight to the point, stating her intention to rent the corner and set up a small eatery.
“Three hundred wen per month,” Old Zhang said without looking up, the axe splitting a piece of wood with a crisp crack.
For Water Cabinet Street, this wasn’t cheap, but not overly expensive either.
“Done,” Su Qingyan agreed immediately. She reached into her pouch and took out a pre-prepared string of copper coins and a small piece of silver, placing them on the stone mill. “Po Po said the minimum rental term is six months. Here’s eighteen hundred wen—six months’ rent, paid in full.”
Old Zhang paused his chopping.
He finally gave the girl, famed for her capabilities, a proper look.
Thin in frame, but with clear eyes, decisive and straightforward, with none of the timidness of a young girl. Paying six months upfront showed guts and confidence beyond that of ordinary vendors.
“You’re a straightforward one,” Old Zhang said, setting down his axe and wiping his rough hand on his apron. “Alright, the land’s yours.”
Just as Old Zhang was about to fetch the lease, a sharp, anxious voice came from the gate:
“Uncle Zhang! Wait! I’ll pay three hundred fifty wen per month for that land!”
Liu Sanniang burst in like a gust of wind, smiling falsely but eyes fixed on Su Qingyan, full of envy and malice. She had watched Lin Po Po bring Su Qingyan into Old Zhang’s yard, and alarm bells rang. She quickly found out the empty corner was her target!
If the Su family took root here, would Liu’s bakery even survive?
Old Zhang furrowed his brow, glancing at Liu Sanniang and then at Su Qingyan, saying nothing.
Believing she had swayed him, Liu Sanniang added, “Four hundred wen! Uncle Zhang, I’ll pay four hundred per month! Six months in advance!”
An extra hundred per month—six hundred over six months! Not a small sum.
Su Qingyan remained calm, watching Old Zhang, waiting for his decision.
After a moment, Old Zhang grinned, showing yellow teeth, pointing at Liu Sanniang and saying in a deep, gravelly voice:
“Liu Sanniang, do you think I’m a fool?”
“Your buns are stiff and greasy—hard to eat. The Su girl’s buns are soft, the filling savory. Even my picky grandson can eat two at once! I’d rent you the land and let you keep scheming to ruin her, and I’d have to watch your shop every day, unable to eat? No!”
He paused, picking up the heavy string of coins, weighing them in his hand.
“Though I like money, I know right from wrong. This land, I said I’d rent to Su girl—it goes to Su girl!”
Without looking at Liu Sanniang’s face, already purple with rage, he went inside, fetched the lease, and signed and sealed it with Su Qingyan on the spot.
Liu Sanniang stood there, trembling with fury, pointing at Su Qingyan, stammering “You… you…” but unable to speak a word, eventually stomping off in defeat.
With the land secured, Su Qingyan finally felt at ease.
That evening, at the family meeting, she didn’t rush to calculate potential profits. Instead, she spread out a rough sketch she had drawn after a sleepless night.
“Father, Mother, look,” she said, pointing at the paper. “Our shop can’t be like the others, hiding the kitchen behind a front.”
“What do you mean?” Wang Shi asked, leaning in curiously.
“We’ll reverse it,” Su Qingyan’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “The kitchen will be fully visible to all customers!”
She traced the layout on the paper. “Here, we’ll build a half-human-high brick counter for taking money and holding buns. Behind it is the kitchen—stove, chopping board, steamers—all out in the open. Washing, kneading, and making buns while customers line up outside, watching everything clearly!”
“This… can it work?” Wang Shi hesitated. “Exposing all the kitchen tools and mess—won’t it look chaotic?”
Scholar Su stroked his beard, understanding her idea, full of praise. “No, it’s brilliant!”
He explained to the family, “Bianjing customers value ‘freshness’ above all. That’s why tea masters perform in front of patrons, why chefs carve fish in the dining hall—to show the cleanliness and care in the food they serve. Qingyan’s method tells everyone: every grain, every leaf, is clean and impeccable! No fear of being watched. This convinces more than any shouting ever could.”
Su Qingyan nodded firmly. “Father’s right! This is called a ‘visible kitchen.’ We’ll make ours the first in all of Bianjing!”
This novel and daring plan excited the whole family.
The next morning, at first light, the corner of Water Cabinet Street rang with the sound of hammering and chiseling.
Su Qingyan had hired the construction crew Old Zhang recommended, who carried chisels, axes, and saws, leveling the ground and building the stove according to her sketch.
The commotion immediately drew a crowd.
“Hey, the Su family is opening a shop?”
“My goodness, putting the kitchen outside? What’s the rule for that?”
“This little girl is clever!”
From across the street in Liu’s bakery, Liu Sanniang clenched a just-baked bun, watching the bustling construction, jealousy raging so intensely her eyes nearly caught fire.