“What kind of meals do you have here? Do they really contain meat?” The burly man, named Song San, lived in Sanjiang Village of Qingshui County. Having just finished the busy farming season, he came to the dock every day to carry goods and earn some silver. Like others, he usually brought his own meals, but today his wife had gotten up late and hadn’t prepared lunch, so he planned to casually buy two steamed buns to fill his stomach.
Just as he arrived, he heard the young woman’s calls, which immediately caught his attention. Meals? One meat dish and one vegetable dish? From the sound of it, she was selling full meals?
It was worth noting that almost all vendors at the dock sold flatbreads or wontons—hardly anyone sold proper meals.
Although the young woman said it cost ten coins per portion, which was somewhat expensive, her emphasis on “large portions that fill you up” and “includes meat” completely captured Song San’s attention.
He hadn’t eaten meat in a long time. With five growing boys at home—each with a bottomless stomach—the family managed to avoid starvation only because he was strong and took on any available work.
Ten coins per portion was indeed a bit pricey, but Song San decided it would be acceptable if there was plenty of meat. He could eat the vegetables and save the meat to share with his family later.
Meanwhile, Su Li, seeing a customer approach, quickly lifted the lid covering the meals and explained, “Today’s vegetable dish is braised eggplant with beans, and the rice is Hong Shu Fan. We use our own sweet potatoes—they’re exceptionally sweet… As for the meat dish, we have Huobao Feichang—spicy, sour, and incredibly appetizing…”
“Hey, sir, don’t leave…”
Before Su Li could finish her introduction of the Feichang, the man in front of her turned and walked away without hesitation.
Just as she had anticipated, as soon as people heard the dish was made from pork intestines, those with better manners simply left, while those with worse tempers would curse before departing.
“What should we do?” Su Tao and Chen Shi, no longer shy, watched as groups of customers inquired only to leave immediately. Their faces were filled with anxiety.
Su Li, observing the stream of customers who asked but didn’t stay, felt equally uncertain. After a moment of silence, she began calling out again. This time, however, when someone approached, she deliberately scooped some Feichang into a bowl for them to sample.
In truth, if this were in the county town, people would likely refuse to even try the Feichang for free. But here at the dock, most laborers came from poor families. Seeing that they could sample the dish, many were willing to give it a taste.
Among them was Song San, who had circled the area without finding anything satisfactory to eat.
He had originally intended to buy two steamed buns, but then he saw the bun vendor wipe his nose with the steaming cloth, unfold it, and continue using it. Song San instantly lost his appetite and resolved to warn his fellow villagers working alongside him to avoid that bun stall at all costs.
With buns off the table, Song San went to a wonton shop. He learned that a bowl of wontons cost six coins but contained only ten small dumplings—hardly enough to fill him up—and the meat inside was minuscule, likely smaller than a booger. Only a fool would pay for that, he thought; with that money, he could buy two liang of meat instead.
As Song San wrestled with what to eat, he found himself back at Su Li’s stall. This time, however, he noticed the young woman offering samples in a bowl, which once again drew his interest.
“How is it? Stinky?” A meddlesome onlooker nearby watched the sampler while trying to stir up trouble.
But who would have thought the sampler wouldn’t speak for a long while, and when he finally did, his first words were, “I couldn’t taste it properly. Let me have another bite.”
However, Su Li withdrew the bowl. “Sir, samples are limited.”
The sampler didn’t understand what “limited” meant, but he roughly grasped that he could only have one bite. He pouted and said, “I haven’t really tasted it yet. Give me some more.”
At this point, the surrounding crowd caught on—it seemed the taste was actually decent? So some bold onlookers stepped forward and said, “Let me try it.”
The newcomer was named Zhu Si, the fourth child in his family. Unlike the others, he worked pulling boats at the Ma Tou and wasn’t just unafraid of eating offal—he particularly loved the flavor. Every time someone in the village slaughtered a pig, he’d take the offal home, clean it up, and eat it. So Zhu Lao Si knew well that if offal was prepared right, it could be even more delicious than meat!
But he never told anyone that—if he did, he wouldn’t get to eat it anymore.
Such a treasure had to be kept to himself! Heh heh!
Hearing this, Su Li handed the bowl to the lean, wiry man in front of her and let him pick a piece. Zhu Lao Si took the chopsticks, examined the contents carefully, and deliberately selected what he thought was the largest piece of Feichang to put in his mouth.
!
?
!?
This flavor…
The moment it entered his mouth, he was hit by the fragrant spiciness. Upon closer taste, there was a hint of pickled pepper’s sourness mixed with the numbing sensation of Sichuan pepper—surprisingly delicious. And somehow, the intestine was incredibly crisp and springy. Could intestine really be made this tasty?
Zhu Lao Si was momentarily stunned. He had previously been quite proud of himself for finding a way to remove the stench from intestine, but it turned out there was always someone better. This was the work of a true master—not a trace of unpleasant odor.
“Zhu Lao Si, is it good?” someone in the crowd who knew him called out loudly.
Zhu Lao Si was reluctant to swallow, and after a moment he said wistfully, “It’s damn good. You’ll know once you try it.”
Hearing this, that person pushed through the crowd to sample it as well.
After tasting it, he seemed almost in disbelief, his eyes wide. “Ten coins, right? Give me a portion.”
Zhu Lao Si clearly hadn’t expected his usually frugal companion to be willing to spend ten coins on this. Just as he hesitated whether to buy a portion himself, he saw Su Li deftly scoop a bowl of Hong Shu Fan, top it with eggplant and beans, and then add a generous, heaping spoonful of Feichang.
So much!?
Zhu Lao Si was dumbfounded. With Feichang this delicious, he had assumed the portion would be small.
It’s such a large serving?
At that, Zhu Lao Si didn’t hesitate any longer and quickly said, “I’ll have a bowl too.”
After speaking, as if afraid someone would beat him to it, he hurriedly pulled out his purse, counted out ten coins, and handed them to Su Li.
Su Li took them and passed them to the stunned Chen Shi, then served another bowl for the person in front of her.
“Load it up with lots of Feichang, and yes, give me some of that sauce too.”
Zhu Lao Si loved nothing more than sauce mixed into his rice. When the sauce soaked into the grains, absorbing the dish’s aroma, each mouthful was incredibly satisfying. The more he thought about it, the hungrier he got—his mouth was practically watering.
Seeing two customers make purchases, the initially hesitant bystanders cast aside their doubts and eagerly requested samples. Once they tasted the food, one after another they ordered bowls for themselves. Only one or two, perhaps due to lack of funds or other reasons, turned away—though even they spread the word to companions about a stall selling Feichang with no odd odor at all, declaring it incredibly delicious!
Of course, those who heard such praises dismissed it as the ramblings of people unaccustomed to fine food, mistaking this “filthy ingredient” for a heavenly delicacy.
Song Laosan watched from the back as five or six people continuously bought and ate the meal, his resolve finally crumbling. Especially since the lid was lifted, the aromatic and spicy scent of Feichang had been wafting out, unbearably tempting. Despite the sweltering heat dampening his appetite, the fragrance stirred his hunger.
“Um, I’ll have a portion too,” Song Laosan awkwardly stepped forward, expecting the young woman to show displeasure. Instead, he heard a cheerful, “Right away, sir! Please wait a moment.”
This made him even more embarrassed, recalling how he’d walked away mid-sentence earlier.
“Sir, I’ve added extra broth for you,” Su Li handed him a generously filled bowl.
“Thank you,” Song Laosan accepted the bowl with gratitude and joined the others squatting nearby to eat.
Now it was Su Li’s turn to feel apologetic. In their rush with her mother Chen Shi, they hadn’t managed to provide tables and chairs, forcing customers to find spots to eat.
It wasn’t intentional neglect—their household furniture was too bulky for a stall. They needed smaller, preferably foldable pieces. While foldable items were out of the question in this era, compact versions were feasible, like the dumpling stall owner’s portable setup nearby.
But that would have to wait until Su Li’s grandparents returned, as only Grandpa Su Laotou could handle carpentry.
“Fifth Girl, is this real?” Chen Shi stashed the earnings, disbelief coloring her voice.
The scene before her felt dreamlike. She’d thought selling five bowls would be an achievement, yet they’d sold twelve, earning 120 copper coins. Clutching the warm coins, her hands trembled, fearing they’d slip away if she loosened her grip.
“Mother, it’s real,” Su Li smiled, relief softening her features.
Among the three sisters, Su Li resembled Su Fu more. Though less radiant than Su Tao, she possessed a unique charm—what modern folks might call a “top-tier innocent beauty” vibe. Currently too thin to be striking, she’d blossom into remarkable beauty in time.
Hearing this, Chen Shi pinched her palm hard, confirming it wasn’t a dream. Unbidden moisture welled in her eyes, which she blamed on the scorching sun.
Meanwhile, Su Tao buzzed with excitement, handling so much silver firsthand for the first time.