Shen Miao stood there watching them walk away before turning back to tidy up the bowls left by the soldiers who had finished their meals.
The instructor, after pondering over the finished bowl of soup noodles for a moment, unexpectedly took out a piece of broken silver and placed it on the table, saying,
“Keep the change.”
He then called his noisy subordinates to leave.
Shen Miao’s startled heart was immediately soothed by this small piece of silver.
Someone actually paid with silver!
She weighed it in her hand, feeling it was at least one tael, which was almost equivalent to a string of cash!
Her instant noodles with egg and meat sold for eighteen wen a bowl, and this small piece of silver could buy more than fifty bowls.
She quickly tucked it into her bosom, her eyes curving into thin crescents as she enthusiastically saw them off at the door:
“Gentlemen, come again next time! I have many more delicious soup noodles for you to try!”
Her sudden change in attitude made the middle-aged man glance back at her as he mounted his horse.
Shen Miao wasn’t the least bit embarrassed, smiling brightly and waving her handkerchief:
“Ride safely, gentlemen, and have a smooth journey!”
Only a cloud of dust raised by the horse’s hooves answered her.
Shen Miao hummed a tune as she went back to wash the dishes.
After seeing off a few more customers, Shen Miao took the money jar and tallied up the morning’s earnings.
Her shop now offered two types of soup and six types of noodles.
Lamb soup was thirty wen a bowl, and lamb noodles were thirty-five wen, the most expensive.
Instant noodles without meat and egg were twelve wen, and with meat and egg, eighteen wen.
Fried sauce noodles and steamed noodles were twelve wen; mixed noodles were fifteen wen.
Plain dumpling soup was fifteen wen; meat dumpling soup was eighteen wen.
The cheapest was pork bone clear soup noodles at ten wen.
In the morning, she sold twenty-five bowls of instant noodles for four hundred and fifty wen, eight bowls of lamb soup for two hundred and forty wen, three bowls of lamb noodles for one hundred and five wen, sixteen bowls of fried sauce noodles for one hundred and ninety-two wen, and ten bowls of pork bone clear soup noodles for one hundred wen.
Not counting the extra silver from the instructor, her turnover was nearly a string of cash.
In addition, Sister Xiang sold twenty-five baskets of small steamed buns, forty red bean buns, and various other buns and steamed bread in the morning, earning over a string of cash from breakfast.
By midday, she had earned over two strings of cash, which was enough to break even.
Starting tomorrow, she would make more small steamed buns and red bean buns for breakfast, and reduce the quantity of other flavors that didn’t sell as well.
Shen Miao hadn’t expected that her “Lin’an small steamed buns,” named after Hangzhou’s famous buns, would become the best-selling breakfast item on the first day of her small eatery’s operation-twenty-five baskets of small steamed buns were sold out almost instantly.
When Sister Xiang came bouncing in to ask if there were any left, Shen Miao was stunned.
She had thought the red bean buns, which already had a customer base, or the cheap and uniquely filled radish and shrimp skin buns would take the lead, but it turned out to be the small steamed buns she considered “ordinary.”
These small steamed buns were essentially just smaller versions of meat buns.
Bianjing was not short of shops selling meat buns.
From her house, there were four or five shops specializing in “steamed bread,” all selling meat buns cheaper than Shen Miao, usually around five wen for a large meat bun.
Shen Miao’s small steamed buns looked like eight per basket, each with thin skin and generous filling, but the actual cost might be much lower than a large meat bun, as they were very small and couldn’t hold much filling despite the thin skin.
Moreover, making these small steamed buns was much easier than other buns!
No kneading or rolling was required; just mix the flour with water to form a dough, let it rest, and then steam.
To make the skin translucent, just stir-fry half a pound of pork belly with sweet sauce, soy sauce, star anise, and cinnamon to create a fragrant meat sauce, then mix it with raw meat, minced garlic, and scallions.
One pound of meat and one pound of flour could make forty-eight buns, enough for six baskets.
Some unscrupulous vendors would use leftover meat from two or three days ago, adding more garlic and scallions to the filling.
The meat sauce, with its strong spices and minced meat, masked the freshness of the meat, allowing them to produce seven or eight baskets at a very low cost.
But Shen Miao didn’t do this.
Ultimately, she wanted to make delicious, healthy, and popular food, not to make money by compromising her conscience.
Although she earned a few wen less per basket, she felt at ease, which was the long-term way of doing business.
Not only the small steamed buns, but also the meat toppings for the noodles were the same.
Shen Miao never bought leftover meat from Zheng the butcher, and she was very good at selecting meat.Â
The pork belly used for these buns or noodle toppings was always well-marbled, rich in fat but not greasy, just right.
The sun continued to rise, and it was almost noon.
The flow of customers had decreased significantly.
Perhaps because the people of Bianjing mainly ate noodles for their three daily meals, consuming too much carbohydrates, every household loved to take a nap at noon.
Once the sun was high, the streets were not only sparsely populated, but even the shopkeepers and waiters along the street were sleeping soundly, a true depiction of being “drunk on carbs.”
Ji Ge and Sister Xiang were also asleep, and the surroundings were quiet.
Shen Miao, who didn’t like to nap, was bored at noon.
She swept the floor, cleaned the stove, washed another batch of bowls, and then, seeing the good sunlight, washed the two dogs at home.
The little dog and Leitang, who were also napping, were so sleepy that they let Shen Miao scrub them from head to toe with an old loofah, and she even trimmed their fur and nails.
After finishing her chores, Shen Miao reluctantly took a short nap.
She had always been a person with abundant energy in her previous life.
While others needed eight hours of sleep to feel refreshed, she could function like a perpetual motion machine with just five hours of sleep.
Her grandfather used to be exhausted from taking care of her as a child, saying she had endless energy since she was young, and it took two Bulls to tire her out.
Others might see her as tired, but she actually enjoyed it.
Perhaps because she was doing what she loved, such busyness felt sweet rather than exhausting.
Sometimes, when she had free time, she felt a bit uncomfortable.
After the nap, it was still early before dinner, so Ji Ge told Shen Miao he was going to the Lanxin Bookstore to read.
Shen Miao was pleased.
Even though the exam results hadn’t been announced yet, Ji Ge had already developed the habit of reading every day, which would benefit him in the future.
Sister Xiang, the breakfast seller, had also finished her shift.
With the two wen “wages” Shen Miao gave her, she excitedly took the little dog home to find Li Gou’er, to walk the dog and go to the candy shop to buy some sweets.
Since Shen Miao hadn’t thought of a name for the little dog yet, Sister Xiang always called it “Gou’er,” which made Aunt Li very unhappy, feeling that Shen Miao was hinting at something.
A few days ago, Aunt Li angrily packed a bag of sesame seeds and a bag of salt and went to the private school where Li Gou’er studied to ask the old teacher with a goatee to give her son a proper name.
Now Li Gou’er had a new name, Li Bo, but it was hard to remember, and everyone still called him Li Gou’er.
Aunt Gu secretly told Shen Miao yesterday that Aunt Li had complained to the neighbors several times, indignantly saying that since the exam results hadn’t been announced yet, Ji Ge might not get into Piyong Academy.
How could Shen Miao, who had suddenly made a fortune and opened a shop, flaunt herself and make a big deal out of her son’s name?
It was truly despicable!
Shen Miao was really wronged.
She didn’t intentionally name the dog the same as Li Gou’er…
So she was racking her brains to think of a good name for the dog to avoid further misunderstandings.
But the adults’ bickering didn’t affect the friendship between Li Gou’er and Sister Xiang.
Li Gou’er was weak as a child, and Aunt Li treated him like the apple of her eye, not allowing him to go fishing in the river, wander the alleys, or climb trees to get bird eggs.
Later, he was confined to studying.
Only Sister Xiang didn’t mind his frailty and often played house with him in the yard, so they were very close.
Since Sister Xiang came back to live here, Li Gou’er was the happiest person in the alley.
Taking advantage of Shen Miao’s busyness, he often sneaked to the back door to find Sister Xiang and even gave her two rough porcelain dolls made by his father, Li Tiaozi.
They were like nesting dolls, with a smaller one inside, rough yet delicate, now placed on the windowsill in Sister Xiang’s room.
Although Aunt Li grumbled several times, Li Gou’er didn’t think there was anything wrong with Sister Xiang’s dog sharing his name, because Sister Xiang had solemnly announced to him:
This dog is her younger brother, and she finally has a younger sibling!
Now, in the Shen family, Shen Miao was the eldest, Jiguer was second, Leitang was third (Leitang was eight years old), she was fourth, and the little dog was fifth.
So Li Gou’er seriously discussed with Sister Xiang:
“Since it’s your younger brother, then naturally it’s also my sworn younger brother. In the future, I’ll be Big Gou’er, and it can be called Second Gou’er, so when you call ‘Gou’er, we’ll both respond!”
Sister Xiang immediately shook her head:
“Shen Second Gou’er sounds too ugly.”
Li Gou’er was anxious:
“Ugly? How can it be ugly? Do you think my name is ugly too?”
Sister Xiang silently looked at him, her expression hard to describe.
The child was amusing, with a round face, squinting eyes, and a look that said,
“You figure out if your name is nice or not? Do I need to say it?”
Shen Miao, who was picking vegetables nearby, almost choked on her saliva.
Shen Miao wiped the table while thinking about these trivial matters, feeling that life was quite interesting.
She had been too busy before, opening branches, participating in competitions, and inspecting new ingredient factories, as if she had forgotten that life should be like this, whether good or bad, adding different flavors to life like oil, salt, sauce, vinegar, and tea.
Life is full of sour, sweet, bitter, spicy, and salty flavors.
No matter the taste, Shen Miao was willing to embrace and enjoy it in this life.
After wiping the table, Shen Miao stretched and prepared to go to the backyard to water the vegetable garden and feed the chickens.
Just as she stepped in, a tired and timid voice came from the door:
“Is anyone here?”
“Yes, yes.”
Shen Miao hurriedly lifted the curtain from the kitchen and looked out.
Coincidentally, it was the hunched, elderly woman she had seen in the morning, who was neatly dressed despite her aged appearance.
Her graying hair was tied back with a flat wooden hairpin, covered with a cotton cloth with a treasure flower pattern, not a strand out of place.
She was still tightly holding the hand of her simple-minded daughter, who followed her mother closely, like a bird easily frightened when leaving the nest.
The old woman seemed accustomed to the strange looks from others.
After entering, she didn’t mind Shen Miao’s sudden silence but didn’t sit down rashly either.
She first looked around the shop’s furnishings, then examined the clean floor tiles and tables and chairs.
When she looked up again, she was somewhat confused by the menu on the wall.
This shop was strange; there was no eager waiter to announce the dishes, and such a menu was posted.
Could it be that all the customers in her shop were scholars?
The woman regretted coming in.
She had thought the shop’s sign was old and the facade small, so it might not be too expensive.
But since she was already here…
She was illiterate and couldn’t understand the menu on the wall, so she hesitantly asked:
“Madam shopkeeper… Do you… do you have plain soup noodles for four wen a bowl? I only want one bowl, and more… more soup is fine.”
Shen Miao came back to her senses, put away her gaze, and brought two bowls of water to them, smiling:
“Yes, please sit and have some water first, it will be ready soon.”
The old woman breathed a sigh of relief and led her daughter to the most inconspicuous corner to sit down.
After sitting down, she didn’t idle, first placing a handkerchief on her daughter’s collar and rolling up her sleeves.
The daughter let her mother take care of her, occasionally smiling foolishly at her mother.
The old woman then gently reached out and lovingly tucked her daughter’s stray hair behind her ear.
Perhaps because her daughter couldn’t speak much, she had also become accustomed to not speaking.
After that, the mother and daughter waited quietly.
Shen Miao’s shop had plain noodles, but her plain noodles relied on the soup base, which was modeled after Yangchun noodles from Jiangnan, and the cost wasn’t very low.
Why did a bowl of plain noodles originating from Gaoyou, Yangzhou, and Shanghai get the name “Yangchun”?
Actually, it was because October in Jiangnan was called “Little Yangchun,” and gradually “ten” became a metaphor for “Yangchun.”
Therefore, in Yangzhou and other places, Yangchun noodles were sold for ten wen a bowl, hence the name.
So Shen Miao’s pork bone clear soup noodles were also priced at ten wen.
Especially since the wheat flour she used for the noodles was re-sifted from coarse flour, and the meat was good, it was worth the price.
Moreover… not to mention the affluent Jiangnan, even in Bianjing, four wen noodles were hard to find.
Perhaps only in the inns near the outskirts of the city.
Could they be outsiders who came to the city?
Shen Miao speculated while secretly glancing at them.
The old woman took out a small porcelain bottle from her cloth bag, poured out a few small pills, and took them with the water Shen Miao brought.
After taking her own medicine, she took out another bottle from her bag, poured out a few pills, and patiently coaxed her daughter to take them:
“Yu, if you take your medicine obediently, Mom will buy you sugar cake, okay?”
The daughter, however, seemed to see a flood or a beast, shaking her head vigorously:
“No…”
“Take your medicine, and Mom will take you to buy two pieces of malt sugar, okay? Remember? The one that always goes ding-dong, ding-dong.”
The daughter hesitated and reluctantly swallowed the medicine.
Her unique face scrunched up.
Shen Miao quietly withdrew her gaze, picked up two portions of noodles and a few pieces of bok choy from the pot with chopsticks, and turned to a spoonful of pork bone broth as the base for the plain noodles.
Finally, she placed the bok choy on the noodles, added an extra spoonful of meat sauce, sprinkled with scallions, and drizzled with a few drops of scallion oil.
The simple yet fragrant clear soup noodles were ready.
Then, she took an extra bowl from the cabinet.
She put the two portions of noodles into a large bowl and brought it out with a smile:
“Sorry for the wait, the noodles are ready. They’re just out of the pot, very hot. I brought an extra bowl so you can share.”
The old woman, however, was startled by the large bowl of noodles and hurriedly stopped Shen Miao, who was about to leave: