The Hongqi Production Brigade was enveloped in a golden glow in late autumn. Morning dew condensed into translucent pearls on the withered grass along the field ridges. A gentle breeze carried the rich aroma of ripe grains and the crisp scent of vegetables from the garden. Lin Wanqiu stood in her yard, gazing at the ginkgo tree in the corner adorned with golden leaves. Her fingertips gently caressed the jade pendant in her palm, her eyes sparkling brightly. Grandma Shen had been discharged from the hospital for over half a month, and everything at home was going smoothly. Nian'an was engrossed in arithmetic problems every day, while Nianxi pestered Shen Tingzhou to teach her to read and write. The courtyard often echoed with the joyful laughter of three generations. And her long-brewing plan for "intangible cultural heritage food preservation" finally found its opportunity to launch in this crisp autumn season.

"Wanqiu, what are you thinking about?" Shen Tingzhou walked over with a cup of warm honey water. His dark blue Zhongshan suit made him look even more upright, and there was a gentle smile in his eyes. He handed the cup to Lin Wanqiu, his gaze falling on her slightly thoughtful face. "Ever since Mother recovered, you've often been lost in thought like this. Is something bothering you about the food shop?"

Lin Wanqiu took the water glass, the warmth spreading from her fingertips to her heart. She looked up at Shen Tingzhou, a bright smile playing on her lips. "It's not that I'm worried, it's that I'm thinking about something important." She sipped the honey water, the sweet taste melting on her tongue. "These days, taking care of Mother, I've had some free time to think about the future of the food workshop. Although our pastries and pickles are popular now, I always feel like they're missing something. Do you remember the old man selling the time-honored brand of crispy candy that I met when I went to the county town to buy things last time? He said that those old recipes have been passed down for three generations, but now they're almost lost because no one is willing to learn them."

Upon hearing this, a knowing glint flashed in Shen Tingzhou's eyes: "You want to find those traditional food recipes that are on the verge of being lost?"

“Yes,” Lin Wanqiu nodded emphatically, her eyes shining with determination. “Although resources were scarce in the 1960s, we had a lot of culinary wisdom passed down from our ancestors. Those intangible cultural heritage foods are not just about taste, but also about the memories of a generation and the inheritance of a culture. I want to unearth these old recipes, improve them, and make them both suitable for modern tastes and retain their original essence. In this way, our food workshop can not only grow bigger, but also leave something tangible for future generations.”

Shen Tingzhou gently put his arm around her shoulder, his voice steady and strong: "Your idea is excellent, showing both vision and foresight. What do you need me to do? Just tell me."

“I’d like to start with the villages and towns around us.” A sly glint flashed in Lin Wanqiu’s eyes. “Don’t you know a lot of cadres from the communes and brigades? Could you help me find out where there are any old artisans who know how to make traditional food? Like handmade noodles, traditional winemaking, traditional snacks, and the like. I want to visit them and sincerely learn from them.”

“That’s easy,” Shen Tingzhou chuckled. “I’ll go to the commune tomorrow and ask someone to help me find out. But you must be careful while you’re out. If all else fails, I’ll go with you.”

Lin Wanqiu felt a warmth in her heart, leaned on his shoulder, and said softly, "Don't worry, I have supplies from my space, so I won't go hungry or cold. Besides, our food workshop has become quite famous now, so I'm sure those veteran artists won't easily refuse my sincerity."

The next morning, just as dawn was breaking, Lin Wanqiu was ready. She put on a navy blue corduroy jacket, tied a plain apron around her waist, packed some refined flour, sugar, and a few pieces of cured meat from her storage space into a canvas bag, added some commonly used medicines, and prepared to set off. Shen Tingzhou had already cleaned his bicycle, and a small bamboo basket containing breakfast for Nian'an and Nianxi was tied to the back seat.

"Mother, we're leaving now. Please take good care of the children at home, and remember to ask the neighbors to pass on any news if anything happens," Lin Wanqiu said softly as she walked up to Old Lady Shen.

Grandma Shen sat in a rocking chair in the courtyard, covered with a thick blanket, a gentle smile on her face: "Go on, go on, you don't need to worry about me here. Wanqiu, what you're doing is all respectable, and I support you. Just be sure to take good care of yourself while you're away from home, and don't overwork yourself." These days, Grandma Shen had watched Lin Wanqiu manage the household so well and run the food shop so successfully, and her former harshness had long since vanished, replaced by nothing but joy and love.

"I understand, Mother." Lin Wanqiu nodded with a smile, then turned to look at Shen Nian'an and Shen Nianxi. "Nian'an, you are the older brother, so you must take good care of your younger sister, listen to Grandma, and don't be naughty."

"Mom, don't worry, I'll take good care of my sister and grandma." Shen Nian'an straightened her small chest, her eyes firm. "Mom, please be careful when you go out, and come back soon."

Shen Nianxi then threw herself into Lin Wanqiu's arms, hugging her waist, and said softly, "Mother, I will miss you. You must bring me back delicious food."

Lin Wanqiu gently stroked her daughter's soft hair and smiled as she agreed, "Okay, Mom will definitely bring you back some delicious food."

After saying goodbye to her family, Lin Wanqiu pushed her bicycle out of the courtyard gate. The morning sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled shadows on the ground, and the air was filled with the fragrance of earth and the faint scent of cooking smoke. She mounted her bicycle and slowly rode along the country road, the wheels making a soft sound as they rolled over the gravel.

Lin Wanqiu's first stop was the neighboring village of Lijia'ao. According to information Shen Tingzhou had gathered, there was an old man surnamed Li in Lijia'ao who was over seventy years old and a well-known local handmade noodle craftsman. His noodles were as thin as hair, smooth and chewy after cooking, and the soup was fresh and delicious. It was said that his ancestors were once imperial chefs, and the noodle recipe passed down from them had a history of over a hundred years.

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