Chapter 8 008 Summer Luncheon Table
As night fell, at the same time, the "Xingxing Hair Salon" on the same street was deserted.
Apprentice Zhou Hao and another apprentice Wang Lei were playing games on their phones, their blond hair sticking up and down.
Wang Lei hung up first, and out of boredom, he clicked to spectate.
"Hey, where did Xing-ge go?"
Zhou Hao was picking up a sniper rifle and aiming at an enemy a few hundred meters away, without even looking up when he heard this.
"You went to buy food, didn't you?"
Wang Lei said "Oh". There were only three of them in the shop. He and Zhou Hao were both poor students who dropped out of school after the first year of high school. Their families were not comfortable leaving them out in society at that age, so they found Zhou Xing, who ran a hair salon in the same village, to be their apprentice.
They earned a little over a thousand yuan a month, and Zhou Xing prepared a bunk bed for them behind the shop, including room and board.
Zhou Hao and Wang Lei are generally satisfied with their current life. The only thing that's not ideal is that the three of them can't find a single person who is good at cooking.
Zhou Xing is another story. He's been living alone for years, mostly buying food. Zhou Hao and Wang Lei did cook in the countryside, but that was just making noodles or instant noodles. So after making do for a while, Zhou Xing resigned himself to buying all his meals outside.
As time went by, the three of them ate their way through the entire street.
After trying all the local dishes, Zhou Hao and Wang Lei preferred to order takeout. Only Zhou Xing looked at the two young men with a weary expression before turning to find some home-style food on the street.
Wang Lei and Zhou Hao played another game, and finally both felt extremely hungry.
Why hasn't Xing-ge come back yet?
Zhou Hao rubbed his hair: "How about I go out and buy something? He might be chatting with some shop owner again."
Just then, the wind chimes hanging behind the door jingled, and Zhou Xing came in excitedly carrying three lunchboxes.
"You brat, I heard you."
"I'm here to bring you benefits."
Zhou Xing placed the takeout container on the table: "Look what delicious food your brother bought for you guys."
Zhou Hao glanced at him and his forehead was covered in question marks.
"Bro, this is a rice bowl with toppings."
It doesn't look particularly special.
Wang Hao, however, spotted it: "It's claypot rice!"
The golden-yellow rice crust was placed at the bottom of the plastic box, and it wasn't noticeable unless you looked closely.
Zhou Hao muttered, "I don't like eating rice..."
He has loved eating noodles since he was a child, and he always felt that rice was never enough to satisfy his hunger.
Zhou Xing chuckled: "Alright, then we'll split yours between us."
She handed him her phone and said, "Order another bowl of noodles."
Zhou Hao muttered to himself, but didn't think much of it. He took the phone and started scrolling through the food delivery page.
Zhou Xing was happy to be able to eat half a portion more.
"Xiao Lei, let's eat!"
As the lid of the disposable lunchbox was opened, a strong aroma wafted out.
The aroma instantly captivated the three people at the table. Upon closer inspection, the ribs in the lunchbox glistened with oil, the corn and green beans were bright in color, and it seemed as if they had already been drizzled with sauce when they were served. The rice had a dark brown hue and emitted an irresistible fragrance.
Zhou Xing took a deep, intoxicating breath!
This is the taste!
Although it wasn't the same as at noon, the aroma instantly overwhelmed all his senses!
Wang Lei had already silently started breaking the chopsticks.
Zhou Lei was so overwhelmed by the aroma that he stopped looking at his phone and leaned closer hesitantly, trying to make conversation: "Brother Xing, whose family cooked this? It smells so good."
Out of the corner of his eye, Zhou Lei caught a glimpse of Wang Lei taking a big bite, and he wished he could go back to a minute ago.
You're so cheeky!
Saying they don't like rice!
Zhou Xing hurriedly stuffed a large mouthful into his mouth and mumbled, "The Wen family, you know."
"Impossible!" Zhou Hao denied it outright. He'd eaten at the Wen family's house before; their cooking was just average, how could it smell so good?
But seeing Zhou Xing and Wang Lei engrossed in their food, Zhou Hao felt that everything on the food delivery page had lost its flavor.
While he was still hesitating about whether to swallow his pride and eat the rice, Wang Lei had already set his sights on the last remaining box of rice.
"Brother Xing, I'll deduct half first..."
"...Hey, hey, that one's mine!"
Didn't you say you wanted noodles?
"...Who said that? I'm going to eat rice! I love rice!"
None of the three would give in. Suddenly, Zhou Hao snatched the rice and rushed into the inner room.
"I told you I love rice!"
*****
Wen's mother didn't have a moment's rest all night.
The takeout orders came in sporadically, one every ten minutes or so. While she was busy taking orders and handling cashier duties at the store, she also had to communicate with her husband and daughter in the kitchen.
"I'll take away a pork rib rice bowl!"
"One serving of pork ribs with rice, and one serving of pickled peppers!"
"A serving of pork ribs rice, no scallions!"
...
At first, Wen's father was covered in sweat, but later he became numb.
They sold about twenty claypot rice dishes in one night, but the shop only had five clay pots and three stoves.
When Mr. Wen bought the ribs in the afternoon, he was worried he wouldn't be able to sell them all, but as night fell, he forgot all about it and just went about his mechanical tasks. He brushed oil on the bottom of the pot, put in the soaked rice, carefully controlled the heat to let the rice boil and simmer for three minutes, then put the marinated ribs in the pot, arranged corn kernels and green peas around the edge, and drizzled oil along the edge of the pot...
Wearing thick gloves, Wen Fan demonstrated: "This way, you make sure all four sides are cooked through so the rice crust is crispy."
A claypot rice dish is made to order and takes 30 minutes to prepare.
Wen Fan occupied one stove with a large earthenware pot, which could produce three portions at a time. Wen's father watched the two smaller stoves, each person cooking slowly in their own pot.
The claypot rice was served slowly, and the customers in the shop were all getting impatient, but no one left. Besides the customers who had come at noon, there was also Yang Hong, who arrived on time to take it away.
Yang Hong had originally ordered four takeout meals, but Wen's mother said that they might not be able to make them all, so Yang Hong had to settle for one meal for herself.
"Young lady, your shop should have more tableware."
Not only were there few stoves in the kitchen, but there were also few clay pots. While welcoming and seeing off guests, Mother Wen also had to find time to wash the clay pots that had just been brought in.
Wen's mother wiped her sweat: "I'll go buy it tomorrow."
I never expected business to be so good tonight. After serving more than twenty meals, Wen's mother was so busy that her back ached, but she was happy counting the money.
"Twenty-four servings were sold, plus the more than one hundred sold at noon..."
Wen's mother gripped the calculator tightly.
"Six hundred and one!"
Mr. Wen was also somewhat surprised. He had been so focused on the kitchen that evening that he hadn't paid any attention to coming out and had no idea that business was so good today.
Wen's mother's throat was dry. Today's sales alone were equivalent to the three days' sales during the previous few days when business was bad.
The couple looked at each other in disbelief, never expecting their shop to have such a good day.
Wen Fan rubbed his arm and said, "Dad, Mom, claypot rice takes a bit of time. How about we try something different tomorrow?"
Mr. Wen was somewhat stunned. He wasn't very good at business, and his life motto was that hard work leads to wealth. Today's sales were so good, but his daughter said she wouldn't be selling tomorrow. He couldn't react for a moment.
Wen's mother, however, accepted it well: "Actually, I've wanted to say this for a while. It looks like you're earning more, but it's too tiring for you two."
This claypot rice is different from others; just watching the fire is enough to drive you crazy. You might as well stew some beef or pork ribs, at least you don't have to stay in the kitchen in the heat all the time.
Mr. Wen hesitated for a moment: "Then we'll order claypot rice when the guests arrive tomorrow..."
He's always been a nice guy, and he feels guilty if he can't do what he's told when the time comes.
Wen Fan took a bottle of Coke from the refrigerator: "Dad, are you worried about business?"
Mr. Wen felt a little embarrassed. He thought that although his claypot rice was not as good as his daughter's, he had learned about 70-80% of it. Since the kitchen was hard work, he would do it himself.
It's better than Mr. Yuan's life remaining stagnant.
Wen Fan took a sip of his cool beverage and said, seemingly casually, "Claypot rice can still be made, but it can't be at this price anymore."
Cooking for one person in one pot, taking half an hour each time, requires charging a reasonable price for Wen Fan to feel he's not losing money.
besides.
Suddenly, out of the blue, Wen Fan started telling his mother that he had gone to the library that day.
"There are so many kids over there. Their parents order meals online and have them delivered to the library at noon..."
"I think our store's previous strategy was quite good; it allowed for fast table turnover and the ability to prepare in advance."
"I'll make the toppings tomorrow, so my dad will just have to make the claypot rice."
...
Wen's mother was quicker-witted than Wen's father and immediately grasped the key point in her daughter's words.
You said a lot of kids eat lunch at the library?
Wen Fan nodded gently.
Wen's mother remained silent for a long time.
Mr. Wen was completely bewildered: "What kind of riddle are you two playing?"
Wen Fan ignored his father, who was slow-witted, and waited for his mother to speak.
A moment later, Wen's mother's eyes gradually brightened, as if some thick fog had dissipated before her eyes, and she had found the direction to move forward.
"Old Wen, take your daughter to the market tomorrow and prepare plenty of vegetables... You can tidy up the shop, I have something to do!"
Wen's mother was blown away like a gust of wind.
Mr. Wen asked his daughter, somewhat bewildered, "Where did your mother go?"
Wen Fan stretched and said, "I don't know... I'm hungry."
Mr. Wen immediately changed the subject: "Okay, okay, what do you want to eat?"
Wen Fan raised his chin: "Tired, my arms hurt."
Mr. Wen felt sorry for her: "Then Dad will make you something easy to digest?"
Wen Fan said lazily, "Let's just cook some porridge in a clay pot, and steam the remaining ribs."
"We can't just eat this! There are shrimp in the kitchen... how about we boil them?"
Wen Fan hummed in agreement.
For dinner, Wen Fan ate a small bowl of thick rice porridge, along with steamed pork ribs and boiled shrimp.
She had grown accustomed to her former life in the palace. If there was one most vivid mark left on her by her past life as a servant, it would be her dietary habits.
To avoid any sudden orders from his master at night, Wen Fan dared not sleep soundly. He was also careful about his diet, eating only a few dishes at each meal. Over time, by not eating three meals a day at regular times, Wen Fan had developed the habit of not eating or eating very little at night.
The two tidied up the shop quickly and went home.
When Wen's mother returned home under the stars and moon, it was already past midnight.
Mr. Wen stared in disbelief as Mrs. Wen tossed a stack of business cards onto the bedside table.
On the simple white business card were these few lines of text.
[Summer After-School Program - Free delivery within 3 kilometers, meals sent in advance for the next day. Clean, hygienic, healthy and delicious.]
A note from the author:
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