Chapter 98 A Steady Flow
Zhao Yidi stood at the restaurant entrance, looking at the English menu printed in the window, a little hesitant.
Xiao Junkai was already waiting inside. When he saw her, he quickly stood up and waved.
“Here!” He was wearing a white shirt today, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and his hair was freshly washed.
Zhao Yidi walked in. There weren't many people in the restaurant. Each table had a small candle lit, swaying gently inside a glass dome.
"Sit down." Xiao Junkai pulled out a chair.
Zhao Yidi sat down and looked around curiously.
The waiter came over and handed over the menu.
Xiao Junkai took it and expertly flipped through the pages: "What do you want to eat? The steak here is pretty good, black pepper. Or how about pasta? Creamy mushroom?"
Zhao Yidi looked at the unfamiliar dish names on the menu and the prices listed after them; even the cheapest pasta cost eighteen yuan.
She pursed her lips: "You order, I'm fine with anything."
"Then... two black pepper steaks, medium-rare," Xiao Junkai said to the waiter, "plus a fruit salad and two glasses of orange juice."
It was a bit quiet while we waited for our food.
Xiao Junkai made conversation: "Is the environment alright? I specifically chose this place."
"Yeah." Zhao Yidi nodded. "It's just... a bit dark."
“That’s called ambiance,” Xiao Junkai laughed. “That’s how it is in Western restaurants.”
The food was served very quickly.
The steak was served on an oval plate, accompanied by a few florets of broccoli, a few slices of carrot, and a small dollop of mashed potatoes.
There were knives and forks next to it; the knife had serrations.
Zhao Yidi imitated Xiao Junkai, holding a fork in her left hand and a knife in her right.
But the beef was difficult to cut; she made a sharp, screeching sound as she slashed it.
The people at the next table glanced over.
Zhao Yidi blushed.
Xiao Junkai quickly said, "It's okay, it's okay, it's always like this the first time."
He cut his portion into small pieces and casually swapped plates with Zhao Yidi, saying, "Eat up."
Zhao Yidi used a fork to pick up a piece and put it in her mouth.
The black pepper flavor was very strong, and the texture of the beef was a bit strange. It wasn't the stewed or stir-fried texture she was used to, and it even had a pinkish tinge in the middle.
She chewed it and whispered, "...It's a little raw."
“This is what medium-rare is like,” Xiao Junkai explained. “Foreigners like to eat it raw.”
Zhao Yidi didn't say anything more and ate silently.
The mashed potatoes were alright, but the broccoli was overcooked and too soft.
She looked at the half-eaten steak left on her plate and realized she couldn't eat any more.
"Are you full?" Xiao Junkai asked, looking at her.
"Hmm." Zhao Yidi put down her fork.
Xiao Junkai glanced at what was left on her plate, then at his own, and suddenly laughed: "Actually... I'm not full either. How about we go somewhere else?"
Ten minutes later, the two sat down at a barbecue stall on the street corner.
This is the familiar world.
A small square table, plastic stools, and the next table is filled with people drinking and playing drinking games, making a deafening noise.
"Boss, twenty skewers of mutton, two kidneys, and two bottles of soda!" Xiao Junkai shouted with great energy.
Zhao Yidi smiled; it was the first truly relaxed smile she had tonight.
The lamb skewers arrived, with a good balance of lean and fatty meat, and sprinkled with a generous amount of chili powder and cumin.
Zhao Yidi picked up a skewer, took a bite, and found it fragrant, spicy, and hot – just the taste she was used to.
"This is still tastier, isn't it?" Xiao Junkai's mouth was also full of oil.
"Hmm." Zhao Yidi nodded, then picked up another skewer. "Western food... is too expensive, and it's not filling."
"It was my oversight," Xiao Junkai said, scratching his head. "I was just thinking of letting you try it out."
"It's nothing," Zhao Yidi said, looking at him. "Thank you."
The two ate and chatted, talking about high school class assignments, summer homework, and trivial matters at home.
After finishing his soda, Xiao Junkai went to ask for two more bottles.
A gentle breeze wafted by, carrying the smoky aroma of barbecue and the simple joy of youth.
After they had eaten and drunk their fill, Xiao Junkai took Zhao Yidi home.
He grilled another thirty skewers of lamb and ten skewers of chicken wings, wrapped in oil paper and carried in a plastic bag.
“For Yizhen, Yibao, and Xiaogai,” he said.
By the time I got home, it was already completely dark.
Wen Xiaogai was lying on the living room floor playing with building blocks when she saw them come back. Her nose twitched first: "Meat!"
Yi Zhen and Yi Bao also ran out of the room.
Xiao Junkai placed the plastic bag on the table: "Here, some barbecue skewers."
"Wow! Brother Kai is so nice!" Wen Xiaogai rushed over, but Yibao grabbed her by the back of her collar: "Go wash your hands!"
The three children went to wash their hands with great joy.
Xiao Junkai stood at the door and said to Zhao Yidi, "Then I'm going back."
"Okay, be careful on the road." Zhao Yidi saw him to the door.
Xiao Junkai got on his bicycle, turned around and waved, then disappeared into the night.
Inside the house, Wen Xiaogai was already eating, his mouth glistening with oil.
When Ma Chunying came out of the kitchen and saw this scene, she frowned and said, "Xiao Gai, you ate so much meat tonight. You can't digest it. You'll have indigestion again tomorrow."
Wen Xiaogai protected the meat skewers in her hand: "Aunt Ma, just a few skewers..."
"Not even a few skewers," Ma Chunying reached out to take some. "We'll eat them tomorrow."
Wen Xiaogai darted up behind Zhou Lanying and cried out, "Grandma! You need to do something about Aunt Ma!"
Zhou Lanying, who was wearing reading glasses and sewing buttons, looked up and said with a smile, "Aunt Ma is right, we shouldn't eat too much at night."
Wen Xiaogai was dumbfounded.
Zhao Yidi walked over and patted her younger brother's head: "Did you hear that? Grandma said Aunt Ma is right."
Wen Xiaogai looked at this and that, pouted, but still obediently handed the meat skewers to Ma Chunying.
Ma Chunying took it and put it in the refrigerator: "We'll heat it up and eat it tomorrow."
The next morning, Wu Jia's husband, Hu Wanlin, came to the store to deliver clothes to her.
He was a man in his forties, not very tall, but with broad shoulders, and he walked with his back ramrod straight.
He carried a canvas bag, entered the store, smiled at Wu Jia, took out several neatly folded clothes from the bag, and handed them to Wu Jia, saying, "It's getting hot, so I brought you some light clothes."
Wu Jia took the clothes, a smile on her face, but her eyes were full of reproach: "You still know how to come back? It's been two months."
"Something came up and I was held up." Hu Wanlin didn't say much, then took out a small paper packet from his bag. "These are some snacks I bought for you."
Wu Jia took it, saying, "Alright, you can go about your business now."
Hu Wanlin waved to her, then turned and left.
With steady steps, his figure quickly disappeared around the street corner.
Zhao Fei happened to be coming downstairs and saw this scene. He casually asked, "Sister Wu, what does your husband do for a living? He looks very energetic."
While folding clothes, Wu Jia said, "Him? He doesn't do any job, he's just a martial arts fanatic."
"A martial arts fanatic?" Zhao Fei became interested.
"Yes, I practice martial arts," Wu Jia said casually, as if commenting on the nice weather.
“When I was young, I taught Sanda at a sports school. Later, I quit and started to figure things out on my own. I would spend half the year traveling around, going to Shaolin Temple and Wudang Mountain, looking for people to spar with. I was happy when I won and happy when I lost, saying that I had learned new moves.”
Zhao Fei was surprised: "There are people like that?"
“Absolutely.” Wu Jia shook her head. “He doesn’t care about things at home, and he doesn’t take care of the children much either. When I talk to him about it, he just says that practicing martial arts is his destiny. Oh well, let him be.”
Zhao Fei said to Wu Jia, "The cannery is short of security guards. I see your husband is a trained fighter. Go home and ask him if he'd like to work for me."
Wu Jia was stunned for a long time after hearing this.
“Mr. Zhao,” she said a little embarrassedly, “is a man who… is used to being wild and can’t sit still.”
"The security guards don't have to sit all the time," Zhao Fei laughed. "They can just walk around the factory, keep an eye on things, and take the night shift. As long as they're conscientious and responsible, that's enough."
Wu Jia: "Then...then I'll ask him when I get back tonight. If he's willing, I'll have him come to see you."
When Wu Jia got home that evening, she told Hu Wanlin about it.
Hu Wanlin was practicing boxing in the yard, shirtless, his muscular body glistening in the moonlight.
After hearing his wife's words, he stopped what he was doing, wiped his sweat, and asked, "Security guard? Guarding the gate?"
"Hmm." Wu Jia placed the food on the table. "Boss Zhao's cannery has just been built and he's hiring security guards. The monthly salary is quite good, and lunch is included. It's better than you running around all over the world."
Hu Wanlin sat down, picked up his bowl, ate a couple of mouthfuls of rice, and said nothing.
"You don't want to?" Wu Jia looked at him.
“It’s not that I’m unwilling,” Hu Wanlin said slowly, chewing his food. “I can’t stand being idle. I’d be uncomfortable sitting in the gatehouse all day long.”
“Then you can patrol the factory area,” Wu Jia said, putting some food on his plate. “Besides, you’re over forty. How many more years can you work? You need a stable job. Your child is about to start junior high school, and there will be many expenses.”
Hu Wanlin ate his meal in silence.
After a long while, he put down his bowl and said, "Okay. I'll give it a try."
Wu Jia breathed a sigh of relief: "Then I'll talk to Boss Zhao tomorrow."
"Hmm." Hu Wanlin got up, walked into the courtyard, and got into a fighting stance again.
Under the moonlight, the sound of fists and kicks whistling through the air seemed like a compromise, yet also like another beginning.
The next day, Wu Jia told Zhao Fei the news.
Zhao Fei nodded: "Have him come to the factory to see me tomorrow, I'll check him out."
That's settled.
Wen Xiaoxiao and Han Manjuan are back; the goods will arrive in a few days.
The two of them first tidied up the newly rented warehouse, and then together with Wu Jia, they hung up the sample clothes and sent them out.
Clothing store owners came one after another to stock up on goods.
Their clothing wholesale business is booming.
Xiao Junkai and Zhao Yidi occasionally do their homework together, and occasionally go to the library together; their youth quietly blossoms in the summer.
On the morning Hu Wanlin reported to the cannery, he wore a faded old military uniform, his hair was shaved short, and his back was ramrod straight.
When Zhao Fei saw him in his office, he asked, "Can you drive?"
"Yes," Hu Wanlin answered readily.
Can you read?
"Junior high school graduate."
Zhao Fei nodded and took out a form from the drawer: "Fill this out. You'll start work tomorrow, mainly responsible for night patrols. The factory equipment is expensive, so we can't afford any accidents."
"Understood." Hu Wanlin took the pen and bent down to fill it out.
His characters are written very large, each stroke powerful and penetrating the paper.
After filling out the form, Zhao Fei took him for a tour of the factory area.
"You've never worked in a factory before, have you?" Zhao Fei asked.
"No," Hu Wanlin said. "I've been out and about all the time."
"Then let's start now." Zhao Fei patted him on the shoulder. "Do a good job."
Hu Wanlin nodded.
When he returned home in the evening, Wu Jia had already prepared dinner.
The child was doing homework when he saw him come back and called out "Dad".
Hu Wanlin grunted in agreement and went to wash his hands.
During the meal, he suddenly said, "The factory... is quite big."
Wu Jia looked up at him.
Hu Wanlin shoveled a mouthful of rice into his mouth. "I'm working the night shift tomorrow, so I won't be coming home tonight."
"Okay." Wu Jia served him soup. "Be careful tonight."
Hu Wanlin took the soup bowl, the steam blurring his vision.
He lowered his head and drank the soup in large gulps.
Outside the window, night has fallen.
This man, who had spent half his life obsessed with martial arts, began his first formal job on this ordinary summer night.
Summer's hottest time has arrived, and cicadas are chirping incessantly in the trees.
The cannery machines started running, and the first batch of canned pork had rolled off the production line.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com