Chapter 45 Grandpa Wang's Attack
“The nurses told me yesterday that she was observed in the ICU overnight and was just transferred to a regular ward this morning.” Su Yingxue pointed to the end of the corridor. “I told Grandpa Hou about this yesterday, and he specially asked the chef to make pigeon soup this morning, saying it would nourish your mother when she wakes up.” She paused, then took a plastic bag from her canvas bag. “These are the payment slips and medicine boxes you left behind. I asked the head nurse for you—the cost of emergency treatment for diabetic coma can be covered by government major illness subsidies, and your mother's case can be reimbursed for 70%.”
The young man trembled as he took the plastic bag, then suddenly knelt on the ground with a thud. Su Yingxue hurriedly helped him up, saying, "Don't do this!" But he grabbed her clothes tightly, "Sister... my name is Qian Xiaochuan, my mother's name is He Xiuyu..." When he looked up, his eyes were red-rimmed, "If it weren't for your steamed buns yesterday... I really don't know what stupid thing I would have done..."
The ward door was suddenly pushed open, and Hou Defa, accompanied by a caregiver carrying a thermos, squeezed in: "Hey! You're Qian Xiaochuan!" He plopped down on the edge of the bed, placing a steaming bowl of pigeon soup on the bedside table. "Here! Qian Xiaochuan, have some soup." He turned to Su Yingxue and winked, "I just heard that this kid was squatting outside the nurses' station at five this morning, insisting on seeing the person who saved his life."
Qian Xiaochuan wiped away the tears on his face and pulled a crumpled piece of paper from under his pillow: "This is the list of cigarettes and snacks I stole from the convenience store yesterday, totaling 327.4 yuan." He pushed the paper in front of Su Yingxue, "I will definitely pay this money back! My mom said she can take on handicraft work, I... I can go to a construction site to carry bricks! I will definitely pay you back."
"Pah!" Hou Defa slapped the list. "Who asked you to pay me back?" He pulled out his bank card from his pocket and slapped it next to him. "Old Hou, I have plenty of money. Take it and buy your mother's medicine!" Seeing Qian Xiaochuan's eyes widen as he tried to refuse, he quickly added, "But there's a condition—you have to learn to do legitimate business with me! Our Hou Tu Group can use you."
Su Yingxue laughed out loud: "Old Hou, are you looking to hire people to do things?"
“That’s right!” Hou Defa slapped his thigh, turned to look at Qian Xiaochuan, and his eyes suddenly became serious. “But Qian Xiaochuan, you have to promise me one thing first—if you’re hungry in the future, come find this old man, or find Xiao Su. Don’t do anything foolish again! Stealing is the most despicable thing.”
Qian Xiaochuan kowtowed heavily: "I swear!" When he looked up, tears fell onto the hospital bill, spreading out a wet patch. "I dreamt of my mother last night. I remember it was when I was little, she steamed brown sugar buns for me... saying that when I got better, she would personally make chive and egg dumplings for me... my mother..."
In the corridor outside the ward, a tall policeman and a short policeman were walking by carrying breakfast. The short policeman suddenly stopped: "Hey, Old Chen, can you smell that? The steamed buns in this hospital smell even better than those in our cafeteria!"
The tall policeman took a deep breath: "That's right... Let's go buy two more of the three-delicacy buns! Remember to bring a hot one for Qian Xiaochuan—that kid has finally found the right path! I have to say, these more expensive buns taste really good. Bring two more with my colleague Lao Liu too."
In the morning light, white steam slowly rose from the steamer, filling the ward with the aroma of steamed buns. Qian Xiaochuan held a bowl of hot porridge, watching Su Yingxue and Hou Defa busy around him, and for the first time felt—that being alive could truly be warm.
In the late-night diner.
The steam from the steamer still lingered in the cafeteria. Su Yingxue was tiptoeing to place the last basket of three-delicacy buns on the steamer when she was suddenly startled by a series of hurried footsteps and turned around. Grandpa Wang was holding a gleaming bamboo rolling pin, followed by a middle-aged man wearing a silver chef's hat. The man's sleeves were rolled up high, revealing bulging muscles in his forearms. He was also holding a gleaming stainless steel spoon, which he banged against the iron basin, making a "clanging" sound. He looked like a general going to battle.
"Su Yingxue!" Grandpa Wang slammed his hand on the table, making the teacups jump. "I challenge you to a contest!" Chef Zhao, standing behind him, stepped forward, his eyes narrowing under his hat brim, his gaze sweeping over the plump white buns in the steamer like a knife. "Young lady, listen to the rules—" A spoon clattered on the cutting board. "It's a bun contest! Pork, scallion, and three-delicacy fillings, made on the spot, forty minutes only, judged by the hospital cafeteria aunties and the on-duty doctor! The winner stays here forever; the loser packs their bags and gets out!"
The dozing aunties in the cafeteria were suddenly jolted awake. Hou Defa appeared out of nowhere and grabbed Su Yingxue's shoulder: "Old Wang, what's wrong with you now?" He glanced at the chef's hat, "Isn't this Chef Zhao from 'Fumanlou' on Zhongshan Road? What's he doing causing trouble here?"
Chef Zhao sneered, pulling open his collar to reveal his name tag: "Old Wang is my junior apprentice. His apprentice is doing business here and stealing our business. Can I just ignore it?" He pointed his chopsticks at the steamer, "Let's have a contest with steamed buns! Pork, scallion, and three-delicacy fillings, the dough and fillings will be made on the spot. Forty minutes only, judged by the hospital cafeteria ladies and the on-duty doctors!"
Looking at Grandpa Wang's gray hair and then at Chef Zhao's arrogant expression, Su Yingxue suddenly smiled: "Alright, deal." She turned around, took out an apron from her canvas bag, and tied it on. "But let me make this clear—if you lose, you have to promise me one thing."
"What is it?" Chef Zhao raised an eyebrow.
"Don't bully the snack vendors again." Su Yingxue blinked. "Everyone has their own struggles."
Chef Zhao paused for a moment, then burst into laughter: "This little brat's got some guts! Fine, if you lose, not only will I kick you out, but I'll also treat you to a Manchu Han Imperial Feast!" He flicked his sleeves, "Ready—Go!"
Round 1: Kneading the dough
Chef Zhao swung his arms and poured out five pounds of flour in one go, then poured in warm water with a "whoosh," stirring it vigorously with his chopsticks. The cafeteria ladies nearby craned their necks to watch, whispering among themselves, "Wow, this chef really has style!"
Su Yingxue, however, proceeded unhurriedly, scooping out three bowls of all-purpose flour and adding warm water spoonful by spoonful, slowly stirring with chopsticks until it formed clumps. "Kneading dough should be like coaxing a child," she murmured softly, "You can't rush it." Her kneading movements seemed gentle, but the dough gradually became smooth as jade, feeling like a breathing cloud when held in her hands.
Grandpa Li secretly nudged Hou Defa: "That girl's technique is just like Old Yue's back in the day!" Hou Defa smiled, his eyes narrowing: "She has a recipe, what do you know, old man?"
Twenty minutes later, Chef Zhao's dough was ready. It slammed onto the work surface with a loud "thump," sounding like a hard rock. He glanced smugly at Su Yingxue's dough: "Can something so soft and mushy taste good?" Su Yingxue didn't reply. She simply pressed the dough gently, and it bounced back slowly like a spring, its surface gleaming faintly.
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