Chapter 39 is resolved.
Su Yingxue was taken aback, then briefly explained the whole story: "Someone took photos without my knowledge and edited them. Now the cafeteria entrance is packed with people, and I'm really annoyed."
There was a two-second silence on the other end of the phone, but Hou Yiming's voice remained calm: "I understand. Come down in half an hour, and the shop will open as usual. I'll have someone come and pick up Grandpa's Fuding sliced meat soup later—by the way, he said he wanted extra meat in it."
Su Yingxue was stunned: "Huh? But given the current situation..."
"I'll handle it," Hou Yiming said succinctly, and hung up the phone.
Su Yingxue stood in the hospital room, clutching her phone, looking out at the packed cafeteria. Suddenly, she felt a lump in her throat. All she wanted to do was cook a hot meal; how had it all turned into such a mess?
Just as she turned to go back to the ward to say a few more words to her grandmother, her phone rang again—this time it was the hospital office. She answered and heard the hospital director's booming voice: "Xiao Su, please hold on for another half hour! The hospital has just made a decision to clear the area immediately!"
Twenty minutes later, a miracle happened.
A dozen security guards suddenly rushed out from the small doors on both sides of the cafeteria, holding megaphones: "Please leave immediately if you are not a member of the public! Only patients and their families are allowed in the cafeteria area!" The security guard at the front stopped a food blogger holding a selfie stick: "Young man, this is a hospital cafeteria, not a popular spot for taking photos!"
The crowd began to stir, and a reporter tried to reason with them: "We're here to conduct an interview..."
"No interviews allowed!" Another security guard stood in front of the cafeteria's glass door. "Patients need to rest, and the cafeteria needs to operate. We can't let anyone interfere!"
In less than ten minutes, the once thronged crowd was completely dispersed. Su Yingxue stood by the window of her hospital room, watching the security guards set up a cordon and neatly cordon off the entrance to the cafeteria.
A short while later, the hospital director and the head of logistics came out and explained to the remaining patients' family members who were watching: "Starting today, the cafeteria will only be open to internal staff; no outsiders are allowed to enter. We must ensure a safe dining environment for patients and their families."
When Su Yingxue came downstairs carrying a canvas bag refilled with ingredients, the cafeteria entrance had returned to its usual tranquility. Several familiar caregivers were waiting at the entrance with a food cart. Seeing her arrive, they greeted her with smiles: "Little Su, should we add more dates to the soup today? We've all been asking for it!"
She nodded, lifted the curtain of the stall, and the familiar sounds and aroma of oil quickly filled the air. Half an hour later, Hou Yiming personally brought over his grandfather's special lunchbox and said softly, "My grandfather said that the meat slice soup you make is much better than those from those trendy restaurants."
Su Yingxue looked up at the window—the lights were just right, shining brightly on the "Patients First" sign at the cafeteria entrance. She suddenly felt that days like these were the most reassuring.
She waved her hand and said, "I'm not making savory pancakes for you today, I'll just make sliced meat soup."
Su Yingxue deliberately didn't make savory pancakes today—she only set up a bubbling soup pot, with fingernail-sized pieces of meat floating in the milky white broth. Minced ginger and goji berries swirled in the soup, and the fresh aroma seemed to beckon, wafting out from the gaps in the pot lid, making passersby unable to help but take a deep breath.
She wore a faded blue apron and was bending down to knead the pounded minced meat into balls, the silver bracelet on her wrist clinking softly with each movement. Five or six people were lined up in front of the stall, all family members of patients who had come to stay with them, quietly waiting for their soup to be served, with someone occasionally praising, "This tastes really good."
"Master Su, are you not making pancakes today?" Aunt Wang, the caregiver who often comes to get meals, peeked out and asked.
"Hmm, let's try something different." Su Yingxue stirred the soup with a wooden spoon and added a spoonful of her secret-recipe broth. "The weather is getting cold, so soup will warm your stomach."
The back door suddenly creaked open, and Su Yingxue caught a glimpse of a young man in an oversized hoodie, a DJI camera around his neck, and a medical record in his hand, sneaking furtively through the cafeteria toward the emergency room. She paid him no mind and continued pounding the minced meat on the cutting board—this meat had to be repeatedly pounded along the grain to break down the tendons and membranes, so it would be tender enough to melt in your mouth after cooking.
"Doctor! Doctor! My stomach hurts so much!" The young man's voice suddenly rose, filled with exaggerated pain, which made several people in line turn around.
Su Yingxue looked up and saw him rushing into the examination room, clutching his stomach. His hoodie hood was askew, revealing a glaringly obvious light fixture strap. The emergency room door had barely opened when he darted to the doctor in the white coat, groaning and clutching his stomach, "Doctor! I think I ate something bad!"
The doctor adjusted his glasses: "What's wrong?"
"I...I'm hungry!" The young man suddenly straightened up, shifting his hand from his stomach to his abdomen. "I'm so hungry my stomach hurts! Something hot will do the trick!" He then turned and ran, turning back to wink at the doctor after a couple of steps, his expression like that of a rat that had just stolen some oil.
The doctor stared at his retreating figure, his face full of suspicion: "...What's wrong with him?"
The young man sprinted to the back door of the cafeteria, pulled out his DJI camera from his pocket, and chuckled twice: "I'm so smart! I booked an appointment with the gastroenterology department in advance!" He glanced at the empty corridor, made sure no security guards were chasing him, crouched down and slipped to the food window, tiptoed and peered inside—the slices of meat floating in the soup pot were glistening with oil, and the aroma wafted straight to his nose.
"Can Can eats everywhere, I have to film a twist video today!" He cheered himself up, took out his phone and turned on the fill light, "Those comments online about 'heartless shop owners' and 'hyping up snacks' will show you how outrageous they are after I finish filming!"
He squeezed to the front of the line with a disposable tray, pointing to the soup pot: "Give me a bowl of sliced meat soup, extra meat!" Su Yingxue was busy putting the last few slices of meat on Wanli's plate. Hearing this, she looked up, saw that it was a stranger, and nodded in agreement.
When the soup bowl was handed to him, Can Can almost squint from the aroma. The first sip of soup was so delicious that his tongue almost curled up – the meat slices were as tender as tofu, and when you bit into them, they were full of meat juice, the sweetness of goji berries, the freshness of seaweed, and a certain indescribable warmth, all of which went straight down his throat and into his stomach.
"This is too amazing..." he mumbled indistinctly, his chopsticks kept piling food into the bowl, and he even drank the soup to the last drop.
But as soon as he put down his bowl, those glaring comments from the internet suddenly flooded his mind—"A blogger who's just trying to ride the wave of popularity," "A retired actress is making money by playing the victim," "This slice of meat tastes fishy"... He wrinkled his nose and almost blurted out, "It's just so-so," but the lingering umami flavor in his mouth made him swallow his words back.
"Um... Chef Su?" He put down his chopsticks, raised his phone pretending to take a picture of the soup pot, but actually secretly pointed the camera at Su Yingxue's hand. "How are these sliced meats... made?"
Su Yingxue was slamming the last piece of minced meat onto the cutting board when she heard this. She looked up and saw a young man, so she put down her wooden spoon, wiped her hands with her apron, and said, "You should choose pork leg or pork shoulder with three parts fat and seven parts lean. First, slice it and then pound it repeatedly with the back of a knife to break up the tendons and membranes." She gestured as she spoke. "Then add starch, egg white, and ginger water, and slam it in one direction until the minced meat sticks to your hands and doesn't fall off."
Can Can stared at the silver bracelet dangling from her wrist, suddenly remembering how his grandmother used to wear similar bracelets when she made meatballs for him in the kitchen. Back then, his grandmother would say, "The meat needs to be pounded enough to make it tender when cooked." His throat tightened, and looking at the empty bowl of broth, he suddenly asked, "Chef Su, what...did you add to this broth?"
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