At night, Xia Baozhu sorted through the manuscripts she had written during this period. So far, she had published eight short stories, one serialized novella, and received thirty-four letters from readers.
She selectively replied to ten readers.
To prevent the mail from getting lost, she changed the mailing address to the shop.
Xia Baozhu carefully placed these things into a wooden box, then picked up the English poems that Professor Deng had annotated for her, revised them, and rewrote them. She planned to deliver them to Professor Deng first thing tomorrow morning.
Looking at the calendar, there are only eight days left until Chinese New Year.
The turnover has been increasing during this period, and the store will definitely be even busier during the Chinese New Year. She also has to calculate how much food to prepare each day.
The milk tea cups have arrived, and her custom-made pudding cups should be arriving soon too.
If we get too busy, we can hire another person.
Early in the morning, Sun Xingyan encountered Xia Baozhu in the family compound.
"Xia Zhaodi, you've published another article. You're pretty fast!"
"No, it was Professor Deng who asked me to revise the English poem."
"What? You can write English poetry? Where do you get all that energy?" Sun Xingyan's jaw dropped in astonishment. "And you've only been learning English for a few days, yet you dare to write poetry!"
"It's a translation."
"Let me see it first."
“I dare not speak aloud in the high mountain temple,
For I fear to disturb the gods in the sky.
I can't even imagine how high the stars are,
It seems they might hit my head by chance.”
Sun Xingyan read and translated:
"In this high mountain temple, I dare not speak loudly."
Because I was afraid of disturbing the gods in heaven.
I simply cannot imagine how high the stars are.
It seems like they might accidentally bump into my head.
"You've translated 'Spending the Night at a Mountain Temple,' haven't you?"
“Yes.” Xia Baozhu gave him a look that said, “You’re very smart.”
"It's written too poorly, like something a primary school student would write. Take it back." Sun Xingyan returned the manuscript to Xia Baozhu, put his hands in his pockets, and left.
Xia Baozhu was discouraged by the native Sun Xingyan. She lowered her head and reread it, and it seemed that it was quite different from the original poetic sentiment.
Being able to speak and read doesn't necessarily mean you can be a good translator.
Sun Xingyan didn't agree with this level of expertise, so she didn't go to Professor Deng's house again and went directly to the shop.
San Gou was already busy at the store.
Xia Baozhu prepared today's milk tea and pudding, marinated and partially fried the chicken strips, and then fried them again before selling them.
After having two chicken rolls and a cup of milk tea for breakfast, Xia Baozhu put on gloves and started making the marinade for boneless chicken feet.
When interests become work, people become machines.
"Xia, make me two pancakes, one with spicy sauce and one with mayonnaise." Aunt Zhao, who runs a small shop on the same street, came over to buy breakfast for her grandson.
"Ever since my grandson ate your salted egg yolk and chicken patty, he's been eating much better and has even gained weight. The only problem is that he can't drink milk tea; if he does, he won't take a nap at noon."
"Milk tea contains tea, which is refreshing and not suitable for children."
"Yes, that means you're using good stuff. Xia, do you know, there's a fried chicken shop that opened on the street to the north of us. The stuff is similar to yours, but when I went to buy some, the taste was nowhere near as good."
"I'm in the store every day, I really didn't know."
"The food at that place wasn't authentic. The milk tea didn't taste like anything. I almost threw up after taking one sip."
"Perhaps it's because the recipe is different."
Xia Baozhu also had the idea of opening a branch after the New Year, but she didn't expect that others would follow suit so quickly.
It seems we need to start recruiting earlier.
Xia Baozhu told San Gou about her idea of opening a branch store and asked him if he had any suitable people to recommend.
"Would it work in the countryside?"
San Gou thought of his cousin, who failed to get into a vocational school after graduating from junior high and had to go back home to farm. Hearing that he could make money in the south, he wanted to go there to work, but his second uncle was unwilling and asked his father to help him find a job.
"Okay, let's give it a try."
San Gou immediately ran next door to make a phone call, asking his father to tell his second uncle to send his cousin over.
San Gou's cousin, Zheng Zhenhao, is eighteen years old this year. He repeated two years of school and is five years younger than San Gou. He is dark-skinned and thin, not very tall, about 1.7 meters, and looks shy and honest.
"Hello, Sister Xia." I was a little nervous when we first met.
"Hello, Zhenhao, you'll be assisting your brother for the next few days. See if you can adapt. If you feel this place isn't right for you, you can let me know."
"Sister Xia, don't worry, this kid is perfect. Don't let his age or academic performance fool you, he's quick-witted and learns everything else fast." San Gou patted his cousin on the back. "Tell Sister Xia that you'll do a good job."
"Sister Xia, I will do my best." Zheng Zhenhao felt ashamed to say such words for the first time, his voice trembling and barely audible.
"Xiao Zheng, get your brother a hat and a mask first, then get him a work uniform."
Sun Xingyan strolled over and saw Zheng Zhenhao, asking, "Where did this come from?"
“My cousin from Uncle Zheng’s family.” Xia Baozhu placed the finished pudding on the counter.
"Does your shop need so many people?"
"I want to open a branch."
"You've made a lot of money? That's why you dare to open a branch."
"The pay isn't much, but we'll train you first. Xiao Sun, do you know any other good locations?"
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