Miao Chu

Chapter 3 Persuasion
The old man, holding the soup he had stolen, slowly sipped it as he walked toward Song Miao by the stove, saying, "Just to cook one meal, you need so much firewood and oil, plus three eggs. What kind of business is this? Song Miao, how much profit do you think you'll make? When will you be able to pay off your debts?"

After tasting Song Miao's cooking, his words, though still stubborn, softened instantly. In the blink of an eye, his tone shifted from "Do you think cooking is just about grabbing a spatula and fiddling around?" and "What are you going to use to compete with others?" to "How much profit can you make?" and "When will you be able to pay off your debts?"

Song Miao didn't answer, but scooped a small spoonful of rice from the hot pot and asked, "Want some?"

The old man paused for a moment, then asked, "What is this?"

As he asked the question, his hand reached out as if it had its own mind.

The rice grains were poured into the soup, making a sizzling sound.

The old man looked closely and saw that it was a small handful of fried rice made from lard, golden and fragrant, already crispy.

It was cold, and he did manual labor, so he particularly enjoyed greasy food.

The soup was already quite flavorful, but the cabbage, fried eggs, and mushrooms had absorbed a lot of oil. When the fried rice was added, the oil burst out and floated on the surface of the soup in tiny specks.

The soup became more fragrant, richer, and had a more layered texture. A bite of the fried rice soaked in the soup was crispy and crunchy, but not hard. Even though his teeth weren't very good, he could bite into it without any difficulty.

The old man was so engulfed by the bite of food that he could no longer speak.

So fragrant.

Nowadays, female cooks are very common. If a woman has excellent skills, she is often invited by wealthy families to cook for them. Sometimes, when she has the opportunity to cook for a banquet, she will often receive a reward for making the employer proud.

Song Miao's skills are such that she can make such delicious food even with ordinary ingredients. Even if she can't work for those high-class families for a while, she can still make a living by setting up a stall.

Even if the debt is repaid slowly, there is no other way.

Song Dalang died. He was just a fishmonger who wanted to get his money back. He wasn't really that heartless. Whether it's forcing a woman into prostitution or actually driving someone to their death, it's not a good thing. Even if you're not afraid of having nightmares at night, you're afraid of being pointed at and gossiped about during the day.

At this age, it's good to accumulate some good deeds in the past.

After the meal, even the white radish shreds that Song Miao had prepared to cleanse their palates were no longer needed. The old man and the woman stopped mentioning "Master Wu" and "Master Li" and their attitudes softened.

Seeing that there was still half a torn painting on the wall, Song Miao took it down, found a broken pen from the accountant, and wrote two written agreements stating that the son would repay the father's debts, that she would assume Song Dalang's debts, and that she would repay the money monthly and pay it off in a few years.

Without inkpad, she used the ink from the bottom of a pot to make her handprint.

After watching the two leave, having eaten their fill, Song Miao closed the door.

If you want to make money by selling food, you naturally need to think it through carefully.

After she finished eating, she searched the house thoroughly and took stock of all her belongings that she could use.

Almost everything had been taken by all sorts of people, except for the stone mill in the backyard, which was too big and heavy to move. There was also a cart in the cellar with two bags of rice, several packets of beans, a vat of oil, two steamers, several broken pots, and a number of broken bowls and chopsticks.

I don't know who collected these things to take away, but they ended up being left behind.

The rice is glutinous rice, the beans include mung beans, red beans, and soybeans, and the oil is ordinary rapeseed oil.

The original owner of this body had less than three strings of cash left, which were given to him by neighbors and old friends who came to offer condolences in the past few days.

Burdened with too much debt and on the verge of losing her ancestral home, Song Miao dared not delay for a moment. Seeing that the wind and snow outside were gradually stopping, she quickly put away the money and left with only a few dozen copper coins.

The Song family's restaurant was at the end of Suanzao Alley. A hundred steps further in was the back gate of an academy. At this time, the two back doors were tightly closed, and the door knockers were a bit rusty.

Song Miao knew that this academy was where the original owner's elder brother used to study. It was called "Nanlu" and occupied a large area. It was founded by the famous scholar Fang Dajia during the early dynasty and had invited many great scholars to give lectures. It was famous for a time.

Although Nanlu Academy is not as good as it used to be, it still has its foundation. There are about a hundred students, as well as those who come to study and listen to lectures, and a number of servants, teachers, and so on. In total, there are at least three or four hundred people.

To be fair, the location of Song Family Restaurant wasn't very good.

Zhuque Gate separates the inner and outer city walls. Suanzao Lane is not exactly bustling, and Song Family Restaurant is located at the end of the lane. In recent years, it has only been able to prosper thanks to the customers of Nanlu Academy. But since the academy changed its headmaster at the beginning of last year, the good days of the past are gone forever.

The headmaster, who valued discipline highly, believed that the academy's poor performance in the imperial examinations over the past two years was due to students coming and going freely, leading to lax discipline and a lack of morale. Therefore, he changed the rules, closing both the front and back gates of the academy, and prohibiting students from entering or leaving without a pass.

A year has passed, and it remains to be seen whether the students at the academy have made any progress in their studies, but the shops at the end of Suanzao Alley have all gone out of business.

Needless to say, there's the Song family's restaurant. Across the street, there's also a bookstore that sells writing brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones. It closed down last March or April, remained vacant for a few months, and was then sold. Although it hasn't reopened yet, people frequently come and go day and night.

Song Miao glanced at the house across the street. There wasn't a single lantern outside the door, but the door knocker was worn smooth, and the thin layer of snow on the ground was half-melted and dark, indicating that people were frequently coming and going.

At this moment, the main gate of the house was half-closed, and shouts could be faintly heard from inside.

It was early morning, the weather was cold, and there wasn't a single pedestrian on the road, but there was constant noise coming from inside the house, so Song Miao couldn't help but take another look.

Before she could see anything, a shadow of clothing flashed past inside the half-open door, which then slammed shut from the inside.

Song Miao suddenly felt even more puzzled.

But she didn't have time to meddle in other people's business, so she turned and walked away.

Along the way, I only saw a few stalls, selling steamed buns, noodle soup, and wontons. Business was average. But as soon as I got to the vicinity of the state bridge, the number of pedestrians suddenly increased, and there were more stalls. You could walk a few steps and someone would be hawking their wares.

As Song Miao watched everyone doing business, she gradually gained a clearer understanding of the prices at that time.

Seeing several people carrying loads and pushing carts in one direction, all seemingly selling breakfast, she followed them. After walking for about fifteen minutes, she saw them stop at a certain place without prior arrangement.

—It's at the corner of an alley.

It was still early, but many stalls had already been set up around the corner, and business was good. Each stall was surrounded by customers, and some customers were constantly urging them to hurry up.

"Hurry! The bell is about to ring!"

"Yesterday I asked for meat buns, but you gave me only maltose-filled ones. Eating maltose first thing in the morning is just too sweet! I got a good scolding from the young master because of it. I can't get the wrong ones today, I want mutton-filled ones!"

"Give me a bowl of noodles, less hot soup, and two extra slices of meat—I'll eat here and leave! Oh, and don't add any coriander. The smell is too strong; yesterday, when I opened my mouth, I almost suffocated the teacher!"

"Sir, the noodles sold out quickly this morning. How about a bowl of wontons instead?"

"I don't want wontons. These wontons won't fill me up. Last time I bought a big bowl, I was full then, but just over an hour later my stomach started rumbling!"

As soon as the new vendors arrived, people immediately gathered around the wonton stall, and many customers complained that they were too slow.

Song Miao stood there for a while and noticed that the guests were dressed as scholars or servants, and more and more people were gathering, mostly coming out of the alley.

She followed the direction and walked in. She saw two walls on the left and right sides of the alley, one high and one low. A small door was half open in the distance of the low wall, and people were coming out of it one after another. She did not see any doors along the way of the high wall, but there were many low shrubs planted at the base of the wall.

As Song Miao walked along the base of the wall, she suddenly heard a low voice coming from ahead.

"Hey! Don't push! Someone kicked my butt!"

"Hurry, I think I see Master Deng coming!"

"Quick, don't let him see us! It's not worth getting caught over breakfast!"

As Song Miao approached, she saw a large hole carved out of the wall behind a bush. Light shone through the hole, and one head would emerge from it every now and then.

This soup is a super, super, super low-budget version of Lobster Rice Porridge. If you want the original version and are going to Guangzhou, you can try Lei Garden; they're famous for this soup (but the price is too high). If you're really on a tight budget like me, I suggest making it at home. This dish has a very low skill ceiling; you can use regular shrimp instead of lobster. With the ingredients listed here, you're unlikely to mess it up.

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(End of this chapter)