1984: Starting from a bankrupt Sichuan restaurant

Chapter 119 Truly a master, great minds think alike.

Zhou Yan rushed into the restaurant and saved the painting from being plastered on the wall with rice from Aunt Zhao's hands.

Aunt Zhao and Zhou Momo looked at him with puzzled expressions.

“Such a beautiful painting will rot in less than two years if it’s pasted on the wall. Let’s leave it here for now and I’ll go buy a frame to mount it.” Zhou Yan placed the painting on the counter, took a piece of wood to weigh it down, and smoothed out the creases.

After putting the painting away, Zhou Yan turned and went into the kitchen. He cut up three ounces of pork head meat, packed it up, picked up the Romance of the Three Kingdoms that Old Zhou had finished reading by lamplight last night, threw it into the bicycle basket, and pushed his old bicycle out the door: "I'm going to borrow a book."

"Do we still have to pay with pork head meat when borrowing books now?" Aunt Zhao asked.

"I'm meeting a friend on the way," Zhou Yan's voice came from outside.

"What's wrong with him? Why does he have to buy a frame for every painting?" Aunt Zhao asked Zhou Miao with a puzzled look.

"This shows that he values ​​that girl very much, so he wants to preserve her paintings carefully," Comrade Zhou analyzed.

Aunt Zhao seemed thoughtful, then smiled and said, "Not bad, Lao Zhou, you really know your stuff."

……

Zhou Yan rode his bicycle to the supply and marketing cooperative first and bought a picture frame, which was just the right size to put Xia Yao's painting in.

He didn't think too much about it; he just felt that since it was Xia Yao's painting, it should be preserved better.

But since this was a gift from Xia Yao to Zhou Momo, it wasn't appropriate for him to just store it in a box. He decided to frame it for her so that it wouldn't be easily damaged, whether placed on a table or hung on the wall.

Yes, that's it.

I also bought a dozen sheets of paper, intending to use them for Zhou Momo's drawing.

Then he went to the town library.

An old man was lying on a recliner placed at the entrance of the library, engrossed in reading a book.

Zhou Yan stopped the car and took out the book "Romance of the Three Kingdoms" and a bag of pig's head meat from the basket.

Hearing the noise, the old man quickly closed the book he was holding.

Zhou Yan could vaguely make out the words "Jin Ping Mei" (金瓶...), but they were covered by a book cover and he couldn't see them clearly.

Of course, those two words are enough.

The old man is truly a man of character.

"Finished reading Romance of the Three Kingdoms?" The old man pushed up his reading glasses that had fallen to the tip of his nose and smiled at Zhou Yan.

“That’s right, recommended by the master, I benefited a lot from reading it.” Zhou Yan familiarly pulled over a small stool and sat down next to the old man, handing him the braised meat he had brought: “Please try my braised pig’s head, it’s a good dish to have with drinks.”

The old man put the book on his lap, took the oil paper bag, opened it directly, glanced at the pig's head meat inside, picked out a piece, looked at it, put it in his mouth, chewed for a while and swallowed. He then sat up straight and looked at Zhou Yan with some surprise, asking, "What is your relationship with Zhang, who used to sell braised meat at the bridgehead?"

“That’s my grandma,” Zhou Yan said with a smile.

"No wonder, it tastes exactly the same." The old man smiled and nodded at Zhou Yan, saying, "You've inherited your skills quite well. I haven't had such good braised pig's head in years. Where is your shop located?"

“There’s a restaurant called Zhou Erwa near the textile factory gate. If you’re free sometime, I’ll treat you to a meal,” Zhou Yan replied.

“Good things should be paid for, otherwise how can you show that you’re better than others?” The old man shook his head, with a hint of pride: “I have a retirement pension.”

"Okay." Zhou Yan nodded. He was the one who was more pitiful, not knowing when he would be able to retire.

"What book would you like to borrow today?" the old man asked.

What are you looking at?

"Young people should read less of these kinds of books, lest they lose their ambition," the old man said without batting an eye.

"Then can you recommend one?"

The old man said, "Young people should read some profound books. Turn left when you come in, it's the third bookshelf, the top shelf, the one furthest inside. Take it home and read it."

Zhou Yan walked in. The third bookshelf was against the wall. The top shelf was so small that he had to stand on tiptoe to see it clearly. He reached out and pulled out the book from the very back.

"Fortress Besieged?" Zhou Yan was a little surprised. He had heard of the book, but only heard of it; he had never read it.

However, since it was recommended by a master, there's no harm in taking it home and taking a look.

Zhou Yan came out with the book and sat down on the small stool.

The old man looked down at him through his reading glasses, which had slipped down to the tip of his nose: "What, did your friend receive another letter from the girl?"

Look, a master is a master.

Zhou Yan didn't blush and nodded with a smile, "He has two questions for me to ask the master."

The old man glanced at him and nodded slightly: "Eating three ounces of your pig's head meat is no problem, so asking a few questions is no problem."

"Having just read your letter, it's like seeing an old friend. What does this opening line mean? Could you translate it for me?" Zhou Yan asked the first question.

"She said receiving your letter was like seeing you in person, and she was very happy." The old man glanced at him. "This girl is much more cultured than you."

“It’s normal for college students to be more educated than me,” Zhou Yan said with a smile.

"University students only study those few textbooks. If you read more books, your conversation and knowledge may not be inferior to those of university students." The old man shook his head and pointed to the library with rows of bookshelves. "After you've read through one bookshelf, you can go out and call yourself a cultured person. Most cultured people haven't read as much as you have."

“Alright, I’ll borrow books from here more often.” Zhou Yan nodded, then continued, “At the end of the letter, she mentioned that she was taking a walk along the Yangtze River and was somewhat nostalgic for the breeze along the Suji River. Master, what do you think this sentence means? What is it trying to express?”

"Do you think the 'wind' in Su Ji refers to you?" the old man asked with a smile.

Zhou Yan nodded, then shook his head. "It's hard to say."

The old man didn't answer, but instead asked, "Where is that girl from? How many brothers does she have? What are her parents' identities? How much do you know about them?" Zhou Yan pondered for a moment and said, "She's from Hangzhou, studying at a university in Chongqing. I don't know much about her family situation, but her parents' identities should be quite extraordinary."

The old man glanced at the Parker pen pinned to Zhou Yan's chest and asked with a smile, "Did she give it to you?"

“Yes.” Zhou Yan nodded. He would always clip this pen to his pocket when he went out. It was convenient for keeping accounts, and he could also show off by taking it out.

"The pen is nice, and the girl is nice too." The old man said with a smile, "But she must think the wind is cooler by the Suji River. The wind in the mountain city is very hot in summer."

"As expected of a master, great minds think alike." Zhou Yan nodded. The master was indeed insightful and profound. He got up to leave, but then stopped and asked, "What is your name, master?"

"His surname is Wang, and his given name is Ran."

"Master Wang, see you next time." Zhou Yan got on his bike and rode away.

The old man watched Zhou Yan ride away on his bicycle, then got up, opened the cabinet in the library, reached for a bottle of wine, paused for a moment on the box next to him, flicked his finger, opened the box, and inside was a box of letters neatly stacked.

Hundreds of letters were sealed in envelopes, stamped, and addressed, but never sent.

The old man stood there for a long time, then gently closed the box, poured himself two ounces of wine, spread out the pig's head meat that Zhou Yan had brought, picked up a pair of chopsticks, and drank by himself, quite leisurely and carefree.

……

Zhou Yan went to the post office to ask about how to mail something before returning to the hotel.

The painting had been flattened. Zhou Yan opened the frame, put the painting inside, clipped the back cover in, and propped it up on the counter.

Zhou Momo watched him work from the side.

"Should I put it here, or hang it on the second-floor wall?" Zhou Yan asked.

"On the wall!" Zhou Momo said without hesitation.

Zhou Yan found a nail, took a hammer, went upstairs, and hung the painting for Zhou Momo in the second-floor living room.

It will be hung at a height of about one meter. We'll put a small table here so she can sit and draw; the height will be just right.

Hanging it on the wall adds a pop of color to the otherwise monotonous white wall, and it looks quite nice.

"Brother, what happened to the sky that Sister Yao Yao drew last time?" Zhou Momo turned to look at him.

“That painting was for me, I won’t hang it,” Zhou Yan said.

"Hmph, you little rascal." Zhou Momo pouted.

"I bought you some drawing paper. You can draw on it with crayons from now on." Zhou Yan handed her the newly bought drawing paper.

Zhou Momo took it, looking at it from side to side in disbelief, then looked up at Zhou Yan: "So white! So big! Brother, is this really for me?"

"Of course, draw whatever you want. I'll buy it for you when you're done." Zhou Yan smiled and pinched her chubby little face. "But I have one condition: once you draw on the paper, you're not allowed to scribble on the wall, okay?"

"Mmm." Zhou Momo nodded, already eagerly grabbing her drawing paper and heading downstairs to draw.

Zhou Yan put the letter into the box and went downstairs. He saw Zhou Momo sitting at a table, holding a crayon and drawing on a piece of paper.

Regardless of how well the painting turned out, the smile on her face and her sparkling eyes didn't lie; she was very happy and loved the gift.

Xia Yao was the most thoughtful; she went out of her way to buy crayons and send them to Zhou Momo because of a painting.

He, as the older brother, hadn't thought of this at all; he just thought she seemed quite happy drawing in the sand by the door every day with a small stick.

After closing for the evening, Zhou Yan went for a run with Uncle Lin and then reviewed the reservations for tomorrow.

Nine tables were booked, with the largest table seating nine people, and the others mostly for small groups of three to five people.

It was alright, not as popular as I expected, but it was still about half full.

According to Zhou Yan's plan, the reservation limit for lunch on the weekend is 19 tables. This limit ensures that all guests will have a seat and will not have to wait for their meals, thus guaranteeing a good dining experience.

Since we only sell for one meal and the menu isn't complete, our revenue will definitely be lower than usual. So we'll focus on building a good reputation and not chase after making a lot of money.

The meal for nine people was ordered by Zhao Dong, and he ordered six dishes.

He originally wanted Zhou Yan to make braised dishes, but Zhou Yan politely declined.

There are only sixty customers in total, and we have to sell the braised food all day.

After closing at noon tomorrow, he plans to take his parents and Zhou Momo to Jiaozhou City to shop and buy some things.

The door was installed this afternoon, and he also asked Master Zhang to build an extra stove for braising dishes in the kitchen, side by side with the previous one, to match the specifications.

The current braising pot in the shop is enough for the restaurant's daily sales. If another pot is made in the afternoon, the production capacity can be doubled.

However, Zhou Yan began to consider selling braised vegetarian dishes.

Braised lotus root slices, braised potatoes, braised tofu skin, braised bamboo shoots... there is a lot of room for exploration.

Zhou Yan himself really enjoys braised lotus root and braised potatoes. Now that his braised pork products are becoming more stable, he plans to get a pot first to test the waters for braising vegetables.

Compared to meat, vegetables are much cheaper.

How much do lotus root and potatoes cost per pound?
If you braise it, wouldn't the price increase several times over?

Even if they are sold cheaply, the profit margin is still quite considerable.

"I've already made the bed. We'll be staying in the new room tonight. You can go back to your own room and sleep there," Aunt Zhao said to Zhou Yan as she came downstairs, a smile on her face.

　Asking for a monthly ticket~
　　More updates tomorrow!

　　
　
(End of this chapter)