1984: Starting from a bankrupt Sichuan restaurant

Chapter 171 I deserve to die... (6.8k words combined)

Huang Bing, holding the magazine, stared at Zhou Yan in a daze, pondering his words intently.

Zhou Yan took the two magazines from Huang Ying and signed his name.

Although he didn't know why he had to sign next to a bowl of braised beef, it was a VIP annual pass for the restaurant, and he tried his best to fulfill this not-too-outrageous request.

The brother and sister come to the store every day and spend seven yuan, which is extremely consistent.

Zhou Yan put away his pen and glanced at Huang Bing.

He hates sycophants more than anything else in his life.

Instead of wasting time on this, you should earn more money.

and also!

In 1984, riding a Jialing 70 motorcycle in Jiaozhou like a lapdog?
How can a person simultaneously possess both a Jialing 70 and low self-esteem?

Master Huang is also a remarkable person.

Huang Ying happily put away the magazine and rolled her eyes at Huang Bing: "Exactly! If you really get carried away, go home with her and move corn. Don't come back. It's annoying to see you."

"Huang Ying, you...you've gone a bit too far," Huang Bing said anxiously.

"I don't care about you, it's not my allowance anyway." Huang Ying pouted and turned to Zhou Momo: "Come on, Momo, let's continue drawing."

"Mmm!" Zhou Momo nodded and took Huang Ying's hand.

Huang Bing looked at Zhou Yan's face with envy: "If I looked like you, Xue'er definitely wouldn't have tested me."

However, he quickly dismissed the idea, thinking, "If I looked like that, shouldn't she be the one facing the test?"

Zhou Yan looked at him, wondering what this guy was muttering to himself.

"Brother Yan, you haven't been in a relationship yet, have you?" Huang Bing suddenly asked.

"Women will only slow down my money-making speed. Dating? I wouldn't even date a dog." Zhou Yan curled his lip.

"You...you...you're such a waste!" Huang Bing said, exasperated. "If I looked like you, I'd change girlfriends every week!"

"Then you'll most likely have to eat peanuts," Zhou Yan said seriously.

"Forget it, let's not talk about that. My girlfriend from last month, I caught her hooking up with my little brother a few days ago, those shameless scumbags! The Xue'er she's chasing now is an artsy young woman, just showering her with gifts probably won't get her." Huang Bing moved closer to Zhou Yan and whispered, "Brother Yan, your handwriting is so beautiful, you must be able to write love letters, right?"

"Love letters?" Zhou Yan hesitated. Did the ones he wrote for Xia Yao not count?
Seeing hope in his hesitation, Huang Bing quickly said, "It won't be for nothing. If you write me a love letter, I'll give you a dollar as a writing fee."

"One piece?" Zhou Yan's finger twitched.

"Add another one!" Huang Bing said through gritted teeth. "Just one page is enough!"

Zhou Yan smiled and shook his hand, her smile sincere: "Forget about money, we're friends."

This calligraphy practice wasn't for nothing! Earning two yuan for a page of love letter is equivalent to Lai Fu selling two slabs of tofu.

He never wrote love letters, but he certainly took plenty of notes in the old prince's love letter journal.

He can effortlessly compose opening remarks, closing remarks, and various literary quotes.

Zhou Yan glanced at his watch and said with a smile, "Come on, I'll write it for you now."

"Okay!" Huang Bing happily followed him inside.

The oriole beside her looked up and shook its head helplessly.

Ten minutes later, Huang Bing came out happily with a letter in his hand, muttering to himself: "Xue'er, seeing this letter is like seeing you in person, opening this letter brings a smile to my face..."

Next to the counter, Zhou Yan put two yuan into the cash box, turned around and went into the kitchen with a happy smile.

The guy who asked for extra money was quick to respond; two yuan arrived in his account in ten minutes. This money is too easy to earn.

"It's so well written, the writing is superb! These two dollars are really worth it!" Huang Bing praised repeatedly, and Xue'er would definitely agree after reading it.

"Let me see," Huang Ying said, leaning closer.

"What are you looking at, young lady?" Huang Bing immediately folded the letter and put it in his pocket.

"Get out of here! If you don't give it to me, then forget it!" Huang Ying gritted her teeth.

……

night.

The guesthouse is on the second floor, in a room.

Two sheets of oil paper were spread out on the small table, containing braised pig's head and braised beef.

There were three wine glasses on the table.

He Zhiyuan and Huang Chen sat facing each other, raising their glasses in a toast.

Li, who couldn't hold his liquor, was already fast asleep in bed.

Huang Chen picked up a piece of pig's head meat and put it in his mouth. While chewing, he said with emotion, "I never expected that there was such a story behind Zhang Ji Braised Food. Only you could dig it out. I have often visited Old Zhou's family for the past ten years, but I have never heard Old Mrs. Zhang mention it."

“It’s normal that you don’t know. These kinds of things are not usually done by the older generation.” He Zhiyuan took a sip of wine and said, “I went for a walk around in the evening. There were quite a few individual vendors selling soup pots at the bridgehead and the dock. Xiao Li and I roughly counted them, and there were as many as twelve. They are all family members of the butchers in Zhoucun who produce and sell their own products. It has formed a certain scale.”

“Soup pots are indeed quite common. The scale of cattle slaughtering in Zhoucun has grown significantly in the past two years. Offal that is not easy to sell outside the town and must be processed on the same day will be brought to the town to be made into soup pots and sold.” Huang Chen nodded and said with a smile, “Actually, the beef with 'Qiaojiao' that Zhou Yan makes is the same as Zhoucun soup pot, but his is even tastier and he has given it a more special name.”

"Since you're in charge of Suji's economy, I have a suggestion for you: perhaps you could try to scale up the production of Qiaojiao Beef. If this works, not only will the individual vendors making Qiaojiao Beef earn more money, but if it can attract tourists from Jiaozhou to Suji, where they can earn money from all the food, drinks, and entertainment, then it will be a huge opportunity for Suji's development." He Zhiyuan put down his wine glass and said with a smile:
"Look, the yellow catfish in Xinjin is becoming increasingly famous. Many gourmets from Chengdu will make a special trip to Xinjin on holidays to eat wild yellow catfish. There are also more and more restaurants serving yellow catfish, and business is booming."

Huang Chen nodded thoughtfully upon hearing this, put down his chopsticks, and earnestly asked, "You are knowledgeable and experienced. How would you best proceed with this? To be honest, the taste of those dozen or so hot pot stalls is still not quite as good as Zhou Yan's braised beef."

Should we ask Zhou Yan to share the recipe? That probably wouldn't be appropriate; that's how he makes his money, and his business is just getting on track.

"Forget about the recipe. Zhou Yan is a shrewd kid; he's got me completely fooled. He hasn't revealed a single secret to me, and instead, I've willingly given him free advertising." Huang Chen shook his head with a smile.

"But he's not one to eat alone. There's also a 'Zhou Ji Qiaojiao Beef' restaurant on the dock, run by two brothers. I initially thought it was someone else trying to piggyback on Zhou Yan's success by changing the name. But after I sat down and ordered a serving, I found that the taste was almost identical to Zhou Yan's."

"I only found out after talking to the owner that the two brothers were Zhou Yan's cousins, named Zhou Jie and Zhou Hai, and they learned the craft from Zhou Yan. There are six or seven hot pot restaurants on the dock, and their prices are the most expensive, but their business is the best."

“My advice is to protect the ‘Zhou’s Braised Beef’ brand. You should help Zhou Yan register this trademark and then strictly investigate and punish vendors who use the name, so that ‘Zhou’s Braised Beef’ won’t be everywhere. If customers come and are deceived, the reputation will be ruined, and it will be difficult to succeed.”

“Suji is not a big town, but it has two high-quality hot pot restaurants. In the past two years, they have been able to support the influx of customers from outside the town. First, we need to build up our reputation. As long as the hot pot business is booming, other individual vendors selling hot pot in the town will soon take the initiative to improve their skills, refine their hot pot recipes and methods, and continuously try to get closer to the level of Zhouji Hot Pot.”

“I’ve looked at other hot pot restaurants, and the ingredients are fine, but the cooking skills are lacking. But as long as people see that making braised beef is profitable, they will naturally rack their brains to study and improve, enhance the quality, and compete with Zhou’s braised beef.”

“All large-scale culinary industries basically go through this process. Differences in ingredients result in different flavors, and after a few years, they will flourish in a diverse range of styles, which is more fascinating than uniformity. In this process, necessary supervision to prevent the bad from driving out the good is what you should be doing.”

Huang Chen had taken out his notebook at some point and was quickly writing half a page with a pen.

Closing his notebook, Huang Chen raised his glass and said, "Your suggestion is quite professional and constructive. Taking advantage of the momentum of your Sichuan Cuisine magazine, I will submit this matter for discussion at tomorrow's meeting and see what else we can do."

……

“Zhou Yan, I think we can add another twenty or thirty bowls of Qiaojiao Beef. As the weather gets colder, more and more customers are eating Qiaojiao Beef. One hundred and twenty bowls are not enough to sell. We can sell eighty or ninety bowls at noon, and many customers want to order it but can't get it in the evening.” Aunt Zhao walked to the counter and said to Zhou Yan, who was keeping accounts.

Zhou Yan looked up and said, "Okay, then we'll add twenty more bowls tomorrow. If more customers order later, we'll add more."

"Recently, among the customers who come to eat Qiaojiao Beef, besides the factory workers, I've seen some teachers and government staff from the town," Aunt Zhao said with a smile. "I think our restaurant's reputation is getting better and better!"

"That's right. With you and the old man at the entrance and in the lobby, the guests have a fantastic experience and leave with smiles on their faces," Zhou Yan said with a smile.

"I only did a little hard work cutting the meat; it's all thanks to your mother," Old Zhou said with a smile as he came in after pouring out the foot bath water.

"Tsk tsk, you two are getting better and better at talking." Aunt Zhao's lips curled up, she was in a very good mood.

"What about me? What about me!" Zhou Momo raised her little hand, looking at Zhou Yan with a face full of expectation, her little face practically screaming, "Praise me! Praise me!"

"Zhou Momo, the best sales champion!" Zhou Yan gave her a thumbs up and took out a dime from the cash box: "Here, this is today's bonus. Please welcome the sales champion to receive the award."

"Oh my god! Another penny!" Zhou Momo's eyes lit up, and she held it out to Zhou Yan with both of her little hands.

Zhou Yan solemnly placed the money in her hand and encouraged her, "Little Zhou Momo, please keep up the good work and create even greater achievements."

"Mmm." Zhou Momo took the money, ran over and hugged Zhou Yan's leg, her smile exceptionally bright: "Brother, I love you!"

"Good girl." Zhou Yan smiled and patted her head. A little gummy bear, hugging your leg and saying she loves you, whose heart wouldn't melt?

Aunt Zhao and Comrade Lao Zhou stood to the side, their faces also beaming with smiles.

"Alright, go to sleep. Let your son finish writing down the accounts and get some rest." Aunt Zhao came over and picked up Zhou Momo.

"Goodnight, buddy." Zhou Momo waved to Zhou Yan, turned around and hugged Aunt Zhao's neck, and said in a childish voice in her ear, "Mommy, I have lots and lots of money. I'll buy you a gold necklace in the future, okay? Just like the one that Fangfang's mom wears."

"Oh my, my youngest daughter is so filial! Mom is so happy." Aunt Zhao couldn't stop smiling.

"Then will you make me egg pancakes again tomorrow morning, and put a little extra sugar in them?" the little guy said.

"Okay, I'll eat the pancake you drew tonight, and I'll fry you an egg pancake tomorrow too." Aunt Zhao carried Zhou Momo upstairs.

"Want to play a couple of games after you've finished recording the accounts?" Old Zhou asked Zhou Yan, taking out his hand-held chessboard.

"Come on, who's afraid of who!" Zhou Yan threw the last roll of money into the box and closed the ledger.

The two inept chess players battled it out in three games, with Zhou Yan narrowly winning the third game, taking the series 2-1.

"No, no, I've gone the wrong way, I don't go this way."

"Old man, a true gentleman never takes back his moves!"

"Don't be so smug. You made a mistake. Let's start over tomorrow night!" Old Zhou put down the chess pieces and went upstairs with a regretful look on his face.

Zhou Yan was in a great mood. He took out some stationery from the cabinet, picked up a pen, and wrote a letter to Xia Yao, sharing his experience of being published in the Sichuan Cuisine magazine and some interesting things that had happened in his life recently.

After writing three more pages, Zhou Yan signed his name at the end and then realized that the corners of his mouth were a little sore from smiling for too long.

Indeed, sharing happy things with others makes you feel happy too.

The interview with the old lady went quite smoothly today, and He Zhiyuan was very satisfied. The chances of it being published should be quite high, meeting his expectations.

His goal was to make Comrade Zhang Shufen famous in the braised food industry.

If Zhang's Braised Food could become famous, it would benefit him too, since he would be the legitimate inheritor of Zhang's Braised Food. Zhou Yan thought it was a good idea for He Zhiyuan to interview Aunt Sun, so she wrote them a note.

My great-aunt has been making tofu for most of her life. If she could appear in a magazine with the old lady, even if it's just for a short time, that would be a way of leaving a mark.

He had already planned it out: after finishing his work tomorrow at noon, he would go to Shangshui Village to take his aunt to get her eyes and legs checked.

Laifu is so pitiful. If his great-aunt could stay with him for a few more years and he could live independently, his situation would be much better.

……

At night, Comrade Zhou turned over and muttered, "What if I had made that move? Would I have won...?"

……

The next morning, at the stone bridgehead.

He Zhiyuan took Xiao Li to various places, something he really enjoyed doing when he arrived at a new location.

In the morning markets of each place, you can feel the purest and most authentic local atmosphere.

The vendors' calls, the haggling between customers and vendors, and some unique local foods all combine to create an interesting morning.

"Let's see where there's a tofu stall. It belongs to Zhou Yan's cousin; he shouldn't be very old," He Zhiyuan said to Xiao Li, looking around.

"Why is it called 'Silent Tofu Stall'?" Xiao Li asked, looking around in confusion.

"I guess Zhou Yan named him that. The weirder the name, the easier it is to attract customers. It's a marketing tactic," He Zhiyuan said with a smile.

He planned to return to Chengdu in the afternoon, but he had to transfer in Jiaozhou first, so He Zhiyuan brought Xiao Li to Shibanqiao early in the morning, intending to leave after interviewing Zhou Yan's aunt.

I walked past two tofu stalls; one was run by an old man, and the other by a woman—neither fit the description.

"Editor-in-chief! Look at that sign." Xiao Li suddenly pointed to a red sign standing in front of them and said.

He Zhiyuan looked in the direction the finger was pointing and saw a conspicuous sign standing in front of a small tofu stall.

It was written in red ink: Xiba Tofu! 2 cents a pound!
Below, painted in yellow, is written: Silent Tofu Stall.

He Zhiyuan could recognize the handwriting as Zhou Yan's at a glance.

"That's it, let's go take a look." He Zhiyuan called out and walked forward.

As the two approached, they discovered a boy sitting behind the small table. He was about fifteen or sixteen years old, with delicate features, but was extremely thin. His Zhongshan suit was clearly a size too big, hanging loosely as if it were on a thin bamboo branch.

An older woman with curly hair bought the remaining three pieces of tofu, handed him six cents, and said gently, "Take it early, I'll come back to buy more in a couple of days."

The boy held the money in his left hand, bent his right thumb twice, and smiled innocently.

He Zhiyuan and Xiao Li watched this scene, then glanced at the small black characters below the sign, and both fell silent.

“I deserve to die…” He Zhiyuan whispered.

"You...you didn't expect it to turn out like this either," Xiao Li comforted him.

The fashionable auntie left with her tofu, leaving only He Zhiyuan and Xiao Li at the stall.

The boy was packing his things when he saw the two still standing there. He smiled and pointed to the empty table.

“We…” He Zhiyuan began, but then, remembering that the boy was deaf and mute, he quickly took out the note Zhou Yan had written for him and handed it to the boy.

Yesterday, he was still a little puzzled as to why Zhou Yan's note was written in such detail, like a letter of introduction, with their identities and purposes written on the paper.

Now he understood; they were worried that there might be communication barriers between the boy named Laifu and them, so they made things clear in advance.

Laifu took the paper, looked at it for a while, smiled and nodded. He reached into the pocket of his Zhongshan suit and pulled out a pencil stub about the length of a finger. He wrote a line on the back of the paper: "This morning, Brother Zhou Yan asked me if you wanted to come home with me."

The boy's handwriting was very neat and beautiful.

He Zhiyuan took the paper and pen from Xiao Li and wrote, "Is this convenient?"

Laifu smiled and nodded, then wrote: "It's just a bit far, it takes half an hour to walk there."

He Zhiyuan wrote: "No problem."

"Okay, please wait while I pack my things." Lai Fu smiled and wrote a line, then began to bend down and pack his things.

The small table was folded up and stuffed into the basket along with the tofu grid. The signboard was tied to the basket with rope and then carried on the back.

The large bamboo basket, slung over the boy's thin shoulders, made him appear even larger.

Laifu smiled at the two of them, waved, and walked ahead.

He Zhiyuan and Xiao Li followed, and suddenly felt a little uneasy.

Reaching the bridgehead, He Zhiyuan glanced at the meat stall next to him and said to Xiao Li, "Take your time with him. I'll buy you a pound of meat; I won't come empty-handed."

"Okay, editor-in-chief, I'll tell him to slow down." Xiao Li nodded.

He Zhiyuan cut off more than a pound of pork belly. When he turned around, he found Laifu and Xiao Li waiting under a big tree nearby, their smiles revealing a hint of restraint and innocence.

"Never mind, let's just take the last one," He Zhiyuan said, turning around.

"Two jin and six liang, that'll be two yuan and fifty cents." Old Zhang tied the meat with straw and handed it to He Zhiyuan. He glanced at Laifu standing to the side and asked curiously, "Are you related to that tofu-selling kid?"

“Not relatives, but…” He Zhiyuan took out money and handed it over, then paused, “I’d say we’re just friends. It wouldn’t be right to go to his house empty-handed.”

"Your friend is quite particular, bringing so much meat," Zhang Laosan said with a smile.

He Zhiyuan smiled and nodded, carrying the meat towards Xiao Li and the others.

After walking for half an hour, the three of them finally arrived at the dilapidated house.

The dilapidated house, half collapsed, was barely covered by tarpaulin, and the air was filled with the aroma of soy milk.

He Zhiyuan and Xiao Li stood outside the courtyard gate, their eyes filled with undisguised surprise.

Laifu stepped forward, pushed open the door, and waved to the two people inside.

He Zhiyuan followed him inside. The courtyard was filled with bamboo poles hanging with golden dried bamboo, swaying gently in the autumn wind like golden flags.

In the middle of the courtyard, three stoves were burning, and soy milk was boiling in an iron pot. An old woman with red and swollen eyes and gray hair sat on a stool, holding a small stick in her hand. She gently lifted and rolled the soy milk skin in the pot, and then carefully hung it on the bamboo pole next to her.

The old lady's eyes were red and swollen, her right leg was curled up and seemed to be in a difficult position, her clothes were full of patches but were clean, and her fingernails were neatly trimmed.

Hearing the noise, the old lady squinted and looked towards the door, hesitatingly asking, "Laifu, who are they?"

Laifu put down his basket and went to the old lady, gesturing wildly.

He Zhiyuan said, "Grandma, my name is He Zhiyuan, and I am the deputy editor-in-chief of the Sichuan Cuisine magazine. This is my assistant, Xiao Li."

"What kind of place is a magazine office?" the old lady asked, puzzled.

“We are Zhou Yan’s friends. We interviewed Grandma Zhang Shufen yesterday and ate your dried tofu and bean curd sticks at Zhou Yan’s restaurant. We thought they were so authentic, so we wanted to come and interview you,” He Zhiyuan explained.

"Sister Fen and Zhou Yan's friends, please come in and sit down." Upon hearing this, Grandma Sun smiled and stood up unsteadily, supporting herself on the chair. "Please sit in the main room, I'll make you some tea."

Seeing the old lady limping, He Zhiyuan quickly stepped forward and said, "No need, no need. You're still making soy milk here. You go ahead and do your work. We don't need tea. We can just chat while we work in the yard."

Upon hearing this, Grandma Sun sat down again, used a small stick to peel off the bean curd skin from the pot next to her, and said, "Alright, then I'll finish making these three pots of soy milk. It's really not easy to start a fire later."

“We came from Chengdu without any preparation. We just bought some meat for you in town.” He Zhiyuan handed the meat to Laifu.

Laifu didn't take it, but looked at Grandma Sun.

"No, no, you're guests, why are you cutting off my flesh?" Old Mrs. Sun stood up again in a hurry, waving her hands repeatedly.

He Zhiyuan said with a smile, "There's no reason to come empty-handed. This is just a small token of our appreciation. We are friends with Zhou Yan, and you are our elder, so it's only right that we do this."

Tears welled up in Grandma Sun's eyes, and she sighed softly, "You've spent so much money again."

She gestured a few times with her hands, signaling Laifu to take the meat and bring it into the kitchen.

Laifu brought out two bamboo chairs for them to sit on, and soon after, he brewed two cups of tea and helped them peel off the dried bean curd sticks and hang them on bamboo poles.

"Your youngest grandson is so sensible. Although he can't speak, his eyes are full of life, and he is very polite," He Zhiyuan said with emotion.

"There's nothing we can do. Children from poor families have to learn to be independent early. This kid has a hard life, being born into a poor family like ours." Grandma Sun looked at Laifu, who was busy beside her, with a hint of heartache on her face.

He Zhiyuan was silent for a while, then changed the subject and said, "Grandma, I heard from Zhou Yan that you married into Xiba Town. Your tofu-making skills are really good. I thought Zhou Yan's dried tofu and bean curd sticks came from Xiba. The taste is so authentic. Who did you learn this skill from?"

The old lady turned around, a smile on her face, and said, "My family is from Xiba Town. I married into Suji when I was nineteen. My tofu-making skills are a family tradition; my family has been making tofu for generations..."

Xiao Li had already placed his notebook on his lap and started writing rapidly.

……

As the restaurant closed for lunch, Zhou Yan put a bag of braised pig's head in the basket of his bicycle, with two rolls of money in his pocket, and was about to leave when he saw two people coming in at the restaurant entrance.

"Grandma?" Zhou Yan looked at the old lady in front of him with some surprise, and then glanced at the old man following behind her.

The old man looked to be in his seventies, wearing a gray Zhongshan suit. He had lost most of his hair, but he had deliberately grown a small tuft of white hair long, which he stubbornly coiled around his head, as if hair could grow back in the area he had coiled.

In contrast, his beard was much thicker, with long, silvery-white hairs growing under his chin, giving him a somewhat otherworldly and ethereal appearance.

"Are you going out?" the old lady asked, looking at Zhou Yan pushing the cart.

"I plan to visit my great-aunt and take her to the clinic or the factory hospital to have her eyes and legs checked," Zhou Yan said.

The old lady smiled upon hearing this and said, "That's perfect. I was also planning to take Datou to see Lihua. Where's your husband? Tell him to ride his bike and take us there too."

"Grandma, who is this old gentleman?" Zhou Yan asked, looking at the old man next to him.

"Third Sister, give me some face in front of the younger generation." The old man spoke up, looking at Zhou Yan with a smile, "Zhou Yan, right? My name is Zhang Zhengping, you should call me Uncle. I came to Zhou Village this morning to visit Third Sister, and after lunch she called me to go see your great-aunt for a medical checkup."

"I'm too old to walk anymore, so I have to trouble you young people to give me a ride."

No extra update today.

　　
　
(End of this chapter)