A Literary Life Starting from the First Year of High School

November 9th, Wednesday, 11:40 AM.

Zhou Min stood at the entrance of Nanjing Road Pedestrian Street, looking at the alley in front of her, wondering if she had gone to the wrong place.

It's not the alley that's changed, it's the people in the alley that's changed. The novel describes this alley as so quiet you can hear sparrows chirping, but today it's like a hornet's nest has been stirred up. Looking from the alley entrance, all you can see is a sea of ​​heads. The queue stretches from the noodle shop all the way to the middle of the alley, making two turns, like a long, twisting snake.

"What's going on?" Kobayashi swallowed the mint in his mouth, his voice a little unsteady.

The two walked into the alley. As they passed the queue, Zhou Min listened intently for a while.

The two men in suits in front of me, each holding a copy of "Story Collection," were discussing something. The thinner one said, "I saw someone post about this noodle shop on WeChat Moments yesterday, saying it was mentioned in 'Story Collection,' so I came all the way from Pudong today." The heavier one said, "Me too. My wife asked me to take some pictures to take home."

At the front of the line, a young man wearing glasses was snapping photos of the noodle shop's sign with a DSLR camera.

Zhou Min and Xiao Lin walked to the end of the line and stood behind an older woman wearing a red down jacket. The woman was carrying a vegetable basket containing a large cabbage and two scallions, and it seemed she was just passing by and queuing up.

"Big sister, is this store always this crowded?" Zhou Min asked.

The older woman glanced back at her: "There wasn't any yesterday. I don't know what's going on today, but when I passed by on my way to buy groceries this morning, there was a line. I thought they were giving out eggs, but when I went closer, it turned out they were serving noodles. You know, people these days, they even have to line up for noodles, they must have a lot of free time."

"Then why are you also in line?"

"I've been queuing for twenty minutes. Wouldn't it be a waste to leave now? Besides, I've already come all this way."

Xiao Lin whispered to Zhou Min, "I have to admit, this woman's logic is beyond words."

The line moved forward about five meters, which took fifteen minutes. Zhou Min's legs were starting to ache, and Xiao Lin sighed behind her, asking every thirty seconds, "Are we there yet?"

"You just said on the subway that you were willing to wait as long as you wanted."

"That's what I said before I saw the team. It's different once I see them. There's a gap between theory and practice."

"Your theory is 'Since we're already here,' but your practice is 'Why haven't we arrived yet?'"

Xiao Lin choked for a moment and shut up. But only for ten seconds before starting to mutter again, "Do you think that Lin Shubai knows his family's noodle shop is so popular?"

"He wrote the name of the noodle shop, but his family owns it."

"Pretty much. To write an article and turn an ordinary noodle shop into this popular place, I'm impressed."

The line moved forward a few more meters. Now they could see the entrance to the noodle shop. There was an A4 sheet of paper pasted on the glass door, with a few lines of writing on it in black marker. The handwriting was crooked and obviously handwritten.

Zhou Min squinted and read aloud: "There are a lot of people today, so the noodles might take a little longer. Please be patient. There's enough beef and enough noodles. Aunt Zhou."

Finally, after waiting in line for forty minutes, they stood at the entrance of the noodle shop. Looking through the glass door, they saw that the shop was packed with people; every table was occupied, and several people were standing and waiting for a table. Behind the counter, Zhou Chunhua was cooking noodles, and steam was rising from the pot.

The door creaked open—the same sound Zhou Min had read about in the article.

A wave of heat hit me, carrying the aroma of noodles mixed with lard and scallions.

Zhou Chunhua looked up from the stove, her forehead covered in sweat. She saw two more people come in and called out, "Find a seat! Sharing a table is fine too! Don't stand there blocking the way!"

Zhou Min glanced around the shop and saw a table that had just become available in the corner, where a man was standing up wiping his mouth. She pulled Xiao Lin along and rushed over.

"Sit down, sit down." Zhou Min put her bag on the chair and let out a long sigh.

Xiaolin sat down and looked around: "This restaurant only has seven or eight tables, but there are forty or fifty people waiting outside. With this turnover rate, the proprietress's hands are going to break today."

Zhou Chunhua walked over carrying a tray with two bowls of noodles on it, placing them steadily on the next table. After placing them, she turned around and asked, "What would you like to eat?"

"Just the noodles from the novel will do, boss lady, why are there so many people today?"

Zhou Chunhua glanced at the room full of guests, her expression a mix of happiness and worry: "After the article was published yesterday, a few people came in the morning. More came in the afternoon. This morning at eight o'clock, people came to eat noodles. Before I even opened the door, there were already seven or eight people standing at the door. When I saw this, I quickly turned on the gas stove."

"Eight o'clock?" Zhou Min glanced at her watch; it was 12:20. "So you've been busy since eight o'clock?"

"I drank a couple of sips of water and went to the toilet. I haven't stopped working." Zhou Chunhua looked down at her apron, which was covered in flour and oil stains. "We've already used up three boxes of noodles, and stewed four large pots of beef. My husband's hand cramped up from cutting meat in the kitchen."

Kobayashi couldn't help but laugh out loud.

Zhou Chunhua turned and walked towards the kitchen. After taking a couple of steps, she stopped, glanced back at the "Story Collection" magazine on the table, and asked, "Did you come here after reading that?"

Kobayashi was taken aback: "How did you know?"

Zhou Chunhua pointed to the magazine: "Several people have brought this over the past two days. Some even took pictures, standing at the door and saying, 'This is the store.' I felt embarrassed."

"Boss lady, do you know Lin Shubai?" Zhou Min asked directly.

"I know him. That kid has come several times." She paused. "When he was writing that article of mine, he even came to ask me if I agreed with it. I told him to write whatever he wanted, what's there to disagree with?"

"Boss lady, what does he look like?"

"Slim, tall, and quite good-looking. He speaks slowly and deliberately, like a little adult, not a teenager."

After the noodles were served, Xiaolin took a bite, put down his chopsticks, and said seriously, "These noodles are delicious, but to be honest, they're not so delicious that you have to wait in line for forty minutes."

Zhou Min agreed with Xiao Lin's words. The noodles were indeed delicious, but just average. "How many people come here specifically for the noodles? Aren't they all here for the story?"

After finishing their noodles, the two stood up. Zhou Min went to the counter to pay, while Zhou Chunhua was calculating the bill, holding a calculator and pressing the keys rapidly.

Zhou Min took out fifty yuan and handed it over. Zhou Chunhua took the money, and her hands were shaking when she gave him change—not because she was nervous, but because she was so tired that her fingers were trembling.

"Boss lady, why don't you take a break?"

"We can't rest. There are still more than twenty people lined up outside." Zhou Chunhua handed over the change, smiled, and said, "But it's pretty good. In seventeen years, this is the first time it's been this lively."