Spring Breeze Twenty Years

Chapter 720 The Halal Restaurant on Seventh Road

(This chapter title is only for remembrance; Seventh Road no longer exists. I lived there for four months.)

When the two of them came out of the palace, it was already dark.

The two of them were kicked out because the museum was closed. They spent more than two hours walking around.

The two hailed a taxi by the roadside. Xiaowei said, "I feel like this place isn't as big as the Forbidden City in Fengtian, but we took about the same amount of time."

Chen Hui said, "There are more things to see here. Over there it's big, but you can't go anywhere. You just keep walking forward, so it's definitely faster than here."

A taxi pulled up, and Xiaowei hailed it. Chen Hui burst out laughing and squatted down on the ground. Xiaowei looked closely and saw that the driver who had brought the two people was sitting in the car, looking at him with a leisurely gaze.

Xiao Wei said, "What a coincidence! What a coincidence!"

The driver's face twitched, and he said, "Aren't you going to walk back to save some money?"

Xiao Wei got on the bus and asked, "Aren't you changing shifts?"

The driver said, "I need to change shifts. Something came up with the other driver, so he wants me to drive a little longer. Where to?"

Chen Hui climbed onto the car, still laughing. Xiao Wei said, "Changchun Hotel, near the Imperial Garden."

The driver raised an eyebrow: "What are we going there for?"

Xiao Wei looked at the driver, puzzled: "Brother, why do you care where your passengers are going when you're driving a taxi?"

The driver started the car and drove off, saying, "There aren't any cheap shops over there either. What are you two going there for? That place isn't open to the public."

Chen Hui asked, "Brother, can you recommend some good places to eat in Xidu?"

The driver thought for a moment and said, "It's expensive. You should go eat Korean cold noodles instead. It's a good deal; a bowl of noodles costs three yuan and comes with several side dishes."

Chen Hui patted the seat and said, "Seriously, what good food is there around here?"

The driver said, "There's so much! Eight big bowls, pork stew, dog meat restaurants, barbecue restaurants, spring pancakes, flatbreads, roast goose, dumplings, halal shumai and mutton soup restaurants, Yuanshengju halal hot pot, Zhenbutong braised meat, Daokou roast chicken, hot pot with pickled cabbage, potstickers, and for specialties, there are Russian Western restaurants, Japanese restaurants, restaurants that serve deer, restaurants that serve clams, and big bone dishes. What do you want to eat?"

Chen Hui said to Xiao Wei, "How about we go to a halal restaurant?"

Xiao Wei said, "Okay, let's go to the halal restaurant."

The driver said, "You should have said so earlier! The halal restaurant on Qima Road is the most authentic and not expensive. We've already passed by."

Xiao Wei said, "It's okay, I'll just transfer back. You haven't eaten either, have you? Let's eat something together."

The driver turned to look at Xiaowei: "Not trying to save money anymore? Is that enough to charter a plane?"

Chen Hui laughed heartily, and Xiao Wei said, "How about you treat us both? You can deduct it from your fifty li, okay?"

The driver looked outside and turned around, saying, "Forget it, the three of us can't even get out of here if we eat something good. If we can't go, how about we just have a bowl of soup and some steamed buns?" Northeasterners always have steamed buns with their mutton soup.

Chen Hui suddenly paused for a moment, then asked Xiao Wei, "The place Li Weibing and the others were talking about, you mean Seventh Road, right?"

Xiao Wei said, "Yes, but I don't know if it's the same place. How long is this Seventh Road?"

The driver said, "It's a long road. There are plenty of places to eat around here. There's a place that serves cold noodles and dog meat—it's amazing! Then there's this halal restaurant. Authentic. By the way, the hotels around here are cheap. Aren't you two staying somewhere?"

Chen Hui asked, "How much?"

The driver said, "It's about twenty or thirty yuan per person, that's about the price. If you can negotiate, you should talk to the boss. Everyone runs their own business."

Chen Hui asked Xiao Wei, "Is it really that cheap? So much cheaper than in Fengtian?"

Xiao Wei said, "One bed. Everyone lives in one room, one bed per person, and shares a bathroom."

The driver said, "That room is big, with only four beds. It's clean and is washed every day."

Chen Hui exclaimed, "I knew it! It's uninhabitable. How can I sleep in a room with someone else?"

The car turned and twisted, eventually entering a small street lined with shops and bustling with people. It looked quite lively.

The halal restaurant the driver mentioned had a small storefront; it was just a tiny eatery with a blue sign with white lettering and two blue banners hanging beside it, each with a low-wattage light bulb. A gentle breeze blew, and the blue ribbons hanging from the banners swayed in the wind, casting magnified shadows on the ground and walls by the light bulbs. Surprisingly, the combination of colors cleverly created an atmosphere reminiscent of a ghost movie.

Two narrow double doors, from which wafted the aroma of mutton, which could be smelled from afar.

The shop had a few old tables covered with worn-out linoleum tablecloths, and two fluorescent lights flickered occasionally amidst the buzzing of electricity. The walls were also mottled, with light yellow and dark brown watermarks, and hung paintings covered with wavy lines of text—let's just call them paintings. The background, however, was quite beautiful: a building with an arched roof, a crescent moon atop it, and a star-studded night sky.

"What's the next step?"

The boss was a greasy, fat man wearing a dark blue ethnic hat with four corners that didn't even cover the top of his head, yet it wouldn't fall off, which was quite frustrating to watch. His hair, beard, face, and hands were all greasy, and his smile was greasy as well.

The driver sat down casually, took out cigarettes and offered them to everyone, saying, "Pick your best dishes, bring out the good stuff, and hurry up. There are only three of us anyway."

The greasy, overweight boss grinned, his face practically oozing oil: "Lamb, lamb liver, shumai, lamb dumplings, lamb offal soup—a rich broth made from lamb bones, milky white, sprinkled with scallions, and a touch of cilantro. Want some?"

Xiao Wei said, "Okay, let's go, hurry up. How about another hand-held sheep?"

The boss raised his eyebrows and said, "Oh, oh, oh, you're so cute, you want to sing after you've eaten?"

Chen Hui said, "Do they all talk like this? Or is it just him?"

The driver lit a cigarette, took a puff, squinted, and said, "Come on, he'd be even more talkative than you in another place. It's just for business, they have to create a different atmosphere. What are you laughing at? Am I wrong? Come on, come over here and brag for a bit."

The boss smiled and waved his hand.

A tall, large-eyed ethnic minority woman came out from behind and whispered a few words to the boss. The driver said, "That's his wife. She really can't speak Mandarin. It seems that this ethnic group is quite strict with women. We can't understand it."

Chen Hui looked around and said, "This shop doesn't look very clean. Why don't you clean it up?"

The driver said, "Isn't that how it is everywhere? Aren't all restaurants like this nowadays? Can you keep up with the cleaning every day? As long as the food is good, that's all that matters."

The driver said it was the truth. In the early 90s, not only were small privately owned restaurants like that, but even larger state-owned restaurants were like that. Everywhere was old, dirty, and messy. Nobody cared. The diners didn't care, and neither did the restaurant owners. People at that time didn't have that awareness about the environment.

(End of this chapter)