Chapter 117

Chapter 117

"How's the renovation going over there?"

Seeing Feng Yanwen return with a smile on her face, Xu Meng casually asked.

"I met his family yesterday," Feng Yanwen replied, though her answer was off-topic. They planned to get married on May Day. "You sure you don’t wanna move in with us? The house we renovated from Granny Huang’s place is well-designed, and it even has the shower bathroom you’ve always wanted."

Xu Meng felt a slight temptation, but—

"Nah, you two enjoy your honeymoon phase. Don’t sweat ‘ditching’ me—I’m totally settled in here now, and I’ve gotten along well with the three kids. If we move out, Sister Liu will have to find new tenants for them, and that’d just be causing trouble for her, wouldn’t it?" Xu Meng said nonchalantly. "I think the current arrangement is perfect. Just keep a room for me over there, and I’ll stay whenever I feel like it. It’s not easy to find such a good rental here, and I don’t really want to move."

No way—sixty bucks a month, plus such chill neighbors? She had no intention of moving.

The courtyard over there was even smaller than this one. Even if the place is all fixed up, they’ll be all lovey-dovey, and she’d just be in the way.

Moving into her stepfather’s house? Who knows if I’d even fit in there!

He was an adult, after all, and they weren’t related by blood. If we click, great—if not, where else am I gonna find a better deal than this?

"I don’t want to move," Xu Meng said seriously. "Besides, your place isn’t that big, right? Just two bedrooms. What if you have a baby later? You’ll need space for them too. Just keep a guest room for me—I’ll stay when I want to, and when I don’t, someone else can use it. This place is much bigger and brighter. Moving into such a cramped space with four people? Hard pass."

Feng Yanwen kinda felt bad about leaving her daughter behind.

But seeing how dead-set Xu Meng was against the idea of living with them and how well she got along with the three kids, she also thought the current rental was a good arrangement.

The rent here wasn’t expensive. Though Sister Liu had mentioned that with prices soaring, she’d have to raise it a bit after a year, places this good were rare. Besides, when they first rented the place, it was at a discounted rate because of their difficult circumstances. Now that they were better off, it wouldn’t be right to keep mooching.

Feng Yanwen thought for a moment. "If you want to stay here, then stay. I’ll run it by Uncle Wang."

Seeing her daughter so enthusiastically watching over the vegetable patch, without a hint of sadness, Feng Yanwen herself got a little sad.

When Xu Meng was little, she used to follow her mother all the way to work.

Now, without her even realizing it, her daughter had grown so independent. Even though Feng Yanwen was moving somewhere not too far away—close enough to holler for her—she still felt the distance.

She couldn’t hide her mood, and even her appetite was poor at dinner.

It was a rough season for fresh food—last year’s cabbage stash was gone, and there weren’t many good vegetables available in the market. Lately, they’d been eating mostly dried vegetables, and even Xu Meng, who usually had a hearty appetite, wasn’t eating much. That night, nobody ate much.

Later, Wang Shuanzhu came over from the construction site, bringing Feng Yanwen some health stuff.

Hearing she’d been off her food lately and had lost weight, he hoped to help her regain some of it.

————

Meanwhile, in a small southern city, Zhang Ji, who had just returned from a business trip to the capital, brought back a pack of hot pot seasoning.

This wasn’t something commonly found in the market. She’d only bought it because she heard it was popular among Tsinghua University students, figuring it was a fun souvenir. She hadn’t expected much in terms of taste, and the packet of seasoning had sat untouched in her luggage for a week.

Her daughter happened to come home from school for the weekend and, knowing her mother had just returned from Beijing, automatically dug through her bag.

That was how she found the hot pot base.

"What’s this thing?"

"What thing?" Zhang Ji, who was preparing lessons in her room, leaned back and saw what her daughter was holding. After a moment’s thought, she remembered. "Oh, that’s a specialty I bought in Beijing. It’s edible—supposedly from a famous restaurant near Tsinghua."

Some things just seemed great when you bought them, but once you got home, you just don’t feel like touching it.

My daughter had never heard of hot pot before, but there were instructions on the package. After skimming them, she said, "Cut off a piece, throw it into boiling water, and then dip vegetables in it. Seems pretty simple. Several of the vegetables listed here are my favorites. I’ll go grab some oyster mushrooms."

Back then, oyster mushrooms were a fancy vegetable, costing one yuan a pound.

But Zhang Ji mostly ate at the cafeteria, where such expensive ingredients rarely appeared. So even though her daughter loved oyster mushrooms, she rarely got to eat them.

Before Zhang Ji could get a word in, her daughter excitedly dashed out the door.

Since they were dipping vegetables, she also picked up a few things the cafeteria rarely had, like tofu sheets, oyster mushrooms, and shiitake mushrooms...

Back home, she followed the steps: "Cut off a small piece and boil it in water. Should it go into boiling water or cold water? Eh, just do it like instant noodles—toss it in boiling water." She mused aloud.

At first, she wasn’t sure how much to cut, so she started with just a tiny piece.

Once it melted, she tried it and gradually adjusted the amount, adding more bit by bit until the flavor was just right.

The smell was mouthwatering. Zhang Ji poked her head into the kitchen. "What are you doing?"

Her daughter beamed. "Mom, I’m making hot pot! It smells amazing. I’m putting the vegetables in now. The broth is spicy and delicious!"

Never having had hot pot before, she simply tossed all the washed vegetables into the pot. When the broth got weak from too much stuff, she added a pinch of salt. After a moment, she took a bite and exclaimed, "Whoa!!"

Zhang Ji looked over. "What’s the big fuss?"

Her daughter replied, "This is so good! Mom, come try it. I just had a bite of oyster mushroom—it’s so freaking good!"

Zhang Ji knew her daughter couldn’t cook to save her life and thought she was overreacting. Still, she played along and walked to the kitchen. Seeing her daughter chowing down happily with excitement, she chuckled, picked up a pair of chopsticks, and tried a bite of the oyster mushroom herself.

Soon, she was won over by the flavor.

Spicy and rich, the beef tallow in the broth was incredibly enticing, especially at a time when city dwellers couldn’t afford meat with every meal. Even Zhang Ji, who wasn’t big on food, found it irresistible in that moment.

Her daughter was hopeless in the kitchen—her only culinary achievement before this was boiling instant noodles.

Zhang Ji asked in disbelief, "Did you really make this?"

Her daughter grinned and pointed at the remaining hot pot base. "I didn’t use much. The instructions said to use half the package for one pot, but I only used a quarter. It was a bit mild, so I added some salt. I think it’s delicious!"

Zhang Ji agreed.

The two of them hauled the pot to the table and ate it with leftover rice from lunch, both digging in.

By the time the girl’s father came home in the evening, only the broth was left.

Meanwhile, the rich aroma wafting through the apartment building left all the neighbors wondering who had cooked something so fragrant. No one figured it out till the next day.

When asked by a colleague, Zhang Ji explained, "...It’s hot pot base I bought at the Beijing train station. I heard it was from a restaurant near Tsinghua University and thought I’d let my daughter try it—something the Tsinghua students eat. Turns out it’s really tasty! My daughter made it herself last night. It was so good, I ate a lot too. Too bad I only bought one pack."

At 3.5 yuan, it wasn’t cheap. She had chosen it over Peking duck because it was easier to carry.

Unexpectedly, her daughter loved it the most out of all the treats she brought back. The girl had complained all evening that Zhang Ji hadn’t bought enough. Plus, it was so simple to prepare—even someone like her daughter, who had never cooked before, could easily make a meal with it.

Everyone was intrigued, but unfortunately, she hadn’t brought back more.

So they all started discussing and eventually decided to call a colleague still on a work trip in Beijing, shamelessly begging them to bring back more...

Among the neighbors near the big locust tree, initially six or seven joined in, but in the end, only Huzi's mother persisted. Some couldn’t even sell ten-plus bags after a week or so, while others dragged on for a few days before eventually returning the goods to Huzi's mother.

Huzi's mother didn’t hesitate—she took the returned stock. She wouldn’t tell anyone that her own sales were doing quite well.

Some people were just afraid of trouble—unwilling to speak up, afraid of exhaustion and hardship. These were the kinds of people she couldn’t motivate.

After shaking off those who couldn’t keep up, Huzi's mother rolled up her sleeves and got down to business.

But even she hadn’t expected business to be this good lately.

She mimicked Xu Meng’s talking points:

"This is what Tsinghua University students love to eat. Why not let your kids try the same thing?"

"It’s delicious and a breeze to cook—just cut off a piece, toss it into water, boil it, and then add your veggies."

Some bought it just for novelty, thinking 3.5 yuan wasn’t expensive and that it wouldn’t take up much space, so they grabbed a pack on impulse.

Others were drawn in by the prestige of Tsinghua and Peking University, feeling as if eating the same hot pot as these top-school students would elevate them somehow—like catching a bit of the "‘genius aura’." Out of curiosity, they bought a bag or two, thinking it’d be fun to bring back as gifts or brag about. After all, when visiting the capital, even instant noodles were taken home as souvenirs.

At first, daily sales varied—some days she sold ten or twenty bags, but on her best day, she made over thirty yuan, not even counting wholesale. Now, even Huzi's father was pitching in as her assistant, becoming the family’s "go-to helper." He joked that he was like a "‘revolutionary brick’"—ready to be moved wherever needed.

Chen Hu felt more pressure than before. In the past, he only managed the kitchen while his father handled serving customers, and his mother took care of cleaning and cashiering.

Now, the shop was running on a worker and a half—and even that half was being fought over. As the one in charge of the kitchen, he had to finish cooking and then come out front to clean up. Worn out, he grumbled to his mother, only to be scolded:

"With the little money you make, you’re still taking up half of your dad’s time? Cut it out. A young man like you should toughen up. You don’t even do breakfast service—you used to wake up at nine, now just make it eight. Start the broth early, knead the dough, and let it rest while you do other things. It’s not like your dad isn’t helping at all—he just occasionally helps me with deliveries and such."

Lately, Huzi's mother had been out hustling so much that she’d lost weight, but she looked more energetic than ever, laying into her son.

Chen Hu couldn’t argue—his mother’s net profits were nearly double his own.

What could he say? He had to accept her arrangements.

Fortunately, Huzi's mother still had some pity for her son and tried not to send the men out during peak meal times. But other than that, no guarantees.

One day, while Huzi's father was still helping in the shop, Huzi's mother rushed in like a whirlwind, asking for the bike.

Money changes people, no doubt. Huzi's mother had never imagined that at 42, she’d learn to ride a bicycle. And once she did, walking just didn’t cut it anymore—riding was so much faster, covering kilometers in no time.

Huzi's father was too busy to deal with her, so he just pointed to the backyard. "It’s back there. Get it yourself."

Without another word, Huzi's mother hurried off to Zhang Mingqing’s shop.

She could hardly believe it—just earlier, at the train station, a sharp-dressed man had asked a few questions and then cleared her out of every last bag of hot pot base she had left. When she got home and realized she had no stock left, she had to hustle over to Zhang Mingqing for more.

Zhang Mingqing happened to be in the shop. Seeing Huzi's mother, she asked, "Big sis, you’re not here for more stock, are you?"

Huzi's mother slapped her thigh. "Exactly! I won’t lie—I’ll pay upfront this time. Can you have it delivered? As you can see, I only have a bicycle—it’s not fast, and I can’t carry much. I don’t want to keep making all these trips. If you can give me a bigger batch this time, I won’t have to come so often."

Zhang Mingqing was taken aback. The recent demand had been intense—maybe she’d have to ask Little Huang to put in extra hours.

Little Huang had no idea what was coming.

She thought her job was great—just five hours a day max. Lately, since there was no need to prepare stock, she was often dismissed by noon. But ever since Huzi's mother’s second order, Zhang Mingqing had started making Huang Xiaoying prepare stock based on a six-hour workday.

The workload was heavy—by the end of the day, it wasn’t much easier than being a waitress.

Luckily, Huang Xiaoying had done heavy lifting at home before, so she could handle the work. Young and resilient, she didn’t find six hours too exhausting.

But Xu Meng felt it was a shame for her cousin to spend all day in the kitchen at such a young age.

So when Zhang Mingqing brought up increasing production, Xu Meng suggested hiring new staff instead.