Songwan Town wasn’t large, so finding a reliable craftsman wasn’t hard—just asking the neighbors would do.
Ever since Xie Yushu and Su Chi had moved to Qingshui Lane, Zhao Shunshan and her husband had been watching with envious eyes.
This new household either had new furniture being delivered, or they’d come home with armloads of purchases every time they went out.
How much money did they have to spend like that?
When Xie Yushu came knocking early in the morning, Zhao Shunshan was about to have breakfast before heading to work at the restaurant. She was an accountant there—pay was decent. Her husband Chen Yun stayed home with the children and was still getting them dressed, so she answered the door herself.
After Xie Yushu explained her purpose, Zhao Shunshan was taken aback.
This woman had moved into a new house, bought all sorts of things, and now she was asking about good craftsmen—she’d just purchased a shop that needed renovation.
Zhao Shunshan’s thoughts were a jumble.
Seeing her neighbor frozen in silence, Xie Yushu politely repeated herself.
Zhao Shunshan cleared her throat to cover her awkwardness. The question wasn’t hard—she did know a craftsman who fit the bill. “Wu the craftsman from East Bridge Lane—she’s got some skill.”
Wu from East Bridge Lane? That name rang a bell.
“Does she also dig wells?” Xie Yushu asked.
Then it clicked—that was the same Wu who’d dug her well.
Zhao Shunshan nodded. “Yes, yes—that’s her. She does wall work and well-digging—lots of things.”
With the answer she needed, Xie Yushu wrapped up a few plump plums and apricots as thanks.
“Thank you.”
“We’re neighbors—you’re too kind.” Zhao Shunshan said the polite thing, but her hands were quick to accept the gift. She was about to say more, but when she looked up, her new neighbor had already walked away.
She clicked her tongue in approval. Not only was this neighbor rich, but she was also generous—easy to get along with.
She opened the oil paper and recognized the preserved fruits—the little Fang girl often hawked them at the end of the lane. They were tasty, but fifteen wen a portion was steep; her family had bought them only once. Who had spare cash for snacks?
She popped one into her mouth—perfectly tangy and sweet.
—
Xie Yushu went to find Wu the craftsman again and explained what she needed.
Wu recognized her from before—she still remembered how fragrant those meat buns were.
She agreed right away, but said she’d need to check the shop walls first. Not every wall could be knocked down—load-bearing walls were off-limits.
Xie Yushu took her straight to the shop.
After a careful inspection, Wu said, “Neither of these walls is load-bearing—you’re good.”
“Labor will be four hundred and fifty wen. I’ll buy the materials for you—you pay the cost. The walls aren’t big, so it shouldn’t be expensive. Maybe less than seven hundred wen.”
Last time, she’d charged three guan five qian for the well—not all labor, mostly material costs. She only earned from her hard work and skill.
This time, she made it clear so the young woman would know she was both affordable and skilled—and come back for future jobs.
Xie Yushu agreed readily. “Of course.”
They set a start date for tomorrow.
It was almost noon, and Su Chi was busy preparing lunch at home.
The salted fish was from Xie Yushu’s “employee holiday welfare” at Mapu Ferry—top-grade dried fish.
Su Chi hadn’t cooked dried fish often, but he could still tell good from bad.
The salted fish he held was made from premium yellow croaker. The person who’d prepared it was meticulous—they’d cleaned the fish, cut along the spine, and split it into two large halves without severing them completely, keeping them connected at the side so they remained a single piece.
The yellow croaker was huge—bigger than Su Chi’s face. Once dried, it had a glossy, amber sheen. The smell wasn’t overpowering; up close, you could catch the natural salty fragrance of good dried fish.
There were three large pieces in the cupboard—plenty to last. One piece alone could feed them for two meals.
Su Chi took out one piece, cut it into chunks, and soaked them in water for a while to draw out the excess salt. Then he layered them over the rinsed rice and steamed them together.
Salted fish could be fried, steamed, or made into soup. Su Chi chose steaming—to preserve the pure, original flavor.
That morning, while Xie Yushu was out finding a craftsman, Su Chi wasn’t idle. He’d taken a basket and headed to the street with the butcher shops.
He figured it was a good chance to check out meat prices and quality in town.
Back in the village, he’d bought from Aunt Gao. Now that they’d moved to town, he’d need to buy meat daily—and once the shop opened, at least ten jin a day. So he had to be picky and compare.
He visited every shop, checking the smell, color, and feel of the meat, silently noting each one.
One stood out—it met his strict standards in every way. The meat was fresh, and the shopkeeper didn’t mind him touching it. One feel and he knew it was the best of the lot.
The fat was thick—two to three fingers—a sign the pigs had been well-raised. The lean meat was bright red, not dry—clearly good quality.
Prices were similar across shops, so he was satisfied with this one.
He bought a fine slab of pork belly, two jin of hind leg meat, a pork stomach, and some large bones—the bones were cheap, only four wen a jin, since they’d been stripped clean. He took two jin.
He also stopped at a vegetable stall for fresh garlic sprouts, still smelling of earth.
If his father were here and saw him buying vegetables, he’d probably scold him—those things were grown at home, why waste money?
But there was no way around it today. They didn’t have garlic sprouts, and the rest of the vegetables were running low. Su Chi made a mental note to send word to his father to bring them some.
Besides the salted fish rice, Su Chi also stir-fried a plate of garlic sprouts with pork stomach and sweet, simple lard-cooked cabbage hearts, with the spicy-sweet-and-sour shredded cabbage salad on the side.
With fresh food on the table, Xie Yushu came home with a hearty appetite and polished off two big bowls of rice.
The next morning, Wu the craftsman arrived with her apprentice to start work.
The job wasn’t too big—she planned to finish before sunset.
Wu was in high spirits today, determined to do a beautiful job—because Miss Xie had told her she’d be providing two meals for her and her apprentice.
She wasn’t fussy about food—anything edible would do. But she’d never had such a generous employer. Other clients might give her a couple of hard flatbreads and water, at best. Miss Xie was offering hot, proper meals, even.
The idea of feeding the craftsmen two meals had actually come from Su Chi.
This was his first shop, and he wanted to take good care of it. If the workers ate well, they’d work harder and make the walls look better—pleasing to the eye for years to come.
Chiseling, breaking, and rebuilding walls was heavy labor. They needed hearty, flavorful food to keep their strength up.
Xie Yushu went to supervise at the shop while Su Chi stayed home.
He’d started early, sweeping the yard first. While sweeping, he eyed the empty plot on the east side—once they had time, he’d break the ground, put up a fence, and plant scallions, garlic, chilies, and other everyday vegetables.
After finishing the yard work, he started kneading dough. Today, he was making scallion and minced pork sauce flower rolls—one of the new items he planned to add to the shop. He figured he’d test them out on the workers today.
After kneading the dough, he set it aside to rise and began preparing the other ingredients.
He first chopped the scallions into fine rings, piling them up in a bright green mound. He also minced a small piece of ginger, then began preparing the meat filling.
Su Chi took one piece of hind leg meat and a small portion of pork belly, cutting both into tiny dice—ensuring a perfect ratio of three parts fat to seven parts lean.
In a hot wok, he melted some lard, swirled it to coat the surface, and added the minced ginger until fragrant. Then he added the diced meat, stir-frying until it changed color and released its oil. A spoonful of soy sauce, salt, and sugar followed, and he kept stirring until the meat took on a beautiful caramelized color. He set it aside.
Next came the dough. Su Chi dusted the work surface with a thin layer of flour, took out the risen dough, and rolled it into an even, medium-thick sheet. He spread the cooked meat sauce evenly over the surface, scattered the scallion rings on top, and gently rolled the dough from left to right into a long log. He pinched the seam tightly to keep the sauce from leaking out.
Each rolled piece was about two fingers wide. Su Chi cut twelve pieces of similar size, then took a pair of chopsticks and pressed them down in the center of each piece, causing the sides to puff up. He twisted the two puffed ends—and there, a beautiful flower roll took shape.
He repeated this eleven more times, and soon all twelve flower rolls were done.
He placed them one by one into the steamer, leaving space between each so they wouldn’t stick together as they expanded.
Twelve rolls filled the steamer perfectly.
While the rolls steamed, Su Chi wasn’t idle. He started another pot with water and cleaned large bones, making a simple bone broth.
The two small pots had been a good investment. Since buying them, Su Chi found cooking much easier—no rush, no hassle.
Next came the stir-fry. He slapped a few crisp green peppers with the flat of his knife and stir-fried them with sliced pork belly—a big plate of twice-cooked pork. He also quickly made a vinegar-sautéed cabbage. Done.
Just then, Xie Yushu walked in. Su Chi had her take the food to the workers, while he stayed home to eat his own lunch.
Wu the craftsman and her apprentice were still hammering away when Xie Yushu returned with two food boxes and a large soup pot.
She called out to the dusty pair: “Time to eat. My husband made this—it should be good.”
She set out the dishes on a clean table, quickly filling it.
On the table: a plate piled high with six plump, steaming scallion and minced pork sauce flower rolls, a glossy dish of twice-cooked pork with green peppers, a plate of tangy vinegar-sautéed cabbage, and a jar of bone broth.
Wu and her apprentice dropped their tools almost immediately. Their eyes locked on the spread, throats bobbing.
They’d been working all morning and were ravenous. The tantalizing aroma made them feel almost dizzy.
After taking the chopsticks Xie Yushu offered, the young apprentice plopped down and grabbed a flower roll covered in saucy meat. Soft, savory, and fragrant—two bites and half of it was gone.
She wasn’t picky and usually ate whatever was given, but she’d never had food this delicious. Whatever the employer’s husband did, it was incredible.
The twice-cooked pork, still warm from the pan and now tender from being carried over, was even more flavorful. Su Chi couldn’t speak—he just kept eating.
A bite of the meaty flower roll, a bite of the blistered green pepper, a slurp of the fragrant bone broth, and a forkful of tangy cabbage—Wu eagerly loaded everything into her mouth, chewing with satisfaction as the flavors melded.
“Miss! Your husband’s cooking is perfect for opening a shop. When he does, I’ll definitely be a customer!” Wu said, her cheeks bulging.
Her words came out garbled, but Xie Yushu managed to decipher them and smiled, saying yes.
Soon, four of the six plump flower rolls were gone. The last two were clutched in the hands of the master and apprentice.
They didn’t waste the sauce from the twice-cooked pork, either—they dipped their flower rolls into it, savoring every bite.
Xie Yushu was impressed by their hearty appetites. She told them to take their time and leave the dishes on the table when they were done, then went home to have lunch with Su Chi.
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