“Is it about hiring someone to help with the shop?”
Su Chi looked at her, a trace of attachment in his eyes. “Mm.”
After their marriage, he wanted to ask Xie Yushu’s opinion before doing anything, and this time was no exception.
Xie Yushu tucked the stray strands of hair behind Su Chi’s ear. “This is a good thing. You don’t need to ask me — if you want to hire someone, go ahead. That way you won’t have to work so hard every day.”
She was a hundred percent supportive of Su Chi’s idea to hire help. He had been running the shop all by himself — it was fine for a while, but in the long run, how could he sustain that? Even if he hadn’t brought it up, she would have found someone to help at the shop soon enough.
Su Chi hadn’t originally been planning to hire anyone for the shop just yet. The morning rush was a bit busy, but it was still within his control.
They had been living in town for some time now. The shop’s business had stabilized — they sold a lot every day. Just the pork wontons alone sold thirty to forty bowls daily, the fifty five-spice tea eggs sold out completely every day, and several large steamers’ worth of buns and flower rolls were also cleared out.
Not to mention that new items would keep being added to the shop in the future — business would only get better and better.
He thought that now that the shop’s reputation had finally spread, it wouldn’t be too late to hire someone when they added new varieties later.
But just now, when he went to the Zhao family’s house to borrow soy sauce, that thought suddenly wavered.
He knocked on the door, and it was opened by a young lady of twelve or thirteen. She looked neat and proper, but carried herself with an air of maturity beyond her years — not like a child of that age. Her gaze at him was also rather indifferent.
The Zhao family had two daughters. This should be the eldest daughter; the younger one wasn’t even as tall as his knee. Su Chi thought quietly to himself.
“Who are you looking for?” the eldest daughter asked, looking at him.
“Sorry to bother you. I’m the fulang from the Xie family next door. I came to borrow some soy sauce.” Su Chi showed her the empty soy sauce jar in his hand.
Borrowing soy sauce between neighbors was perfectly ordinary — if one household was short on something, they’d borrow from another. Borrowing back and forth like this meant no one felt they were losing out, and it helped maintain neighborly goodwill. It was no big deal.
The eldest daughter opened the door a little wider and stepped aside to let Su Chi in.
The moment Su Chi crossed the threshold, a burst of noisy arguing erupted from the inner room. He stopped in his tracks, a bit stunned.
The eldest daughter beside him looked numb, her eyelids not even twitching — as if she had grown accustomed to the commotion in the house. She turned and said to the frozen Su Chi in a flat tone, “The soy sauce is this way.”
Su Chi followed her instinctively. The arguing hadn’t stopped:
“Didn’t we say we were going to talk to the shopkeeper about raising the wages? Why is it still this little money?”
“Wages aren’t that easy to raise — you think it’s as simple as opening your mouth?”
“If wages don’t go up, how are we supposed to cover household expenses? The eldest needs to study, the little one needs to grow — the two of us can manage, but…”
It was the voices of Chen Fulang and his qizhu arguing.
Zhao Shunshan’s voice was full of impatience, as though the person across from him was being completely unreasonable.
Chen Fulang’s voice rose and fell — it sounded like he was holding back anger, or like he had endured for a long time and was finally exploding now.
Their words fell word for word into Su Chi’s ears. He felt uncomfortable and just wanted to borrow the soy sauce and leave quickly.
The eldest daughter expressionlessly poured some soy sauce into Su Chi’s jar. Su Chi was about to thank her when Chen Yun suddenly came out from inside.
He was also startled when he saw Su Chi. Su Chi took the initiative to explain why he had come. Chen Yun looked momentarily dazed, then gave Su Chi an awkward smile. “Sorry you had to see that.”
Chen Yun looked utterly exhausted — his hair was disheveled, his eyes weary, and on closer look, it seemed he had been crying.
After borrowing the soy sauce, Su Chi tried to pay him, but Chen Yun raised his hand to stop him, saying there was no need to pay for such a small thing.
It was only then that Su Chi noticed Chen Yun’s hands were completely red — several of his knuckles had developed chilblains, swollen and inflamed.
Startled, he grabbed Chen Fulang’s fingers and exclaimed in surprise: “Chen Fulang, your fingers…”
Chen Yun withdrew his hands, which had several chilblains on them. “It’s nothing, it’s nothing — just a few sores. They’ll heal when the weather warms up.”
The eldest daughter needed to study — ink, books, everything cost money. The younger daughter was growing and ate a lot every day; sometimes when there wasn’t enough, she’d secretly tell him, “A-die, I’m hungry.”
Not to mention that winter was even more expensive — firewood cost more than usual. The eldest daughter was growing, getting taller each year than the last, and every winter her clothes had to be taken apart and mended, then mended and taken apart again — what didn’t cost money?
In the household, only Zhao Shunshan had work. She worked at a restaurant, and her monthly wages were fixed. A family of four, all relying on that meager sum to get by.
He had to manage all the household chores every day and could only take on some outside work — washing clothes by hand, which was rough on the hands. He couldn’t bear to use hot water either, since boiling water always used up firewood, and he was loath to waste it.
After hearing Su Chi’s reason for wanting to hire someone, Xie Yushu understood. “So you want to give Chen Fulang a job?”
Her fulang really had too soft a heart — the moment someone seemed pitiful, he couldn’t stand to look away.
Xie Yushu wrapped her hand around Su Chi’s slender wrist — so small, her fingers overlapped with a bit to spare. She sighed with feeling, “My fulang really has social responsibility.”
Job? Social responsibility? Su Chi didn’t understand these terms, but they sounded like words of praise.
Su Chi tilted his face up to look at her for a while, blinking lightly, neither flushed nor out of breath, then nodded with an “mm.”
Xie Yushu held back her laughter, finding him utterly adorable. She drew him into her arms, pressed a kiss to the top of his head, and said softly, “If you want to do it, then go ahead.”
Hiring a neighbor was good too — you saw them every day, and they were much more trustworthy than someone from an unknown background. Xie Yushu felt at ease with a neighbor.
And so, after lunch the next day, Su Chi went next door to the Zhao family again and spoke to Chen Yun about it.
Suddenly having such a big job dropped into his lap, Chen Yun was so overjoyed he didn’t know what to do with himself. He agreed repeatedly, afraid that Su Chi might change his mind and not let him do it.
Then Su Chi told him the daily work hours and what tasks needed to be done at the shop. Chen Yun just kept nodding, saying yes to everything.
His cooking skills were only average, but cleaning tables and chairs, washing dishes and chopsticks, and keeping the place tidy — these were all chores he was used to doing. He handled them swiftly and competently; none of it was difficult.
With someone hired, Su Chi felt much lighter, as if half the burden on his shoulders had been lifted.
Chen Yun truly handled everything neatly and properly — Su Chi could feel it immediately.
On the first day, he came early with Su Chi to open the shop — lighting the fire, starting the pots, arranging the steamers — without Su Chi having to say a word, he just did it all.
Though at first he was a bit clumsy, he quickly got familiar with what kind of filling was in each steamer and the price of each item.
After a few waves of customers, Chen Yun’s speed visibly improved. As soon as a customer said what they wanted, he’d wrap it up and calculate the total quickly.
This came from his daily experience managing the household — he’d try to stretch every copper coin into two, carefully budgeting everything. Adding up the prices of the shop’s food items was nothing to him.
With him around, Su Chi was no longer as tense as before and felt much more relaxed. Now he just needed to sit in the back kitchen, fry some flatbreads, wrap wontons and buns, and after they were cooked and plated, have Chen Yun deliver them to the customers.
At this time, every table had a small jar of chili oil placed on it. Customers who liked spicy food were pleasantly surprised.
The Su family’s chili oil was truly fragrant — just one or two spoonfuls brought out the flavor. The shopkeeper was generous too, putting the chili oil right out on the counter so customers could add a spoonful to their wontons or bun fillings anytime they wanted. There was no describing how satisfying it was.
After the chili oil was put on the tables for customers to add themselves, more people chose to dine in, and sales of vegetable congee and wontons went up a bit more.
Su Chi quietly counted the number of bowls sold and chuckled to himself — putting out that chili oil was definitely the right move.
With someone in the shop, Su Chi could now go home and take care of things whenever he needed to. Before, he’d always thought about taking advantage of quieter times to go back and do odd jobs, but he could never get away.
Now it was much better — with Chen Fulang there, he could finally feel at ease going back for a while.
After the busiest morning rush passed, Su Chi told Chen Yun before he left.
Chen Yun told him to go without worry: “I’ve got the shop covered. You can head back without a care.”
There wasn’t much firewood left at home, so he needed to go out and buy some.
He had stocked up plenty of firewood for the shop earlier — enough to last a while — but at home it was nearly used up and needed to be replenished quickly.
Deep winter had arrived. The firewood that villagers brought to town for the market would be snatched up first thing in the morning every day, and he always missed it.
Luckily, recently there had been people in town pushing carts selling firewood, coming into the lane every few days to hawk their wares. Su Chi went back now to see if he could get lucky and buy a cartload.
Just as he returned to the lane, he happened to run into a seller pushing a cart piled high with firewood, calling out his wares in the alley.
“Buying firewood! Selling firewood —”
Su Chi hurried over. One look at the neatly stacked, thick firewood on the cart — not even a single skinny twig in sight — and he was very satisfied. Pointing at the whole load, he said, “I’ll take this entire cart.”
The young woman selling firewood was startled, thinking to herself that coming to Qingshui Lane to sell firewood had definitely been the right choice. The residents here were wealthier than in other places, and sure enough, they were generous — buying entire carts at a time.
Qian Ai quoted the price for the cartload. Su Chi didn’t hesitate and paid promptly.
Firewood prices were indeed a bit higher than usual right now, but he could still afford it.
His qizhu loved cleanliness and couldn’t stand even a speck of dirt. Even in the dead of winter, she had to bathe every day. As a result, he followed her lead and also washed up daily — so there was no way they could skimp on firewood at home.
“Fulang, will you need more tomorrow?” Qian Ai rubbed her hands together. She wasn’t dressed warmly, and even standing in the sheltered lane, she was shivering from the cold.
Su Chi’s eyes lit up: “Yes. How much more do you have?”
“I’ll have some every day for the next few days.”
“Then it’s settled — just deliver whatever firewood you bring these next few days directly to the Xie family.”
Qian Ai grinned from ear to ear: “Deal. I’ll help you carry this load in too.”
She followed Su Chi all the way to the Xie family’s front gate. Su Chi opened the door and had Qian Ai carry the firewood inside.
Having sold at a good price and having secured orders for the next several days from this fulang, Qian Ai was overjoyed. She hauled the firewood with extra energy and had it all moved in after just a couple of trips.
The cartload looked like a lot, but once stacked under the eaves, it didn’t seem like much at all. It would take several more large cartloads to fill the space.
Su Chi made arrangements with Qian Ai to deliver her firewood directly to his house over the coming days.
“Got it! As soon as I get to town, I’ll bring it straight to you, Fulang.”
She took a look at the Xie family’s courtyard gate — the one with the grandest entrance in the lane — and committed it to memory.
On the other side of Qingshui Lane.
“What’s wrong, Yuan-ge’er?” Aunt Hu had just scooped out a jar of vinegar when she saw her son standing by the door as if waiting for someone.
Hu Yuan withdrew his gaze. “Nothing, A-niang. It’s just — why didn’t that firewood seller who usually comes around show up today?”
At this, Aunt Hu glanced at the firewood piled high by the kitchen door, then furrowed her brow.
There was still so much at home — did they really need to buy more?
Her fulang had passed away early, and she was a big, rough woman who had raised her only son single-handedly through hardship. But she could never quite figure out what her only ge’er was thinking.
Then again, she supposed that made sense — ge’ers were always more meticulous and family-oriented. They probably thought the more firewood for winter, the better. Since that seller hadn’t come today, her son was probably worried about not being able to buy any in the coming days.
Aunt Hu put down the jar in her hand and gently soothed Hu Yuan: “It’s no big deal. A-niang will go to the street this afternoon and buy some more. It’ll always be enough — I promise you’ll have hot water every single day.”
Hu Yuan couldn’t help but laugh at his mother’s dead-serious expression. “A-niang! Firewood on the street is so expensive right now. There’s no need for us to waste that money.”
“Does that seller charge a fair price?”
Hu Yuan nodded. “That seller charges much more reasonably than the street vendors.”
“Alright then. Buy as much as you want — you’re the one managing the household money anyway.” Aunt Hu didn’t think much of it. Her son had always been in charge of the family finances, and she trusted him completely.
“I know.”
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