Wu the craftsman and her apprentice worked efficiently, finishing just before sunset.
The newly opened doorway at the front was smooth and well-finished, with straight, clean edges. They’d also installed a wooden door—clearly done with care.
Su Chi handed Xie Yushu the payment—one guan total for labor and materials—so she could settle the bill.
Wu was fair-minded. Seeing that the couple had kindly provided two hot, delicious meals for her and her apprentice, and even sent them home with a bundle of buns, she generously knocked off fifty wen, charging only four hundred wen for labor.
She’d also been thoughtful with the materials, negotiating a good price. The material shop had quoted six hundred and thirty wen, but after some haggling, she’d brought it down to six hundred—making the total exactly one guan.
As they left, each of them carried another bundle of buns from the employer’s husband.
The shop was only fifteen minutes from Qingshui Lane. Su Chi had kept dinner warm at home and went to the shop first to help Xie Yushu clean up the mess.
He brought along the right tools. They picked up the broken brick pieces and put them in a dirt basket, swept the thick layer of dust into a pile, and used a dustpan to dump it outside. Then they filled a bucket with water, soaked some rags, and wiped down every crack in the walls. The tables and chairs were wiped three times over, and finally, they rinsed the floor twice—the water carrying the last of the dust out through the drainage ditch. Once dry, the floor was as clean and fresh as when the previous owner had kept it.
What had been a shop with only one row of wooden door panels now had two rows—one for the dining area and one for the kitchen, now that the front wall had been opened up.
The two sections were clearly separated but didn’t interfere with each other, and the additional space up front meant even two more people in the kitchen wouldn’t feel crowded.
The two rows of panels were divided by a thin wall, with Wu having widened the passage by three or four feet—now spacious enough for three people to pass through comfortably.
Su Chi was pleased with the refreshed shop. Wu really knew her work—fast, meticulous, and attentive to their suggestions. And her price was fair. That one guan was money well spent.
The only thing was her appetite—she’d eaten every last bit of food, not a drop of sauce left. When Xie Yushu told him at home, he’d been surprised. He’d made the flower rolls large—and they’d finished them all in one go.
He thought that once they took down the front panels, set up a long counter, add the new steamers, and place two stoves with pots underneath, the shop would be ready to open.
Besides the stove and two wooden shelves in the kitchen, Su Chi also planned to put two long tables against the wall. Even with three pots, he might need more later—especially if he added other dishes—so he wanted to leave extra space.
Better to plan now than to rearrange later. That would only waste time and effort.
Xie Yushu had put away the dirt baskets, brooms, and dustpans outside. When she came back in, she found Su Chi looking serious and thoughtful. She thought he looked both serious and adorable.
She leaned in and used her sleeve to wipe the dust off his face. “Time to go home and eat.”
She’d told him she could handle the cleaning alone, but he’d shown up with a bundle of tools anyway.
“Alright. Let’s go home.” Su Chi felt warm inside—looking at the shop, looking at her.
Together, they fitted the wooden panels back into place and walked home to Qingshui Lane before sunset.
After dinner, they washed up one by one in the bathhouse, easing the fatigue of the past two days.
A new wooden tub had arrived in the bathhouse—delivered by the Zhou carpenter that afternoon, along with the finished, oiled bedside cabinet.
Su Chi examined the cabinet—it was convenient. Three layers of drawers for storage, with a lock for valuables.
He counted what was left in the money box—half empty again. He took the matching key Xie Yushu had given him, carefully placed the money box in the bottom drawer, and locked it.
Spending had been heavy the past two days, but Su Chi no longer felt as pained as before. He reassured himself: these were necessary expenses. Once the shop was running, things would improve.
Before bed, they changed into thin under- robes and lay down. The candle flickered. Su Chi was wide awake, not tired at all, still talking to Xie Yushu about the shop details.
The weather was growing colder; the wind howled outside, but they’d closed the windows before getting into bed, and the room stayed warm.
Listening attentively, Xie Yushu suddenly had an idea. “We could add another row of tables against the wall—good for customers dining alone.”
She knew Su Chi was planning to serve dishes that weren’t easy to take away—soups and such—so customers would eat in. Her suggestion would increase seating capacity.
When Su Chi looked confused, she explained in detail.
She suggested having the Zhou carpenter make a long table the full length of the wall, with stools, specifically for solo diners. The square tables would seat two to four people, and the long table would serve single customers.
After hearing her out, Su Chi’s eyes lit up. Why hadn’t he thought of that?
In his two years of running a stall, he’d noticed that most bun buyers came alone. The four square tables were better suited for families or groups.
A single customer could sit at a four-person table, but if tables were scarce and customers weren’t willing to share, a long table for solo diners would be a lifesaver.
“Whatever you say.” The more Su Chi thought about it, the more practical it seemed.
Xie Yushu was about to add something when she felt a soft, warm, damp touch on her lips. She froze.
She looked down at the culprit in her arms, who’d stolen a kiss and now seemed too shy to look up.
After the sneak kiss, Su Chi burrowed into her embrace, thinking how brilliant and capable his wife was.
He liked her so much.
Then Xie Yushu pulled him out of her arms and kissed him deeply.
Though she’d been tired all day, she suddenly felt energized. Still, she was mindful of his fatigue and only coaxed him twice before letting him sleep.
—
The next morning, after breakfast, they split up.
Xie Yushu went to the Zhou carpenter again to order tables. This time, she measured the wall length herself, and asked for seven or eight stools to go with it, plus two long tables for the kitchen—for holding ingredients and pots.
The carpenter calculated the cost and threw in a wooden board—a signboard for the shop entrance.
Xie Yushu carried it home. She’d write the characters herself and hang it up.
Meanwhile, Su Chi continued shopping for the shop’s supplies.
The pottery shop owner had seen this young husband come by several times in just a few days, each time buying a load of pots and bowls. This time, he bought even more, so the owner gave him a discount. Learning he was opening a shop soon, she offered her congratulations.
Su Chi selected thirty small plates, fifteen small bowls, twenty large bowls, twenty sets of chopsticks and spoons, five or six seasoning jars, a set of kitchen tools like spatulas and ladles, five or six cleaning cloths, and fire tools—buckets, tongs, charcoal baskets, and more.
Luckily, this shop had everything he needed—no need to go elsewhere.
He also bought three more pots: one deep clay pot for braising or soups, and two regular pots for the front stoves. He’d left space on the kitchen counter for two pots, starting with one and adding more later.
He also picked out a dozen new steamers and steaming cloths. With two stoves, he could steam seven or eight layers at a time—fifteen or sixteen total, more than enough.
Seeing how much he’d bought, the shopkeeper offered to have a helper push a cart with him back to his shop.
Su Chi smiled and agreed.
At the counter, the shopkeeper tallied up the bill:
Small plates: two for one wen. Small bowls: two wen each. Large bowls: three wen each. Chopsticks and spoons: one wen. Steamers: five wen each. Deep clay pot: one hundred and sixty wen. Regular pots: one hundred and twenty wen each. Other odds and ends: ninety wen.
Total: six hundred and eleven wen. The shopkeeper rounded it down, then generously knocked off another twenty wen—five hundred and eighty wen.
Pleased with the discount, Su Chi paid and followed the helper’s cart to his shop.
Back home, he tallied the expenses again:
Shop renovation: one guan. Meat and vegetables: over one hundred wen. Pottery supplies: five hundred and eighty wen. The long tables and stools: four hundred and thirty wen.
From the eleven guan three qian he’d had, only nine guan one qian remained.
He’d bought almost everything needed for the house and shop. For Su Chi, the terrifying spending spree was finally over. He let out a long sigh of relief.
—
A few days before the official opening, Su Chi set up his stall early. This time, he was mainly letting his regular customers know he was opening a shop—his wife called it “advertising.” If he opened quietly, his old customers wouldn’t know, and he’d lose a valuable customer base.
Since this was his last day at the stall, he packed light—only two jars of filling. He assembled his stall at the sesame oil shop, and soon customers began arriving.
A few regulars hadn’t seen his stall for days and thought he’d stopped. Seeing him again, they were relieved. “Boss, you’re finally back! I’ve been miserable without your buns—I even tried other places, but they just don’t taste the same.”
Before Su Chi could answer, another customer noticed: “Boss, you got married? That’s why you’ve been gone!”
Seeing his married man’s bun, they realized he’d been away for his wedding. Everyone offered congratulations and bought extra buns.
Su Chi wrapped up their orders with a smile. “Yes, and I’ve also been busy setting up a shop. I’ll be opening in a few days.”
Someone was startled. “A shop? You’re finally opening a shop?”
Su Chi’s eyes curved with a faint smile. “In a few days. Come by when you can—it’s the second shop on the corner of the main street.”
“Great! I’ll be there—got any new varieties?”
Su Chi nodded. “Yes, come and see for yourself.”
Everyone said they would.
The sun climbed higher, and Su Chi’s filling jars quickly emptied.
On his way home, he counted: he’d told twenty or thirty people about the new shop today.
The “advertising” had worked.
Now he could focus on preparing new items for the shop.
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