After the noon meal was finished, Ye Youchun, being perceptive, quickly and efficiently helped clear the dishes and chopsticks they’d used. She found a rag and wiped the table clean, and even went ahead and tidied up the tables and dishes left by customers who had already left.
She worked silently the entire time, getting everything done neatly and quickly. Watching her work, Su Chi and Xie Yushu could tell she was reliable.
Xie Yushu and Ye Youchun still had business to attend to and had to leave right after eating. Before they left, Su Chi wrapped up the remaining fried flatbreads from the bamboo tray and handed them over, so they’d have something to eat if they got hungry in the afternoon.
He walked them to the door, reached out to straighten Xie Yushu’s collar, and patted the dust off her shoulders, saying softly: “It’s freezing out there. Come back early tonight.”
Xie Yushu’s gaze lingered on her fulang. She felt that even the hot soup she’d just drunk wasn’t as warming as he was. She gave a low reply.
Glancing inside the shop—there was only one dine-in customer left, sitting with his back to them, and Ye Youchun was waiting for her out front—Xie Yushu seized the moment. She caught Su Chi’s hand, lowered her head, and pressed a kiss to his fingertips, then quickly let go.
Su Chi’s ears turned red at her bold move. He was about to say something, but when he looked up, Xie Yushu had already turned and walked away, leaving only her brisk silhouette behind.
This woman… this woman really was something—and they were still in the shop!
He pressed a hand to his chest and slowly made his way back to the kitchen. It wasn’t until a customer called out for the bill that Su Chi finally composed himself.
After another quarter of an hour, Su Chi boiled a pot of hot water and washed all the piled-up dishes and bowls in the kitchen sink. Then he organized the remaining buns on the front counter into a few bamboo steamers. The ones left over could be cleaned. There wasn’t much bun filling left for today, and he didn’t plan to make more.
There weren’t many customers at this hour. He wrapped a few more portions of wontons to have on hand, while only a few casual customers came by for flatbreads and buns.
He’d expected the buns to sell well, but he hadn’t anticipated the fried flatbreads being so popular. They could be eaten morning, noon, or night, and they sold fast.
The three large bamboo trays he’d fried that morning were already empty. Su Chi quickly fried another batch, filling half a tray and covering it with a white cloth.
Now that things had quieted down and everything that needed to be done was done, Su Chi took the opportunity to make chili oil in the shop.
He always kept a jar of chili oil at home because Xie Yushu loved it. It was also used quickly in the shop—customers who could handle spicy food would always ask him to add an extra spoonful to their wontons, saying it was so fragrant it was addictive, and it made the broth even better. They’d slurp down the whole bowl and feel warm all over.
Feeling confident, Su Chi prepared two different types of chili for this batch—one spicy, one fragrant—so the resulting chili oil would have richer, more layered flavors.
He wasn’t sure if his father had any more chili peppers at home. He only had a little left on hand, enough for a few days at most. He’d need to have Ye Youchun take a message back to the village.
Su Chi silently calculated how many days his chili supply would last as he poured the crisp, dried chili peppers out of the small cloth bag. He checked each one—all good, none spoiled.
He switched to a larger mortar and pestle, grinding the dried chilies in batches.
After both types of chili were ground into a fine powder, he added a few drops of white liquor to enhance the aroma, mixed it in, and drizzled in a tiny bit of raw oil to prevent the chili powder from burning when the hot oil was poured over it later.
The oil used for pouring over the chili powder also required care—others might not be as meticulous as Su Chi. He first infused the oil with spices by frying them, then poured it over the chili powder in small, repeated batches, filling the entire shop with a pungent, spicy fragrance. Finally, he added an appropriate amount of salt and five-spice powder, stirred gently, and let it cool before storing it in jars.
Customers in the shop all said his chili oil was fragrant and delicious with anything. After he finished, he divided this batch into small individual jars, each with a small spoon, so every table could have one.
This way, customers could add as much or as little spice as they liked, without having to bother him each time—saving him the trouble of running back and forth.
He’d made two types of chili oil this time: one fragrant but not spicy, and one both fragrant and spicy—catering to customers with different preferences.
·
At the bluestone compound, the four employees worked diligently, giving Xie Yushu little to worry about. But recently, she’d noticed a major issue.
Her base provided two meals a day for the employees—lunch and dinner. Xie Yushu had previously arranged for He Chao’s father to cook for everyone, with a monthly budget for rice, flour, vegetables, and meat.
However, she’d noticed over the past few days that their meals weren’t as hearty as she’d expected—as if Father He was being overly frugal.
Later, she found an opportunity to ask, and it turned out that Father He thought the food budget she’d given them was too generous, and they all felt guilty about it. So the adults had gotten together and decided to save part of the money instead, using it to buy more wooden racks for the drying yard or saving it to return to her later.
They’d said there was no need for them to eat meat and good food at every meal. Their wages were already so generous, and now the boss was feeding them so well every day—they felt bad about it and thought they should just eat simply.
Hearing this absurd answer, Xie Yushu’s head was spinning.
So it was all because her employees were too honest and hardworking.
Her heart felt both sour and warm.
But how could people doing physical labor not eat meat? Xie Yushu absolutely did not agree with them depriving themselves. It wasn’t as if she, as their boss, was so poor she couldn’t afford to feed them.
Managing subordinates couldn’t be done entirely by instinct—there needed to be rules and regulations. Otherwise, bigger problems would arise later. Xie Yushu felt it was necessary to adjust their responsibilities.
“Uncle He, you don’t need to be in charge of cooking anymore. From now on, Xiu He will handle that.” Xie Yushu rubbed her brow, a bit exasperated.
She knew Xiu He had cooked for his family before, and his skills were passable—probably the most capable among them. Being a young fulang, he’d certainly be more meticulous.
He Chao’s father had no objections—he’d follow whatever the boss said.
Xiu He also nodded in agreement. He could do whatever was needed.
Xie Yushu pulled him aside to speak privately: “From now on, I’ll give you a food budget each month. Whatever you buy and how much it costs, write it all down. Don’t be stingy with the money, and don’t listen to the others. You all do heavy labor and need oily, meaty food to keep up your strength. When you cook, don’t skimp on oil or meat.”
“I understand.” Xiu He took the money Xie Yushu handed him, his expression showing he wouldn’t let her down.
Xie Yushu sighed, sat down on an empty chair, picked up a brush, and tried to write out a few rules and regulations for their bluestone base.
She racked her brain and came up with two rules, but couldn’t think of any more for now, so she set it aside. She stood up, called for everyone to take a break, and handed out the fried flatbreads that Su Chi had packed for her.
Little He Xi and little Xiu Wei each got one too, sitting obediently beside her to eat.
Xie Yushu watched the two little ones eating happily, occasionally wiping their mouths for them, and they smiled back at her.
The four adults also sat down with their flatbreads. He Chao and Xiu He were close and always sat together to eat—today was no different.
They both liked spicy, bold flavors. A few days earlier, Xie Yushu had brought them a small jar of chili oil from home. After tasting it, they’d fallen in love with it, only daring to use a tiny bit each time for fear of running out.
This chili oil made everything taste fragrant—with congee, with steamed buns, it made every bite delicious.
The last time they’d eaten it, they’d whispered about it among themselves.
“This chili oil is so fragrant,” Xiu He remarked, then asked curiously, “Did the boss’s fulang make it?”
“Of course! This chili oil is so good I could eat two big bowls of rice with it.” He Chao answered his question first, then added with admiration, “And Su Fulang really can make anything, and everything he makes is delicious. All those things the boss brought last time were made by Su Fulang too.”
“Yeah, even when we’re stuffed, we still want more,” Xiu He agreed.
“And Su Fulang is also…” He Chao hesitated. “He must be good-looking.” When he’d taken He Xi to Xie Yushu’s wedding feast, he hadn’t actually seen Su Chi’s face. But thinking about it, with a boss who looked like that, her fulang couldn’t be far behind—they were surely both equally attractive.
Xie Yushu kept Su Chi’s instructions in mind. She double-checked the order quantities for the merchants she’d negotiated with that morning, calculated the delivery dates, and cross-referenced the kelp purchase records Xiu He had been keeping with her own sales records. After finishing all this, she headed home early.
Before leaving, she told them to wrap up their work and rest early. It would be dark soon, and the He family and Aunt Hong San lived a distance away—the roads were hard to travel in the dark, with no streetlights on the village dirt paths.
Xiu He and Xiu Wei lived right at the bluestone compound, watching over the base’s supplies, so she trusted them to keep things in order.
When she reached the lane entrance, the alley was shrouded in thick darkness, but the glow of everyday life was even more vivid than during the day.
Light seeped through the cracks of each household’s doors, white smoke rose from chimneys, and the clatter of pots and pans echoed through the walls from every kitchen, mixed with the calls of fulangs telling their children to come home for dinner. All these sounds spread through the lane.
When Xie Yushu arrived at her doorstep, the two lanterns on the wooden gate had already been lit—she didn’t know when. Their warm glow illuminated the path in front of the house.
Standing in that light, she thought about how there was someone at home waiting for her. There seemed to be nothing more reassuring and heartwarming than that.
She pushed the gate open. The yard was quiet and empty.
She’d grown used to Su Chi’s soft, welcoming voice greeting her the moment she returned, and him happily coming out to meet her. But where was he?
Just as she was about to go look for him, footsteps sounded from the doorstep. Xie Yushu turned around—it was Su Chi.
“You’re back?” Seeing Xie Yushu, Su Chi’s brows relaxed.
“Where did you go?” Xie Yushu walked over and took his hand, a hint of complaint in her voice.
She’d told him to come back early, yet he wasn’t waiting at home—she’d nearly gone out to look for him.
Su Chi held up the soy sauce jar in his hand and explained patiently: “We ran out of soy sauce at home, and the sauce shop was already closed. I just went to the Zhao household to borrow some.”
So that was it. Xie Yushu felt relieved.
The two entered the kitchen. Su Chi set the jar down on the table and took her hand, wanting to discuss something.
“I… I want to hire someone to help me.”
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