Butcher Fulang’s Noodle Shop - Chapter 21
The topic of having a baby had made Song Shi’an feel uneasy, and he couldn’t help but glance at his flat belly, unable to imagine himself ever being pregnant. Fortunately, Xu Zhongyue had just mentioned it casually and didn’t push the matter further.
At lunchtime, Song Shi’an wanted to cook, but Aunt Liu insisted on taking over the kitchen. She playfully scolded him, saying, “Why would you cook as a newlywed couple returning home? Do you think your aunt’s cooking is not good enough?”
They enjoyed a sumptuous lunch, and with the sun shining brightly, both Liu Yu and Liu Lu were feeling drowsy and went off for a nap. This gave Xu Zhongyue the opportunity to run some errands at the Yamen. Seeing that she and Song Shi’an were the only ones remaining, Aunt Liu took them into her nephew’s original bedroom for a private conversation.
Aunt Liu had questions on her mind, but when she saw the mark on Song Shi’an’s wrist, she decided to put off her inquiries. It was a newlywed couple, and Xu Zhongyue had to be passionate for the first wedding night, so last night was particularly intense.
A large hand had gripped Song Shi’an’s wrists so tightly that he couldn’t even struggle to escape, resulting in those marks on his fair skin.
“Here, keep these nourishing pills. Take them on an empty stomach in the morning and at night while you’re at home. After you finish this month’s supply, I’ll buy more for you,” Aunt Liu said as she handed Song Shi’an a beautifully crafted white porcelain pillbox that had an ivory-like appearance, soft and elegant, giving the impression of not being cheap.
“Aunt, you should keep such a precious item for yourself!” Song Shi’an exclaimed.
Aunt Liu chuckled and replied, “This is a proprietary medicine containing astragalus, licorice, and motherwort. It’s best suited for women and children who have struggled with infertility for a long time. How old is your aunt, and yet I should take these pills?”
Song Shi’an didn’t anticipate that Aunt Liu would provide an ancient version of a one-stop service for promoting marriage and childbirth. Aunt Liu affectionately looked at the bright red diamond mark on Song Shi’an’s forehead. It was slightly faint at first but had become a vivid shade of red due to good food and ample rest. It was as beautiful as the mother-of-pearl embellished around it.
When a man marries a woman, the priority is still for the girl’s family to have a child. Shuangers, even though they have some fertility challenges, were still the second choice. This was because most shuangers face difficulties in conceiving, and it was particularly challenging for them to have children.
Aunt Liu had a deep-seated fear that Song Shi’an might not be able to conceive a baby for the butcher within a few years. She worried that the marriage might change if Song Shi’an couldn’t give birth within a year or two, or if the butcher was tempted by someone else.
“You’re young now, but you have to think about the future,” Aunt Liu advised earnestly.
“Some couples have been married for a decade and have traveled to countless nearby Guanyin Temples to pray for children, even wearing out their kneecaps. You should take good care of yourself while you’re young. Next time you return, I’ll take you to see a doctor and have your pulse checked.”
This box of pills was purchased in one go by Aunt Liu, and she even insisted on buying thirty silk handkerchiefs embroidered with lotus leaves, carps, and mandarin ducks playing in the water as a show of her fondness for Song Shi’an, who had always been a filial nephew.
Song Shi’an pouted his cheeks and nodded in response, feeling that there was no way around Aunt Liu’s well-meaning advice.
Song Shi’an was adamant about not wanting to get pregnant and have children, and he secretly hoped that he wouldn’t conceive for at least ten years. That evening, as Xu Zhongyue and he returned to Shuimo Fang Alley, he quietly placed the medicine box under the bed and gazed at the wall, deep in thought.
After Song Shi’an had finished his bath with the remaining water from Xu Zhongyue’s bath, Xu Zhongyue, wearing his robe open, approached and extended his arms to hug him. However, Song Shi’an didn’t turn to face him. His mind was preoccupied with concerns about their future and the pressure to have children.
Xu Zhongyue assumed that Song Shi’an was fatigued from their recent activities, and he believed that Song Shi’an was simply taking out his frustration on him. Thinking it was nothing more than that, Xu Zhongyue did not press the matter further.
Little did Song Shi’an know that when he woke up the next day, he would find himself nestled in Xu Zhongyue’s arms. One of his arms was still draped over the man’s back, while his slender, white legs extended from his loose pajamas. He felt rather exposed as they rested atop the man’s narrow waist. He opened his eyes and saw Xu Zhongyue smiling at him, his dark eyes filled with a reflection of Song Shi’an himself.
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Early that morning, Xu Zhongyue returned from the government office with Song Shi’an’s “ID card.” The original owner had been unceremoniously thrown into a mass grave, and Song Yuchun had already gone to the government office to cancel his account. Xu Zhongyue had only found out about this recently. So, he used his connections among government officials to help, greasing the wheels with some money, and transferred Song Shi’an’s account. He moved him from Song Yuchun’s household to his own.
They not only finalized the divorce between Gao Mingda and unt Liu, effectively ending her ties to the Gao family, but also severed Song Shi’an’s paternal ties with Song Yuchun.
The ancient “ID card” turned out to be a wooden sign containing the holder’s name, home address, and the government office to which they belonged. Song Shi’an found it rather peculiar but placed it in the wooden box with the silver ingots.
As the summer weather grew increasingly hot, Song Shi’an decided to prepare cold noodles for lunch. These noodles were cooked, cooled with cold water, and then mixed with a fragrant sesame sauce, brine, light soy sauce, sesame oil, rice vinegar, white sugar, and a pinch of chili pepper. He then topped them with thinly sliced Jinhua ham, cucumber, and a generous helping of fried peanuts. The resulting dish had a zesty, appetizing, and refreshing taste, with the green cucumber adding an extra layer of delight.
After devouring two large bowls of cold noodles, Xu Zhongyue set off to run errands. Song Shi’an took a bamboo stool and sat down to rest, fanning himself with a cattail leaf fan. As he contemplated reopening his shop, he realized that he had many recipes in mind, but they required a variety of ingredients, causing him some hesitation.
In the midst of his pondering, the half-open door of the courtyard creaked twice. Song Shi’an, feeling somewhat lazy, called out, “Butcher Xu isn’t here at the moment. If you want to buy meat, please come back in two days. We’ll be reopening the day after tomorrow.”
Xu Zhongyue had mentioned that they would be going to the countryside to purchase pigs tomorrow.
The woman who had pushed the door open peered inside with a friendly smile. “Xu Fulang, I’m not looking for Butcher Xu; I’m looking for you!”
She was a familiar face to Song Shi’an, and others referred to her as Aunt He. She also operated a breakfast stall at the pier.
Among the three other stalls, Song Shi’an thought she was the most honest one.
Song Shi’an’s noodle stall, among the four, boasted the best hot dry noodles, bean curds, and siomai. He used high-quality ingredients, so his prices were on the higher side. However, another stall selling noodles followed his lead, but since they didn’t understand the art of making hot noodles, the noodles would become mushy if left out for an extended period.
In an attempt to steal Song Shi’an’s business, the owner of the noodle stall drastically reduced their prices, going from four cents per bowl down to two cents for an unlimited supply. Jealous of Song Shi’an’s success, the owner spread rumors among his old customers, claiming that Song Shi’an’s noodles were problematic and could harm one’s stomach.
This dishonest competition led to the couple who operated the stall continuously picking on Song Shi’an. They even vandalized his stall four times. Song Shi’an was annoyed by their behavior but didn’t want to engage in quarrels or disputes. He maintained his composure and continued to eat his hot dry noodles in front of everyone.
Those porters who enjoyed his food and didn’t mind spend extra money still visited his stall daily.
The other two stalls were located in different spots. One sold porridge and pickles but faced complaints from customers who found the porridge sour-tasting. The stall owner stubbornly insisted that the sourness came from balsamic vinegar and blamed the customers for not understanding the richness of the seasonings.
The other stall, run by Aunt He, served large, filling vegetable buns without any meat. However, these big buns cost two cents each, making them a bit more expensive, which led some porters to frequent the stall.
Before his wedding, Song Shi’an brought Aunt Liu and her cousins to his place. Originally, he planned for them to go directly to the dock to do business, which would bring in a daily income much greater than washing a large basin of clothes or embroidering fully embroidered handkerchiefs.
However, a neighbor reminded him that Aunt Liu had no one to help her at the dock, where the crowd could take advantage of her unmarried daughter, potentially damaging her reputation. Song Shi’an came up with a solution.
He kept the techniques for making hot dry noodles, siomai, and tofu skin a secret and only shared them with Aunt Liu and his cousins. These breakfast items could be prepared in advance as the thick oil helped them withstand cooking.
Every morning, Aunt Liu and his cousins would prepare the food at home and hand it over to others to push to the dock for sale.
Before his marriage, Song Shi’an revealed his plan to Aunt He, who was operating her business alone after her husband’s passing. She had two sons, the eldest being thirteen and the younger just ten. In the difficult life of a poor family, children grow up fast, and even the youngest boy looked much more grown up than his age, knowing how to count money and protect his mother.
Song Shi’an pointed out Aunt He’s honest and hardworking nature, something rarely appreciated by Aunt He’s sister-in-law, who frequently criticized her. He emphasized that doing business shouldn’t involve cheating and deceiving customers and suggested that long-term success required not taking advantage of customers.
He praised Aunt He’s integrity and, to work together, proposed that she pay a 500-copper coins fee as a start. The idea was to form a cooperative business relationship, akin to a franchise, where Song Shi’an would provide assistance and know-how to expand Aunt He’s business.
This way, Aunt He could accumulate savings for a new house and a betrothal gift for her sons, who would start families in the coming years.
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After Aunt He returned home, she had been uneasy for the past few days. Her steamed buns business had always been mediocre, and she could only earn hard-earned money by going out early and coming back late. However, Song Shi’an asked her to pay 500 cents. Being a woman, she was afraid of being cheated.
It was her eldest son who helped her make up her mind. After explaining everything clearly, he made a decision immediately: “Mom, why are you hesitating?”
Shen Fusheng helped his mother analyze, “First of all, Xu Fulang is a person who knows the basics. He is now married to Xu Butcher, and everyone knows they live in Shuimo Fang Alley. If he is lying, he won’t be able to escape. Monks can’t escape from the temple, and we can confront him. Secondly, Xu Fulang makes delicious and refreshing food. You won’t get tired of it after eating. There are many familiar customers. We tried it ourselves, and the taste is truly unique; it’s the only one in Qingjiang Town. He might appear thin and weak, and he only prepared a limited amount of ingredients, but they all sold out. I calculated carefully, and at least more than a hundred portions were sold in a day.”
Shen Fusheng paused a little, “Our family consists of three people, and we can run two stalls. This means two stalls serve three hundred portions. Even if Xu Fulang charges us three cents for one serving of hot dry noodles, it would still be fine. We can earn at least five hundred cents a day! Can you guess why he chose us? We share our duties every day and have never had any conflicts with him. In his business, everyone can make money. Mom, it’s not too late. Don’t let others snatch it away. Let’s go!”