Setting Up Stalls – Chapter 294

by Little Panda

Extra: Ancient Part [Welfare Extra]¹

When Sun Miao woke up, she realized she had transmigrated.² This wasn’t exactly good news, because she hadn’t wanted to transmigrate at all.

Sun Miao may have been an orphan, but she had been ambitious for years. She’d managed to open her own breakfast shop and was so busy every day that her feet barely touched the ground,³ but business was steaming up day by day.⁴ At the rate she was working, it wouldn’t be long before she could joyfully receive a house of her own.

She’d worked so hard for so many years, all for one thing: a home of her own.

But what a twist. Before she even had a chance to keep fighting for her future, the system made her transmigrate. She was sent to an ancient era in a parallel world.⁵ When she opened her eyes, she had nothing but a small restaurant gifted by the system.

And the system pestered her every day to open the shop and sell its Egg Fried Rice.⁶

After studying for over a month in the System Space, Sun Miao successfully graduated. She had joyfully received a god-tier Egg Fried Rice skill, but now a mix of five flavors surged through her heart.⁷ “With a skill like this,” she grumbled, “you could have dominated even in the modern era.”

Bringing this level of craft to ancient times was nothing short of a dimensionality reduction strike.⁸ Especially… with all the various seasonings.

Sun Miao hadn’t been a great student, and when it came to history, she was basically groping in the dark.⁹ Not to mention this was a parallel world, so she knew nothing at all. But there were some things she did know. For one, “ancient” didn’t mean “stupid.” In terms of brains, they could probably throw her ten streets away.¹⁰ And the ancients had plenty of seasonings, like soy sauce, which had been invented very early on.

Even so, the quality of those seasonings couldn’t compare to what modern industrial development had produced.

Just the salt alone was far beyond the standards of the ancient world.

What’s more, the system had directly outfitted the back kitchen of Sun Miao’s little restaurant with modern equipment. Sun Miao’s eyes went wide when she saw it, but once the shock wore off, she was terrified. “If someone finds out you gave me all this, won’t I be murdered for my goods?”

【…Please rest assured, Host. That will not happen.】

Alright, if the system said so.

The day after mastering Egg Fried Rice, Sun Miao opened for business. But her restaurant was completely ignored.¹¹ First off, its sign was like a square peg in a round hole¹² compared to everyone else’s. Hers was called “Miaomiao’s Delicious Little Restaurant,” while others were named “XX Lounge” or “XX Tower.” Sun Miao’s was in a unique style of its own.

Second, the decor couldn’t compete. It emphasized a kind of primitive style and didn’t really look like a restaurant. Even if you went inside, it was hard to imagine you’d find anything good to eat.

It wasn’t a large establishment. From the front door, you could fit maybe five or six tables before you reached the back kitchen. On top of that, Sun Miao’s attire was, frankly, neither fish nor fowl.¹³ Even when people did wander in, they left quickly.

Sun Miao hadn’t noticed this yet. The clothes she wore were provided by the system—just simple, dark and grimy¹⁴ short-style clothing¹⁵ with a headscarf wrapped around her head. If no customers come today, she thought, I’ll probably have to go into the System Space tonight and accept my punishment of washing dishes.

Time ticked by, second by second, and Sun Miao’s closing time drew nearer. The other lounges had finished their evening business and had already closed up shop.¹⁶ Only Sun Miao’s place still had a little light on.

Just as Sun Miao had completely accepted her fate of washing dishes for three days, someone arrived. It was a horse-drawn carriage. It looked somewhat plain, but you could tell from the workmanship that it belonged to a prominent family.

A maidservant, dressed in men’s clothing but clearly a woman, was sitting on the driver’s shaft. She hopped down first, then lifted the door curtain and helped the person inside the carriage down. Sun Miao felt a jolt of excitement. They’re right at my door. They can’t possibly… not eat anything, right?

The maidservant supported her young lady as she slowly descended from the carriage. She had a graceful figure, and though a veiled hat¹⁷ hid her face, her movements revealed she was a well-bred young lady.¹⁸ The way she walked was the very picture of poise. Once she was off the carriage, she no longer needed the maidservant’s help and walked straight inside.

Seeing that Sun Miao was the only one there, the woman paused, clearly a little surprised. “Are you the shopkeeper?”¹⁹

“Yes, I am. I’m the cook, too. Right now, I only have Egg Fried Rice. Would you like a serving, Miss?”²⁰

“Two servings.”

Perhaps because she saw that only women were in the shop, the young lady and her maidservant took off their veiled hats after sitting down, placing them on a nearby table. The shop may be small, she thought, but it’s kept quite clean. And this shopkeeper, though a woman, carries herself with a confident and easy grace.

But the moment she removed her hat, it sent Sun Miao’s heart thumping wildly.²¹ She had long known her own sexual orientation—she liked women. And as fate would have it, this well-bred young lady’s looks and aura were exactly her type.

Sun Miao felt a stir in her heart, but only a little one. The modern world was hardly tolerant of homosexuality, let alone ancient times. Sun Miao sighed inwardly. The tiny sprout of her affection²² had barely appeared before it had to be snuffed out.

But… her heart’s guest star didn’t look very well. Her face was a little pale, and she kept placing a hand on her upper abdomen, pressing gently. Seeing the motion, Sun Miao understood… it was most likely a stomach ache.

In ancient times, there weren’t many good treatments for a stomach ache. And Sun Miao’s was just a Culinary Arts System; it had nothing to do with medicine.

Honestly, the woman’s stomach ache had nothing to do with her. But… but this was her first customer, and she was exactly her type. Sun Miao felt herself acting cheaply.²³ She didn’t have half a copper coin²⁴ to her name, and the extra side dishes she’d bought were for her own meals. But in the end—she stubbornly cut into her own rations²⁵ and gave the young lady a complimentary bowl of Egg Drop Hibiscus Soup.²⁶

The young lady saw it and was clearly taken aback. Sun Miao said instinctively, “You’re my first customer today, so this is on the house. The soup is hot, be careful.”

“Alright. Thank you very much.”

The young lady ate with great pleasure, and before long, she had finished the bowl of soup and the plate of Egg Fried Rice. She drank the soup all by herself; when the maidservant next to her said, “Miss, let me have a sip,” she paid her no mind.

After they left, Sun Miao stared after them for a long while before finally clearing the table.

Whatever, she thought. At least I sold one serving. I won’t have to wash dishes today.

For the next two days, the young lady returned with her maidservant. She always came very late, after all the other shops had closed, to eat at Sun Miao’s little restaurant. During the day, Sun Miao was quite busy. She had other customers, like the little female physician from the clinic nearby. She was young, much younger than Sun Miao, but she was always on time for work. Whenever she had a break at noon, she would come to Sun Miao’s for a plate of Egg Fried Rice.

Before long, she brought everyone from the clinic with her, and they started treating Sun Miao’s place as their cafeteria.

When the young lady came, Sun Miao would serve her, but she didn’t give her any more soup. She just prepared a bowl of warm water and told the young lady to drink more of it.

Later, the little female physician was being harassed by thugs on the street. Sun Miao stepped forward to help, and when the government runners²⁷ arrived, it was the young lady who intervened, allowing her and the little medical girl to retreat with their bodies whole.²⁸ It was only then that Sun Miao learned the young lady’s name.

She stood there, tall and graceful, her veiled hat hiding her face. The powerful aura she had when facing the thugs and government runners was gone. She listened as Sun Miao announced her own family and name²⁹ to express her gratitude. She paused for a moment before speaking.

“My surname is Su.”

“Miss Su.” Sun Miao followed her lead like flowing water³⁰ and addressed her. But at that moment, Su Ruixi found the title a little jarring. Her brow furrowed slightly. Everyone else called her that, but hearing it from the mouth of this Little Boss Sun, it felt… distant.

It’s as if… we should have a closer relationship. We should be on better terms.

She sighed. So be it, she thought. The two of us were never meant to cross paths. She had been coming for Egg Fried Rice far too often lately. Her parents always said to practice moderation, and this was not moderation. Su Ruixi pressed her lips together. After they left the little restaurant, the maidservant beside her reminded her, “Miss, we have to leave on a long journey tomorrow. That shipment in Guanbei³¹ allows no room for error.”³²

“I know.”

The next morning, the maidservant drove the carriage, taking Su Ruixi far away. But as they passed the little restaurant, she saw no one there. For some reason, Su Ruixi’s heart felt empty and desolate.

Sun Miao noticed it, too. For several days in a row, Miss Su didn’t come. She sighed about it for a few days before the system whisked her away to learn a new dish. When she came out of seclusion,³³ the sign hanging in her little shop had changed from Egg Fried Rice to Malatang.³⁴

The aroma of the spicy Malatang broth attracted quite a few people. But ancient people tended to go home early, so by evening, Sun Miao’s little shop was empty again. She was sitting in the shop, overcome with a hundred kinds of boredom,³⁵ when she heard the sound of horse hooves clopping on the ground. Sun Miao’s spirits lifted;³⁶ she thought Miss Su had returned.

But when she looked up, she saw a woman dressed in flamboyant red, reining in her horse at the shop’s entrance. The woman dismounted and walked inside, waiting for a moment. When another horse approached sluggishly, she called for the rider to hurry up.

Unlike her, the other woman was dressed in black. She looked like she hadn’t slept much; there were dark circles³⁷ under her eyes. After the two entered the shop together, the flamboyant woman asked, “Little Boss, what is this? Why does it smell so fragrant?”

“It’s Malatang.”

Sun Miao explained how to order, and the woman casually tossed down a silver ingot.³⁸ “Here, serve the two of us!”

A rich person.

After seeing the two women off, Sun Miao prepared to close up shop. But a second before she shut the door, she saw a familiar carriage. It slowly approached her, and as it drew near, the maidservant was the first to jump down. She, too, smelled the aroma in the air and asked hurriedly, “Little Boss, is that a spicy smell?”

In this era, chili peppers were still a rare commodity.

Before Sun Miao could answer, Miss Su, from inside the carriage, lightly covered her mouth and nose. “Is it spicy?” Though Sun Miao couldn’t see her expression, she knew she didn’t want to eat spicy food. It was normal; this Miss Su had stomach problems.

Sun Miao explained, “There are two flavors, spicy and non-spicy. The non-spicy one has a bone broth³⁹ base.” Hearing this, Miss Su finally got out of the carriage.

Her pace was a little faster than before. It was clear she was actually very tempted by the Malatang.

In that moment, Sun Miao had a sudden realization. This Miss Su—was an aojiao.⁴⁰

The author has something to say:

Yaji: A heartfelt cameo by my assistant

Sun Miao: She’s an aojiao

Miss Su: What is an “aojiao”?

I’ll be secretly updating this welfare extra!

There probably won’t be a next chapter

Footnotes

Hanzi: 福利番外 | Pinyin: fúlì fānwài | Context: A special bonus chapter or side story given to readers as a treat or “welfare.”
Hanzi: 穿越 | Pinyin: chuānyuè | Context: Literally: “to pass through.” The act of traveling to another world, time period, or into another person’s body. It is a very common genre trope in Chinese web novels.
Hanzi: 脚不沾地 | Pinyin: jiǎo bù zhān dì | Context: An idiom describing someone who is extremely busy.
Hanzi: 蒸蒸日上 | Pinyin: zhēngzhēngrìshàng | Context: An idiom that describes a business or situation that is prospering and improving daily.
Hanzi: 平行世界 | Pinyin: píngxíng shìjiè | Context: A separate reality or universe that the protagonist travels to, a common sci-fi and fantasy concept.
Hanzi: 蛋炒饭 | Pinyin: dàn chǎofàn | Context: A classic and popular Chinese home-style dish made with rice, eggs, and various other ingredients.
Hanzi: 五味杂陈 | Pinyin: wǔwèizáchén | Context: Literally: “five flavors mixed and scattered.” An idiom describing having complex, mixed feelings about something. The five flavors are sweet, sour, bitter, spicy, and salty.
Hanzi: 降维打击 | Pinyin: jiàng wéi dǎjí | Context: A term from the sci-fi novel “The Three-Body Problem,” which has become popular slang. It means to overwhelm an opponent using a vastly superior level of technology, skill, or thinking that they cannot even comprehend.
Hanzi: 摸瞎 | Pinyin: mōxiā | Context: Literally: “groping while blind.” An idiom meaning to be completely ignorant or clueless about a subject.
Hanzi: 甩…十条街 | Pinyin: shuǎi…shí tiáo jiē | Context: Literally: “throws [someone] ten streets away.” A common slang expression for being vastly superior to someone or something.
Hanzi: 无人问津 | Pinyin: wúrényuēfàn | Context: Literally: “no one asks for the ferry crossing.” An idiom describing something being unpopular, ignored, or neglected.
Hanzi: 格格不入 | Pinyin: gégébùrù | Context: An idiom for being incompatible, out of place, or clashing with one’s surroundings.
Hanzi: 不伦不类 | Pinyin: bùlún bù lèi | Context: An idiom describing something that is nondescript, out of place, or doesn’t fit any category.
Hanzi: 黑不溜秋 | Pinyin: hēibuliūqiū | Context: A colloquial, slightly derogatory way to describe something as dark-colored and possibly dirty or unimpressive.
Hanzi: 短打 | Pinyin: duǎndǎ | Context: A type of practical, non-restrictive clothing suitable for labor or martial arts in ancient China, as opposed to long, flowing robes.
Hanzi: 打烊 | Pinyin: dǎyàng | Context: A common term for closing a business for the day.
Hanzi: 帷帽 | Pinyin: wéimào | Context: A type of hat with a veil, often worn by women in ancient times to conceal their face from public view for modesty or protection.
Hanzi: 大家闺秀 | Pinyin: dàjiā guīxiù | Context: Literally: “boudoir excellence of a great family.” A term for a refined, educated, and well-behaved woman from a prominent and wealthy family.
Hanzi: 店家 | Pinyin: diànjiā | Context: A general term for the owner or manager of a shop.
Hanzi: 小姐 | Pinyin: xiǎojiě | Context: A general term of address for an unmarried young woman, equivalent to “Miss” or “Young Lady.”
Hanzi: 心砰砰跳 | Pinyin: xīn pēng pēng tiào | Context: Literally: “heart going peng-peng jumping.” Describes a rapidly beating heart due to nervousness, excitement, or attraction. “Peng peng” is onomatopoeia for the sound of a heartbeat.
Hanzi: 有个苗头 | Pinyin: yǒu gè miáotou | Context: A metaphor for the very beginning signs of a feeling, idea, or situation.
Hanzi: 不值钱 | Pinyin: bù zhíqián | Context: Literally: “not worth money.” Slang for acting foolishly, lowering one’s own standards, or being easily swayed, often out of affection or weakness for someone.
Hanzi: 半个子 | Pinyin: bàn gè zi | Context: A colloquialism for having no money at all.
Hanzi: 口粮 | Pinyin: kǒuliáng | Context: Literally: “mouth provisions.” Food set aside for one’s own consumption; personal food supply.
Hanzi: 蛋花芙蓉汤 | Pinyin: dànhuā fúróng tāng | Context: A light, savory soup. “Danhua” (蛋花) means “egg flower,” referring to the wispy ribbons of cooked egg. “Furong” (芙蓉) means “hibiscus,” a poetic descriptor for the light and delicate texture of the egg.
Hanzi: 官差 | Pinyin: guānchāi | Context: Low-ranking government officials or bailiffs in ancient China, responsible for tasks like making arrests and maintaining order.
Hanzi: 全身而退 | Pinyin: quánshēn’értuì | Context: An idiom meaning to escape from a dangerous or difficult situation completely unscathed.
Hanzi: 自报家门 | Pinyin: zì bào jiāmén | Context: Literally: “to announce one’s own family and gate.” The formal act of introducing oneself by stating one’s name and family background.
Hanzi: 从善如流 | Pinyin: cóngshànrúliú | Context: Literally: “following good advice like flowing water.” An idiom that means to readily and easily accept good suggestions or criticism.
Hanzi: 关北 | Pinyin: Guān Běi | Context: A geographical region, literally meaning “North of the Pass.” This often refers to regions north of a significant mountain pass or the Great Wall.
Hanzi: 不容有失 | Pinyin: bùróng yǒu shī | Context: An idiom that emphasizes the critical importance of a task, meaning it must not fail under any circumstances.
Hanzi: 出关 | Pinyin: chūguān | Context: Literally: “to exit the pass/gate.” Originally from martial arts novels, it refers to emerging from a period of intense, closed-door training. It’s now used more broadly for completing any period of intense study or work.
Hanzi: 麻辣烫 | Pinyin: málàtàng | Context: A popular spicy street food. “Ma” (麻) refers to the numbing spice of Sichuan peppercorns, “la” (辣) refers to chili spiciness, and “tang” (烫) means “hot” or “to scald.” Customers typically choose various ingredients which are then boiled in a communal spicy broth.
Hanzi: 百无聊赖 | Pinyin: bǎiwúliáolài | Context: An idiom meaning to be extremely bored, idle, or listless.
Hanzi: 精神一振 | Pinyin: jīngshén yī zhèn | Context: Literally: “[one’s] spirit is lifted/shaken once.” An idiom describing the feeling of suddenly becoming refreshed, alert, or energized.
Hanzi: 青黑 | Pinyin: qīnghēi | Context: Literally: “bluish-black.” A color descriptor often used for bruises or, in this case, dark circles under the eyes from lack of sleep.
Hanzi: 银锭子 | Pinyin: yín dìngzi | Context: A form of currency in ancient China. These were cast from silver into various shapes, most iconically the “sycee” or “yuanbao” shape.
Hanzi: 骨汤 | Pinyin: gǔ tāng | Context: A savory broth made by simmering animal bones (like pork or chicken) for a long time. It serves as the base for the non-spicy version of the Malatang.
Hanzi: 傲娇 | Pinyin: àojiāo | Context: A loanword from the Japanese “tsundere.” It describes a character archetype who is outwardly cold, hostile, or proud (“ao” 傲) but is inwardly warm, caring, and shy (“jiao” 娇).

Footnotes

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