Setting Up Stalls – Chapter 212

This Rice Cake

Shen Yiqiu, however, was very displeased. She shot Father Su a fierce glare. “I told you to wait in line, so just do it.”

Father Su lowered his head and obediently got in line, inching forward with the queue. Ever since he’d made his fortune, he really hadn’t done something like waiting in line. The last time he’d queued up was when Su Ruixi was little, buying pastries that Shen Yiqiu and Su Ruixi, mother and daughter, loved.

In the blink of an eye, twenty years had passed. Standing in the line, he felt a bit dazed.

The wait was long. They were at the very end of the line, and from the time they arrived at 11:00, they waited until 12:15. The date had even changed by the time it was finally their turn.

If they were out sightseeing or doing something else, standing for so long wouldn’t have been a problem for Father Su and Shen Yiqiu. But just standing there idly in line was truly vexing and made their legs sore.

At one point, when Father Su saw Shen Yiqiu massaging her thighs, he couldn’t help but say, “Why don’t you go sit down over there? When it’s my turn, I’ll buy a few extra portions.” Shen Yiqiu replied with a “Okay” and immediately found an empty spot on the edge of a flower bed by the road. At a time like this, there was no room to be a germaphobe; she just smoothed her clothes and sat down.

With only Father Su left in the line they had started together, the time became even harder to endure.

From time to time, voices drifted from the front: “There’s not much left, only 100 skewers of each! People at the back, don’t bother waiting.”

Hearing this, Father Su’s heart clunked once¹. A flash of anger rose in him. He’d already waited this long, and they were telling him to leave? No, even if they told him it was sold out when it was his turn, he was going to see it through! He wasn’t the only one with this idea; the people behind him didn’t move an inch.

Further back, however, some people estimated they probably wouldn’t get a turn and could only sigh, “Ah, why didn’t Little Boss Sun prepare more? It’s going to sell out so quickly.”

Some people at the back left, but there were still many who didn’t believe in heresy² and remained in the queue. Perhaps the pressure from those at the back was too intense, because the number of portions people at the front were buying was no longer as exaggerated as before. There was certainly no one like Lizi, who ordered ten portions in one go.

Finally, it was Father Su’s turn. The young boss in front of him spoke: “How many portions, and what kind of sauce?”

Father Su didn’t even have time to look at the young boss, his eyes fixed on the fried skewers arranged on the plate. They were indeed beautifully fried. Even without sauce, just sitting on the plate, you could see their brilliant golden appearance. Father Su subconsciously swallowed. The aroma of the fried skewers wafting through the air made him crave it so much his stomach was about to rumble.

“Give me…” He was about to ask for more, but he suddenly felt the pressure from the people behind him.

No, at his age and in his position, after so many years, he could actually feel the heavy weight of pressure on his shoulders. The eyes of the diners behind him who hadn’t bought theirs yet—how could those be human eyes? They were clearly the eyes of wolves! It was as if, at that moment, if he dared to ask for too much, this pack of hungry wolves would tear him apart!

A drop of cold sweat slid down from Father Su’s temple. But how could he be someone so easily subdued! His rebellious heart surged, and in the end, fighting against the pressure, he asked for four portions. All with sweet and spicy sauce, and extra spicy.

After scanning the code and taking the fried skewers from the young boss, Father Su puffed out his chest and walked toward Shen Yiqiu. He was like a wolf returning from a hunt, wagging his tail at Shen Yiqiu. “Hungry? Go on, eat. I just got them, they’re still hot.”

But Shen Yiqiu glanced at them. “Why only four portions?”

“…” Wuwu, those were four portions he’d gotten under immense pressure! The others didn’t dare; they only took one or two!

Father Su didn’t dare say it. He just sat down next to Shen Yiqiu and reached out to massage his own sore and aching leg. Shen Yiqiu opened the bag, took out a fried skewer, and handed it to Father Su first. Father Su was a little touched. Just as he was about to say something nice, he looked down—it was a rice cake.

Oh, great! Shen Yiqiu! I wait in line for so long, and you give me a rice cake!

But Father Su still took it and began to eat.

After waiting in line for so long, everyone’s anticipation for the food naturally intensifies. The higher the expectation, the more critical the judgment. If it’s even slightly unappetizing, its flaws will be infinitely magnified. Of course, the opposite could also happen. Because the wait was so long, you’re so hungry that anything you eat at this point will taste delicious.

Father Su didn’t know which category he fell into, but under normal circumstances, the former was more likely, as he was never one to go hungry. Yet, the moment the rice cake entered his mouth, he thought: Did I not eat enough for dinner?

For no other reason than this rice cake was just too delicious.

Lizi had described it briefly before, but words could not capture even a thousandth of how delicious this rice cake was. The outer shell of the rice cake was fried to a crisp. The originally white rice cake had an outer layer that looked puffy from being fried. Under the streetlight, it was as if it were wearing a thin, golden gauze coat.

With one bite, the crispy outer shell, thicker than imagined, exploded in his mouth, making a “crunch crunch” sound. But it wasn’t the kind of excessive crispiness that leaves crumbs everywhere.

At the same time, the sauce that had been brushed on quietly blossomed in his mouth.

Taking another bite, he reached the soft interior. The fragrance of the glutinous rice was instantly released. It was slightly sticky, but after a few more bites, he realized it wasn’t actually sticking to his teeth. Instead, with each swallow, the entire piece of rice cake went down smoothly.

The inside was soft yet had a slight firmness. Enveloped by the sauce, the unique subtle sweetness of the glutinous rice surged forth, making one want to linger on the taste forever.

One point from Lizi’s bullet comments was very true: fried skewers are a food with an extremely low ceiling and floor. This wasn’t about price; after all, tempura in Japanese cuisine could clearly be classified as a type of fried skewer, yet its price was worlds apart from skewers without a batter coating.

However, the “ceiling” in Father Su’s mind was different from what others meant. He was naturally comparing it to the work of top-tier chefs. Whether it was the most famous master of Chinese-style fried skewers, a high-end chef dabbling for fun, or a so-called tempura master, Father Su felt they all tasted more or less the same.

The ceiling was right there. Once the control of heat was the same, the only difference was the seasoning. There was a subtle difference between the most famous masters and ordinary ones; theirs was a bit tastier. But… you couldn’t say it was that much tastier.

Simply put, you couldn’t create a huge gap. For the same dish, like Crab Roe Lion’s Head Meatballs or Braised Abalone in its Original Shell, the results could be worlds apart based on ingredients and a chef’s skill. Even among master chefs, a hierarchy could be established in an instant. But with fried skewers, as long as the technique wasn’t terrible, it wouldn’t taste bad.

But Sun Miao’s fried skewers were different.

Especially the more you ate, the more different they became.

Her fried skewers had a feeling of smoke and fire, rooted in the common streets. They were different from the kind of tempura served on a small plate, looking much cheaper—especially when the two of them were sitting on the street, eating out of a plastic bag, it felt incomparable to something as expensive as tempura.

But the taste in his mouth told a completely different story. Her fried skewers seemed to possess a kind of magic that could dredge up the softest, most genuine memories from the bottom of one’s heart. When Father Su and Shen Yiqiu were children, both their families were poor. Forget glutinous rice; even regular rice was a rarity. Something like glutinous rice appeared in their homes even less frequently. Rice cakes were also scarce. Who would eat rice cakes if it wasn’t for a festival or New Year?

Shen Yiqiu’s family was slightly better off than his back then. She would bring rice cakes to find him and share them. The two of them would sit on a large rock in the mountains, dangling their feet, eating rice cakes together. There was no dipping sauce, just the chili sauce from home.

The chili sauce was potent, but it couldn’t cover up the subtle sweetness of the rice cake, exactly like this moment. Only the setting had changed, from the mountains to a bustling street, but the person beside him was still the person from back then.

Without realizing it, Father Su finished the entire fried rice cake. He couldn’t help but reach into Shen Yiqiu’s bag, rummaging around to pull out the fried starch sausage. The two of them sat close together, eating their fried skewers.

“Is it good?”

Shen Yiqiu asked him. Father Su was a bit embarrassed and only replied, “It’s average.”

Shen Yiqiu scoffed. “Your mouth is covered in oil.”

Father Su’s old face flushed red³. “Can’t be helped. They put too much sauce on this.”

While they were eating, Miao Miao’s Mobile Food Bar sold out. Those who arrived late cried out in unwillingness. Lizi also quickly told the viewers in her livestream, “Everyone, stop coming. If you’re on your way, turn back. It’s all sold out.”

The bullet comments was filled with question marks, but Lizi was still a bit hungry. She licked her lips and realized she hadn’t eaten her fill at all. But she had already finished everything she bought. Lizi quickly tidied up, saw that Sun Miao had a trash can, and hurried over to throw her things away.

Even after selling out, Sun Miao wasn’t in a rush to leave. She first tidied up her food cart a bit, then sat behind it. As customers finished eating, they threw their trash into Sun Miao’s large trash can. Sun Miao played on her phone, but her gaze couldn’t help but drift toward the middle-aged couple.

The middle-aged man who looked so much like Su Ruixi and the middle-aged woman who looked so much like Su Ruixi were actually a couple.

This realization made Sun Miao suck in a breath. She hadn’t thought too much about it before, but now, she had to think deeper: what exactly was the relationship between this couple and Su Ruixi?

There shouldn’t be so many coincidences in the world, that a couple of the right age would happen to look so much like Su Ruixi. But it also couldn’t be such a coincidence that she would just happen to run into Su Ruixi’s parents. At this moment, Sun Miao couldn’t help but feel a little restless. Even the things on her phone, she skimmed over them like seeing ten lines at a glance, as if she hadn’t seen them at all.

She secretly sized them up and truly felt that the two of them looked very much like Su Ruixi.

It wasn’t just their looks; their aura was quite similar too.

She watched for a while, and when others looked around suspiciously, she would lower her head again. She really wanted to ask Su Ruixi, but the current Su Ruixi was surely in dreamland. She agonized over it by herself for a long time, and was still agonizing even when the couple walked up to her to throw away their trash.

---

---