Setting Up Stalls – Chapter 239

The Portions Are Too Small

Sun Miao wasn’t the only one who thought so. Yabi Mei next to her was also grinding her teeth in frustration, feeling an overwhelming urge to smack Hip-hop Mei on the back or the butt. The people behind them also felt that Hip-hop Mei was, at times, really asking for it.

And those times were quite frequent.

For instance, when she was gloating about being first in line, or when she ate something delicious and then taunted the people in the group chat who hadn’t come…

It was a good thing they hadn’t flaunted it to Tong Yuwei when they went to Sun Miao and Su Ruixi’s place for beef patties before. Otherwise, Tong Yuwei would have undoubtedly hit them with a few barbs in a yin-yang, strange manner¹.

This time, someone from the back of the line spoke up. “Little Boss Sun! Teach her a lesson! Let her get hit by some oil spatter, then she’ll know not to stand so close!”

“Don’t lean on the food cart! Don’t let your spit actually get in there!”

Everyone only said these things because they knew Hip-hop Mei was easygoing; otherwise, they wouldn’t dare. When Hip-hop Mei heard them, she didn’t take it seriously at all. Instead, she snorted. “You’re all just jealous I got to be first! And spatter on me? How is that possible? Little Boss Sun’s skills are amazing! That tiny bit of oil spatter—isn’t it perfectly under her control!”

“When I bought fried skewers before, so many were being fried at once, and I stood so close, but I never got spattered on! You’re all just jealous!”

Sun Miao was stunned. Hip-hop Mei had just praised her, both overtly and subtly. And right to her face, too. It sounded a bit like she was patting a horse’s flank², but given Hip-hop Mei’s intelligence, Sun Miao felt she probably wasn’t capable of such seamless flattery.

The youmoutou³ were ready in a moment. Hip-hop Mei and Yabi Mei both hit the purchase limit, each ordering four. Hip-hop Mei wanted three bowls of hulatang⁴, and Yabi Mei wanted two. Sun Miao took out a large insulated container, opened the lid, and began ladling the soup for them while Hip-hop Mei paid.

Hip-hop Mei always overpaid. This time was no different. Too lazy to calculate the total, she simply scanned and paid two hundred.

After paying, she and Yabi Mei took the packed hulatang and youmoutou from Sun Miao and went to a nearby table to start eating. It was hard to say if the reason they came so early every time was to claim this specific table.

Opening the lid of the hulatang bowl and taking out a disposable spoon, Hip-hop Mei started by properly scooping it up. But after just one mouthful, she decided it was too much trouble and lifted the bowl to drink directly. The hulatang, fresh from the insulated container, was still piping hot, but Hip-hop Mei finished it off with a few loud slurps.

She smacked her lips, feeling like she hadn’t really tasted anything.

But it was as delicious as ever. It was precisely because it was so delicious that she felt it was far from enough; that one bowl went down like swallowing a date whole⁵. Fortunately, Hip-hop Mei had bought three full bowls. She opened another one and called over to Sun Miao, “Little Boss Sun, this hulatang isn’t spicy, just a bit hot.”

Before Sun Miao could explain, Yabi Mei, sitting across from her, answered. “Hulatang isn’t supposed to be chili-spicy. The ‘spiciness’ comes from white pepper powder. I had it when I visited Yu Province before. Little Boss Sun’s version is very similar to the one from Xiaoyao Town, just with a less intense medicinal herb flavor.”

As a formidable person who could wear a form-fitting gothic lolita maid outfit in temperatures approaching 40°C, Yabi Mei ate her hulatang with particular grace. Today, her nails were painted a pale blue. She delicately tore the youmoutou into pieces and dropped them into her hulatang to soak before eating.

“Ooh, so that’s how it is.” Seeing what Yabi Mei was doing, Hip-hop Mei copied her, taking out a youmoutou to do the same.

But Hip-hop Mei could never resist. She picked one up and, unable to help herself, took a big bite first and worried about the rest later.

The method for making youmoutou is identical to that for youtiao, but the final product is somewhat different.

It’s smaller and more irregular in shape, which gives it an interesting look, and it’s also a bit puffier. In terms of color, the two are quite similar, both a golden yellow.

Furthermore, the fried foods Sun Miao made always looked quite dry and clean. They weren’t especially greasy; lying there in the oil-absorbing paper, they barely left a mark. This made the youmoutou look even more appetizing.

Holding the small piece in her hand, Hip-hop Mei truly couldn’t resist, but after eating it, she had no regrets.

After one bite, she discovered it wasn’t completely crispy. On the contrary, after a few bites, it revealed a soft, chewy resilience, giving it an elasticity and a layered texture. It was the kind of food that became more fragrant the more you chewed, but it wasn’t tough to bite through. It combined the fluffiness and crispiness of a youtiao, and it even made a “crunch, crunch” sound in your mouth.

It was just too small. Hip-hop Mei demolished one in no time.

To be honest, the youmoutou wasn’t that small—it was at least longer than the span of her hand. It was purely because Hip-hop Mei ate so fast that she felt it was small. After finishing the first one, she devoured another before remembering she was supposed to eat it with the hulatang.

This time, she really did as Yabi Mei did, taking out her third one, tearing it into pieces, and dropping them into the hulatang. She let the soup soak in completely before scooping it out with a spoon and putting it in her mouth. There was nothing else to say: at that moment, the youmoutou had a completely different texture. It became much softer, losing its chewiness but growing more and more fragrant as she ate.

Just what kind of person could have come up with such a stunningly transcendent pairing!

Hip-hop Mei buried her head in her food. In the mere ten minutes since she had gotten her hulatang, she had already finished all three bowls and four youmoutou. She truly felt it: she still hadn’t bought enough.

She ate too quickly. Now she just sat there, watching Yabi Mei eat, her gaze occasionally drifting to the other two seated customers. Yabi Mei ate slowly and deliberately, her movements calm. The other two, who knew of Hip-hop Mei but weren’t acquainted with her, clutched their hulatang bowls tightly, as if afraid she would try to snatch their food.

Seeing their actions, Hip-hop Mei was shocked. “What are you guarding it for! You think I’m going to steal your food?!”

The two were too busy eating their hulatang to bother talking to her, simply eating with even more focus. Besides them, the other regular customers, whether sitting or squatting nearby, were also engrossed in their food. For a moment, the only sound was the “slurp, slurp” of people drinking soup.

Just then, Yabi Mei finished. She elegantly wiped her mouth with a napkin before commenting on Hip-hop Mei’s earlier statement. “You might. It’s not the first or second time you’ve wanted to steal mine.”

“But I’ve never tried to steal from anyone else but you!”

“…Thanks, I guess.”

Bickering, the two gave up their seats. They also automatically cleaned up their own trash from the table, tossing it into the large trash can Sun Miao had brought.

Yabi Mei was about to leave, but Hip-hop Mei stood there like a pillar. Then she turned to Sun Miao and said, “Little Boss Sun, isn’t your bowl a little too small? I finished it before I could even get a good taste. The portion size isn’t right. The ones sold elsewhere are much bigger.”

Sun Miao was holding a disposable bowl, ladling soup for the next customer. Hearing her, she subconsciously glanced at the bowl in her hand.

“It’s not. It’s a standard-sized disposable bowl.”

Sun Miao explained that her bowls weren’t the extra-large kind specifically for soup, nor were they the small kind for rice. They were the medium-sized bowls you’d typically get when buying rice noodles from a street vendor.

But Hip-hop Mei wasn’t satisfied. “It’s still too small! I’m telling you, Little Boss Sun, you should switch to those giant bowls they use for pickled fish soup!”

—In your dreams.

Sun Miao rolled her eyes at Hip-hop Mei and ignored her, continuing to serve the soup. She paused midway to clean up the table, then put her gloves back on and went back to ladling soup and frying youmoutou.

Unexpectedly, a little while later, many other customers followed in Hip-hop Mei’s footsteps, coming over to tell her, “I finished it before I could even get a good taste. Little Boss Sun, is your bowl too small? I really think you could switch to a different disposable bowl!”

Sun Miao explained tirelessly, “It’s the standard size. This is normal. I used these same bowls for the duck blood vermicelli soup and the chicken soup mini wontons.”

“I just think it’s a bit small!”

Is it possible you’re all just eating too fast?

There were quite a few people who liked hulatang. Sun Miao had started selling at six, but by eight, she was completely sold out. If it weren’t for the fact that the youmoutou had to be fried on the spot, she probably could have packed up even earlier. Sun Miao looked at the few remaining uncooked youmoutou, thinking of just calling it a day and heading home.

But after the last time she set up her stall, when a customer had asked for just brown sugar shaved ice, they had opened a new door. “No way, Little Boss Sun! Even though they’re sold as a set, you still have uncooked youmoutou! Give them to me, I’ll eat them!”

The days when she could secretly hold back a couple of zongzi⁶ for herself were, from this point on, gone and never to return.

Sun Miao had no choice but to sell off every last youmoutou before she could start packing up. Those at the back of the line who didn’t get any were still unwilling to give up. “Little Boss Sun, you prepared way too little! Look at us! We rushed over here on a Sunday morning, got on the subway as soon as it started running! Why do you think we came so early? Wasn’t it all for your food?! Woo woo woo, why didn’t you make more!”

Heaven knows, she really had made a lot. “I made plenty. There are just too many people.”

If that wasn’t the case, she wouldn’t have kept urging people, even in interviews, “Please don’t come wait in line, you won’t be able to get any.” She always had this feeling that no matter how much she made, she could never keep up with the customers.

Especially when facing these customers who waited until she sold out, Sun Miao always felt they secretly wanted to lock her in a little dark room and force her to make snacks all day.

The customer was a perfect example of hating iron for not becoming steel⁷. “I see other stalls that sell congee and stuff, and they bring five or six huge containers! You only brought two! Look at you, aren’t you wasting all that space on your food cart?!”

Sun Miao still felt they were being unreasonable. “But… but I also sell youmoutou…”

“I don’t care! It’s just not enough to eat!”

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The author has something to say:

Getting my wisdom tooth extracted today. They said it’s pressing on a nerve, so the risk is high. This was posted on a timer this morning. I don’t know if the extraction will be done by this afternoon QAQ

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