Really, No One’s Buying
Wuwuwu, she was guilty. Her love for Sun Miao was genuine, but she really couldn’t bring herself to set foot on this ground.
When Sun Miao got closer, Su Ruixi still didn’t want to hold her hand. Fortunately, Sun Miao didn’t mind. She had a chicken in each hand; it was right for Su Ruixi not to come hold her hand.
The tour guide was still in a daze when Su Ruixi spoke up. “Help Miaomiao carry some of that.”
“Oh, right, right.”
As if waking from a dream, the guide finally went over, took some of the things from Sun Miao’s hands, and walked on with them.
Back at the hotel, Sun Miao began preparing the dapanji1, while Su Ruixi took the documents provided by the System and went to negotiate with the hotel management about setting up a stall. Su Ruixi’s eloquence in such matters was something Sun Miao could only look at the dust of and never reach2. Before Sun Miao had even registered that she’d left, Su Ruixi was already back in the room, announcing to Sun Miao:
“It’s all set. We can set up the stall starting at six p.m. and stay as late as twelve.”
“Susu-jie, you’re amazing! I should be able to sell out by twelve, right?”
Su Ruixi crossed her arms and leaned against the kitchen doorframe, looking far more confident than Sun Miao herself. “Of course you can. The one you made for me yesterday, without the System’s teaching, was exceptionally delicious. Forget 588 yuan3 a serving; I’d think 15884 was a bargain.”
“1588, that’s too black-hearted.”5
After a brief chat, Su Ruixi left Sun Miao to her work. She went back to the bedroom and, with nothing better to do, found some work-related tasks to keep herself busy.
A true king of involution6 will find work to do when they’re bored.
Meanwhile, Sun Miao was also diligently preparing for her evening stall.
Come to think of it, if it weren’t for the System, she never would have known that Xinjiang7 dapanji wasn’t some ancient, time-honored delicacy. Its earliest origins traced back to the 1980s, created by the owner of a small roadside diner in Shawan County, Xinjiang.
The story went that an employee from a construction company came in to eat. He tried the laziji8 and found it delicious, but the portion was too small. Just then, he saw the owner emerge from the back kitchen with a whole chicken and insisted that the owner cook the entire bird as laziji. The chicken was quite large and couldn’t fit in an ordinary bowl, so the owner had to use a large platter, the kind normally used for serving kudai mian.9
And so, it came to be called “dapanji.”
In the beginning, dapanji was indeed a type of laziji. But over the years, it has evolved its own distinct cooking process, completely separating itself from laziji in the public consciousness. It has become a famous Xinjiang specialty, a must-order dish for anyone visiting the province.
It has even spawned many different variations, such as Mushroom Chicken, Green Bean Chicken, and Frozen Tofu Dapanji.
However, although it was now different from laziji, there were still many similarities in its preparation, such as… the use of peppers. Dried chilies were the absolute soul of the dish. A dapanji made without the foundational flavor of dried chilies was inauthentic, impure. A true dapanji had to have the wild heat beloved by the people of the Northwest and the numbing sensation favored by the old-timers of Sichuan.
The System had been right about one thing: the non-spicy version Sun Miao had made for Su Ruixi was a defilement of the dapanji name, an offense for which she ought to give her apologies to the people of Xinjiang!
If not for that, it probably wouldn’t have stepped in directly to demand that Sun Miao relearn how to make dapanji—to create the original, exquisite delicacy where the collision of spice and savory chicken brought forth an experience of freshness, heat, and numbness.
This time, Sun Miao had spent nearly a month in the System’s space. The time spent learning to cook wasn’t very long; most of it was spent with the System grabbing her by the ear and constantly emphasizing: “Respect the food!”
Sun Miao found this strange and ended up arguing with the System.
“Why can’t I make a non-spicy dapanji?”
【Because it goes against the dish’s fundamental character.】
“But people eat food because they want to eat something that is delicious and enjoyable to them. If I make the original, spicy dapanji, Susu-jie won’t be able to eat it at all. For her, it wouldn’t be a delicacy in the slightest.” On her culinary journey, Sun Miao had already begun to form her own philosophy.
Standing in the System’s space, facing the void where the System resided, her own soul shone brightly. “In fact, dapanji itself just evolved from laziji. It began because that first chef wanted a different kind of laziji, so he started innovating by combining it with local tastes. If he could turn laziji into dapanji, then why can’t I create a non-spicy dapanji? Who knows, if enough people eat it, ‘non-spicy dapanji’ could become a new variety of its own.”
The System was no match for her in a debate. It didn’t understand the human heart, and besides, it had to admit: Sun Miao seemed to be right; that really was how it worked.
So, unable to come up with a rebuttal, the System could only start to pester unreasonably and act shamelessly: 【Regardless, the host must complete this mission.】
“I never said I wouldn’t.”
And that was how it happened. After finishing the ten portions of dapanji, Sun Miao went to take a shower. Between killing the chickens and cooking ten servings, the smell clinging to her was truly moving10. If she didn’t wash up, Susu-jie would surely start teasing her about being “marinated through.”
When she came out of the shower, Su Ruixi had already closed her laptop and was waiting for her. She had even called the tour guide over.
“You don’t need to help, I can manage on my own.”
They had one of those small camping carts, and Sun Miao planned to just load everything into it and pull it downstairs herself.
Su Ruixi insisted, “It’ll be faster with us helping you.”
The tour guide added with a smile, “Mainly, I’d like to buy a serving to try it myself. I’ve had plenty of the local dapanji, but I’m curious to taste what yours is like, Miss Sun.” In reality, she was a little worried that Sun Miao wouldn’t be able to sell any, which would put her two clients in a terrible mood and reflect poorly on her service.
It was only because Su Ruixi was paying her so handsomely that she was willing to spend 588 yuan on a single serving, just to ensure Sun Miao made at least one sale, so it wouldn’t be that not a single portion was sold. That’s right—she truly didn’t think Sun Miao could sell any.
Sure, she had been stunned by the style Sun Miao displayed at the market, her deft hand dispatching the chicken as the blade fell11, but she simply couldn’t believe anyone would buy dapanji for 588 yuan a serving. People weren’t fools. How much did the local version cost? Selling it for 588, wasn’t that treating everyone like a big-headed sucker to be fleeced?12
At 588 yuan a serving, the tour guide wouldn’t think it could be sold, even if the Queen Mother of the West13 herself showed up.
But she couldn’t just say that and offend her two clients. She had to consider their feelings, otherwise she wouldn’t have offered to buy it. If her friends or family found out she’d spent 588 yuan in Xinjiang for dapanji made by an outsider, they would probably laugh at her from the beginning of the year to the end.
When they went downstairs to set up their stall under the second streetlight outside the hotel entrance, it was exactly 5:45 p.m. Sun Miao had not only made the ten portions of dapanji but had also prepared their dinner. She tried to persuade Su Ruixi to go back upstairs and eat first instead of waiting out here with her, but Su Ruixi was insistent, wanting to wait until Sun Miao sold everything so they could eat together.
Su Ruixi was a particularly stubborn person; once her bull-headedness came out, there was no holding her back. Sun Miao knew Su Ruixi’s personality well, so she didn’t press the issue and just nodded.
They set up the small table, covered it with a red-and-white checkered tablecloth, and arranged the ten portions of dapanji on top. Finally, they placed a small sign, handwritten by Su Ruixi herself.
——Xinjiang Shawan Dapanji, 588 yuan per serving. Not affiliated with the hotel, personal stall. No bargaining.
The addition of those last two words made the whole message feel incredibly stiff. In an instant, she had gone from being a friendly little stall owner to a great villain guilty of the ten unpardonable evils14. But Su Ruixi’s bluntness preemptively blocked off all the potential problems Sun Miao might face. At worst, people might stand nearby and mutter about her being a black-hearted profiteer, but the kind of face-to-face insults she’d endured before were now out of the question.
As soon as they opened, the tour guide, true to her word, came over and bought a serving. Sun Miao could see right through her; she wasn’t buying it because she thought it would be delicious, but purely so that “I won’t get super upset because I didn’t sell a single portion, which would then affect the tour guide’s performance review.”
Ugh… leaving aside whether I’d sell any, even if I really didn’t sell a single one, we wouldn’t be upset about it.
Sun Miao certainly wouldn’t be. Hmm… Susu-jie might be a little unhappy, but she would never let it affect her performance review, because Susu-jie is the type to be strictly professional. She would never let her personal mood influence others. Sun Miao was certain of this.
Still, the guide was buying it out of kindness. If Sun Miao refused to sell it to her, she might just ask a friend to come buy one instead, so Sun Miao simply sold it to her without another word. Sun Miao was also confident that once the guide tasted this dapanji, her opinion would change.
The tour guide paid with a smile and took the dapanji. However, to both Sun Miao’s and Su Ruixi’s disappointment, she didn’t eat it right away. Instead, she said with a smile, “I’ll wait until Miss Sun is done with her stall to eat it at home. Miss Su hasn’t even eaten yet, how could I possibly eat now?”
“Or would you like some, Miss Su? We could eat it together.”
Su Ruixi shook her head, knowing this portion was extra spicy. If it had been mildly spicy, she might have actually mustered the courage and interest to ask the guide for a few bites. But this was extra spicy! Su Ruixi was curious about the taste of spicy food, but she wasn’t about to make a joke of her own mouth!
Besides, even if I were to eat something spicy, I’d do it in private with Sun Miao. I can’t very well get red-faced and teary-eyed in front of a stranger in public… Su Ruixi was very conscious of her face!15
After that, business hit a bottleneck. The words Su Ruixi had written were far too potent. From a distance, some clueless people thought Sun Miao was running an official takeout service for the hotel, but as soon as they got closer, the words on the sign scared them away. They stood not far from Sun Miao, discussing it amongst themselves, and she heard every word.
For a moment, Sun Miao hesitated, wondering if she should take down the sign. With that sign there, it seemed difficult for her to use her approachable, little sun personality16 to successfully promote her dapanji.
Fortunately, the heavens were still looking out for Sun Miao. Just as they reached a deadlock, a group of familiar faces walked over.
The author has something to say:
Regulars: If they won’t buy it, we will! We’re buying!
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