Setting Up Stalls – Chapter 59

Director Zhang Must Be Sleepless

This night, Director Zhang couldn’t sleep.

Director Zhang, full name Zhang Qiang¹, lay on the large bed in her big house, eyes wide open, unable to sleep because she—hadn’t eaten enough.

From the moment she left Sun Miao’s stall, Zhang Qiang felt like she was full just from anger. She secretly vowed never to eat at that Miao Miao’s Mobile Food Bar again! So what if the Jinling Duck Blood Vermicelli Soup she made was delicious? It was just a Jinling Duck Blood Vermicelli Soup, that’s all!

How dare a small roadside stall owner talk to her like that? Did she think Zhang Qiang couldn’t shut her down here in minutes!

But thinking carefully, if someone running a roadside stall couldn’t continue just because they exchanged a few words with her, then she would seem a bit too excessive. So after her anger subsided, Zhang Qiang still didn’t do anything. She sighed to herself, thinking she was still too much of a person with a sharp tongue but a soft heart².

But she still wouldn’t go back to that Miao Miao’s Mobile Food Bar to eat again. So what if it was delicious? With that kind of personality, not even knowing how to respect the old and cherish the young³, daring to confront her face-to-face like that. Even Su Ruixi, that daughter of the Su family, such a favored daughter of Heaven, didn’t she also have to lower her head and obediently accept criticism in front of her?

Zhang Qiang thought about many things, so much so that she couldn’t sleep well into the night. She tossed and turned in bed, just unable to fall asleep. As soon as she started to drift off, the half-portion of duck blood vermicelli soup she had eaten in the afternoon would forcefully demand attention in her mind.

The texture of that fresh, tender duck blood was like jelly, yet not quite, possessing its own unique mouthfeel. The flavor needed no further description—savory and fragrant with a hint of spice, blooming unrestrainedly in the mouth along with the duck broth. Probably no one could resist this duck blood, especially those who love hotpot; it was hard to imagine how delicious it would be if made into mao ya xue⁴.

But even the duck blood in the not-so-spicy duck blood vermicelli soup was delicious enough to make one want to swallow their own tongue⁵.

Turning over again, the duck gizzards, duck liver, and duck intestines also danced around, telling Zhang Qiang just how tasty they were.

Zhang Qiang closed her eyes in frustration. The slippery vermicelli, coated in broth, seemed to leap upwards, flinging golden broth droplets—a vibrant, beautiful scene appeared in Zhang Qiang’s mind.

At two o’clock in the morning, because of a bowl of duck blood vermicelli soup, Zhang Qiang couldn’t sleep. Her stomach rumbled loudly (gu gu gu); because she had been “full of anger” in the evening, she hadn’t eaten anything else after returning home. That half bowl had truly become her dinner. Director Zhang was getting older; although she looked young due to good maintenance, she was actually sixty years old.

Logically speaking, someone of this age shouldn’t eat too much at night, but Zhang Qiang exercised daily, spending an entire afternoon sweating like rain. How could she not be hungry? Now that the half bowl of vermicelli was digested, wasn’t her stomach naturally growling loud enough to shake the heavens?

Zhang Qiang was not someone who would wrong herself. Although she verbally advocated for young people needing to endure hardship, she herself indulged freely in her current luxurious life. In her view, she had suffered enough when she was young; now that she was old, shouldn’t she enjoy herself?

So even though it was late at night, she still dialed her assistant’s phone number, asking the other party to find her a master chef to make duck blood vermicelli soup.

The assistant was stunned upon receiving this call but still agreed. Climbing out of bed, they began contacting the owners of familiar Jinling master chefs. As Zhang Qiang had mentioned, she had spent a long time in Jinling when she was young, and even now, she quite enjoyed Jinling cuisine. Therefore, the assistant had specifically kept the phone numbers of some Jinling cuisine master chefs and their bosses.

After presumptuously contacting several people, finally, a master chef was willing to prepare Jinling Duck Blood Vermicelli Soup for her boss at this hour.

Actually, the Zhang household had its own master chef, but Zhang Qiang hadn’t contacted her butler but rather her assistant, indicating that she didn’t want to eat the food made by the chef at home, but rather wanted to eat food made by an outside chef.

Because Zhang Qiang was very clear about her own chef’s skills—quite good, but the technique for making duck blood vermicelli soup was just average. Better than some outside places, but catching up to that Miao Miao’s Mobile Food Bar was impossible. Zhang Qiang could only place her hopes on outside chefs, hoping they could bring her a completely new experience.

But Zhang Qiang was destined for disappointment. The master chef arrived at Zhang Qiang’s home at half-past three and began preparing the authentic Jinling snack, duck blood vermicelli soup, for Zhang Qiang in the kitchen.

Zhang Qiang watched from the side, and the chef took the opportunity to explain: “Many places make duck blood vermicelli soup. It isn’t really a native Jinling delicacy, but rather an improved version after being introduced from elsewhere. Originally, it was from Zhenjiang⁶, and it wasn’t called Duck Blood Vermicelli Soup, but Old Duck Vermicelli Soup.”

He spoke as he cooked, which managed to pique Zhang Qiang’s interest somewhat.

“The Old Duck Vermicelli Soup from Zhenjiang, it’s said that a failed scholar from the Qing Dynasty named Mei Ming⁷ created it after failing the imperial exams and going into business. Someone even wrote a poem for his Old Duck Vermicelli Soup, called ‘Zhenjiang’s Old Man Mei excels at food and drink, boiling silver threads in purple clay worth ten thousand taels. A thousand jade belts wind around emerald drops, the white soup shames the Mid-Autumn moon’⁸. There’s another line later that adapts ‘Ducks are the first to know when the spring river warms’⁹; it should be the earliest poem written about Old Duck Vermicelli Soup.”

Hearing him narrate smoothly, Sun Miao’s duck blood vermicelli soup surfaced in Zhang Qiang’s mind again—that vermicelli, indeed like “ten thousand taels boiling silver threads,” and the soup too, truly “white soup shaming the Mid-Autumn”… No, just thinking about it made her hungry again. Especially since the chef’s duck blood vermicelli soup had already started cooking; beneath the boiling steam, the vermicelli tumbled within, revealing a touch of pure white…

Hm? Pure white?

Zhang Qiang realized something wasn’t quite right, because Sun Miao’s vermicelli was slightly yellowish. But she thought: This is a master chef, his skills must be better! Maybe the vermicelli he uses also blows that Miao Miao’s Mobile Food Bar’s out of the water. She had to trust the master chef!

“And ah, unlike Jinling Duck Blood Vermicelli Soup, Zhenjiang’s Old Duck Vermicelli Soup uses goose blood, not duck blood. That’s why it’s called Old Duck Vermicelli Soup; only the broth is made from duck, the offal isn’t. When it spread to Jinling, well, Jinling eats a lot of duck, so everything was changed to use duck, even the broth is stewed from duck carcasses.”

“It’s just a bit embarrassing, I came in such a hurry, there was no time to freshly simmer the broth. I used pre-made soup base cubes from the shop. The flavor might be slightly lacking, but it won’t be too different.”

Hearing the chef’s explanation, Zhang Qiang nodded, indicating she understood. After all, she was the one who had inexplicably summoned him over late at night.

The aroma of the duck blood vermicelli soup also drifted out, strand by strand, amidst the chef’s explanation. This soup’s fragrance was rich, more aromatic than Sun Miao’s, but when it was finally presented before Zhang Qiang, she couldn’t help but ask: “Could you add some pea shoots?”

The master chef’s eyes widened: “Who puts pea shoots in duck blood vermicelli soup?”

—Right.

Zhang Qiang said no more, but sat down, ready to wholeheartedly savor the master chef’s craft. The chef’s expression was very confident; presumably, the duck blood vermicelli soup he made must be delicious.

With this thought, Zhang Qiang picked up her spoon, ready to eat. It had to be said, in terms of presentation, the master chef’s was far superior. Firstly, the tableware was different. The chef used Zhang Qiang’s home tableware—the white porcelain bowl with blue floral patterns had been bought at great expense, the chopsticks were solid wood, costing several hundred yuan per pair, and the spoon shone brightly white.

Enhanced by the tableware, this bowl of duck blood vermicelli soup clearly ascended several levels in class. Moreover, the chef had deliberately arranged it: the vermicelli lay hidden beneath the pale white soup, while atop were neatly arranged various ingredients—duck blood, tofu puffs, duck gizzards, duck intestines, etc., fanned out, waiting for Zhang Qiang to stir them with her chopsticks.

The duck broth emitted wisps of fragrance, prompting the already hungry Zhang Qiang to dip her spoon in. The soup was pale white yet richly fragrant. Zhang Qiang took a sip and fell silent.

The master chef, still looking self-satisfied¹⁰, couldn’t help but ask: “Director Zhang, how is it?”

“…Very bad.”

“Huh?”

This flavor couldn’t compare to the Miao Miao’s Mobile Food Bar at all! After tasting ambrosia, how could one be content tasting mortal food? Zhang Qiang hesitated for a moment, picked up a tofu puff, and placed it in her mouth. This tofu puff was actually made much better than Sun Miao’s, but eating it, it just wasn’t as delicious as Sun Miao’s.

The reason pointed directly to the most fundamental issue—the soup base.

Since they were both saturated with broth, the inherent textural layers of the tofu puff were already largely masked. What mattered most was the broth that burst out from the tofu puff the moment it was bitten into; the broth determined the final deliciousness of the tofu puff. Without a doubt, the master chef had lost.

Zhang Qiang sighed with emotion: “What you made might taste good, but it’s still lacking a lot.”

“? What exactly am I lacking?”

Zhang Qiang didn’t answer, just shook her head and sighed, then pushed the bowl in front of her away. She had tasted a bite of each ingredient, and only eaten one mouthful of vermicelli. After that, she had no desire to eat anymore. Her mind was completely filled with the Miao Miao’s Mobile Food Bar’s duck blood vermicelli soup, rendering the master chef’s bowl utterly devoid of presence.

The butler saw the guest out for Director Zhang, politely escorting the person out the door, then gave a generous payment. The master chef’s eyes were wide: “No, what exactly did I lack? Who was I lacking compared to? You could at least tell me, right?”

The butler didn’t know either and couldn’t answer. Meanwhile, Zhang Qiang lay back on the bed, tossing and turning, all because of that one bowl of duck blood vermicelli soup.

Damn it! Isn’t it just a bowl of duck blood vermicelli soup? What’s so great about it? So what if I don’t eat it?! I will absolutely never go eat at that Miao Miao’s Mobile Food Bar again!

At five o’clock, Sun Miao opened her eyes right on time. She yawned, feeling somewhat speechless. Last night, she kept having nightmares, dreaming that little effigies¹¹ were stabbing her with needles, preventing her from sleeping soundly. She got up, tidied her bedding, then went to the bathroom to wash up, finally applying a layer of baby cream.

Her hair was tied into a ponytail at the back of her head, then secured with a large clip¹². After finishing her preparations, Sun Miao began to make her meals for the day. She was thinking she wanted to bring a portion for Su Ruixi too. So she cooked with particular care. The ingredients had been bought yesterday; because the preparation for duck blood vermicelli soup was extensive and troublesome, Sun Miao now prepared everything the night before.

Fortunately, the System’s large refrigerator had exceptionally outstanding preservation and moisture-retention capabilities. Even after a night, everything looked as if it had just been prepared. Sun Miao took out the duck she had already butchered, along with some other ingredients, and returned to the kitchen to get started.

Su Ruixi didn’t like strongly flavored food, but she had far too much duck recently, so Su Ruixi would just have to suffer through eating duck meat with her.

However, considering Su Ruixi’s tastes, she prepared to make a dish—Chestnut Braised Duck¹³.

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