Chapter 46: An He Snack Shop Opens!

Su Yian felt a sudden weight on her leg. Looking down, she saw He Xingchen leaning against her, already dozing off.

“Why didn’t you say you were this tired?” Su Yian gently straightened him up. He rubbed his sleepy eyes, completely drained of energy.

Though only seven years old, He Xingchen had grown plump and heavy under her recent care. Su Yian struggled to lift him.

Fortunately, He Yunhuai stepped over and picked He Xingchen up in his arms.

“Let’s go home,” Su Yian said, glancing at He Ningwen. While they still had a bit of energy left, they hurried back.

A night wind rose, causing Su Yian’s lantern to sway. The candle flickered and died, extinguishing the small warmth it had offered.

Back home, He Xingchen was sound asleep. He Yunhuai undressed him, wiped him down with warm water, and tucked him into bed.

Looking at the peacefully sleeping child, He Yunhuai pinched his chubby cheek and sighed helplessly.

Truly a master at ruining the mood, he thought.

The next day, the An He Snack Shop officially opened for business.

There were no firecrackers, no red banners—just an ordinary morning when the modest shop opened its doors.

Su Yian posted the menu outside, complete with words and illustrations. Passersby stopped to glance.

Seeing only two dishes listed, a curious customer wandered in before noon.

The unassuming shop contained six slightly worn wooden tables.

Each table held a bamboo cylinder filled with chopsticks.

Compared to other eateries, it had no special charm.

But once someone walked in, there wasn’t a strong reason to leave.

“Young lady, you only serve these two dishes?” the man asked as he settled into a well-lit seat, pointing at the menu.

He Ningwen approached with a teapot and poured him a cup of tea.

The teapot had been bought the day before. They hadn’t yet gotten teacups, so they used bamboo cylinders instead—each one carefully sanded by He Songyuan until smooth and splinter-free.

“You look unfamiliar,” He Ningwen said, now quite at ease with customers. “I guess you haven’t tried our noodle soup before. That’s our specialty—both vegetarian and meat-based. The signature dishes are sausage meat noodles and roasted pork noodles. As for side dishes, we offer two specials that change every few days.”

The An He Snack Shop served only a few types of soup noodles—popular varieties common at the market. The side dishes were also familiar staples.

“What about the prices?” the man asked.

He Ningwen paused, realizing she’d forgotten to ask. She gave an embarrassed smile and rushed off to consult Su Yian.

After all, now that they had a storefront, they couldn’t charge the same prices as when they were street vendors—how else would they pay the annual rent?

“One wen more than the market,” Su Yian replied, dabbing He Ningwen’s forehead with a handkerchief. “But we have our first customer!”

He Ningwen nodded eagerly and held up a finger.

“Since he’s our first, tell him if he orders from the yellow menu, he’ll get a complimentary new item,” Su Yian added, glancing at the bubbling pot. She quickly added a spoonful of cold water to keep it from boiling over.

Inside the pot, ordinary sausage was simmering—ready to be pan-fried once cooked. Su Yian sighed. If only they had a proper griddle—it would make frying so much easier. She resolved to visit the blacksmith after closing today.

Armed with the prices, He Ningwen hurried back to the customer.

Seeing his empty teacup, she refilled it right away.

“Our meat and vegetarian noodles are one copper coin more than those at the market,” she explained. “But since you’re our first customer today, you’ll get a complimentary dish if you order something from the yellow menu.”

The price wasn’t steep—in fact, it was cheaper than the customer expected.

“A free dish?” he asked, interest piqued.

He looked over the yellow menu and chose Dongpo Tofu. He also ordered a bowl of meat noodles with sausage.

Not because he thought tofu was cheaper, but because greasy food too early in the day felt heavy.

He Ningwen took the order and relayed it to Su Yian.

The shop had stoves both in front and in the back courtyard, making things convenient.

He Yunhuai manned the front stove. It was a simple job—he’d already mastered the timing for cooking noodles. The sausages were pre-prepared; all he had to do was ladle the noodles into a bowl and top them with sausage.

Meanwhile, Su Yian was at the back stove. She cut the morning’s tofu into neat blocks, marinated them with flour and salt, then dropped them into hot oil.

She used pork lard for frying, which added a savory aroma. Paired with diced sausage and winter bamboo shoots, the dish needed only a brief simmer to finish.

The customer didn’t wait long before his meat noodles were served.

“Please try it,” He Ningwen said, then returned to the back courtyard.

Maybe because it was their first day open, she was filled with nervous anticipation, hoping every customer would enjoy the food.

She arrived just as Su Yian was plating the Dongpo Tofu. “Let him try these two dishes first,” Su Yian said. “Then bring out the fried sausage.”

The fried sausage had high profit margins. Though Su Yian had sold the recipe once, she still hoped to make more from it.

She’d told the other vendors that while the method was the same, the seasoning was unique to each shop—and seasoning, of course, couldn’t be patented.

Because of that, no one bought her recipe. So she tweaked the flavor again herself.

After finishing both dishes, the man commented, “This shop is pretty generous.”

“Your complimentary dish is on the way,” He Ningwen said. Seeing his plates were empty, she brought over the fried sausage.

“You serve this too?” The customer’s eyes lit up. He’d just eaten this sausage at Manager Zhou’s place yesterday. It was delicious—different from regular sausage. Still oily and savory, but with a crisp skin and satisfying chew.

He put down his bamboo chopsticks and picked up the skewered sausage.

With one bite, his mouth was filled with rich aroma—but the taste was completely different from yesterday’s.

He chewed slowly. A tingling numbness spread across his tongue. Sichuan peppercorns, he realized.

“Is this for sale?” he asked after eating half.

He Ningwen blinked. “You know it’s fried sausage? You must’ve tried it before.”

“I had it yesterday at another shop—but it didn’t taste like this,” he said, smiling at her warm attitude.

She returned with a plate holding two more skewered sausages, still hot.

“How much?” the man asked.

“Ten copper coins per link,” Su Yian replied. Not expensive—these were all meat, fried in pork lard.

“Wrap them up,” he said, pulling out his coin pouch. After some digging, he scraped together forty-nine copper coins—barely enough.

Su Yian wrapped the sausages in oiled paper and handed them over. As the man turned to leave, she asked, “How did you like the dishes?”

“Excellent, all of them,” he replied.

It was a solid first sale. Su Yian placed the coins carefully into her ceramic jar.

No other customers came for a while, but by noon, more began to trickle in.

Most ordered meat noodles and a side of Dongpo Tofu.

Four people could share a table, four bowls of noodles, and one tofu dish. Around ten coins per person—it wasn’t expensive, and they had a comfortable place to sit.

“Shopkeeper, why do you look familiar?” A scholar lingered at the counter while paying, giving Su Yian a long look.

His gaze wasn’t lecherous, but it was intense.

Su Yian looked calmly at him, then at his table. She tapped her abacus. “You must be a student from the nearby academy. You carry yourself like one.”

The scholar flushed at the unexpected compliment and cleared his throat.

“We used to set up a stall nearby,” she added. “Maybe you saw us there.” She tallied the bill. “Four bowls of meat noodles and one tofu dish—fifty-six coins. Since we’ve crossed paths before, let’s call it fifty-five.”

The scholar smiled wryly and placed the coins down. “Fate indeed.”

After they left, Su Yian took a rag and scrubbed every spot they had touched.

Business wasn’t booming, but it was steady.

Customers came in waves throughout the day. As the sun set and nearby shops closed, they waited a bit longer before shutting their doors.

He Xingchen had spent the day at private school, surrounded by kids his age. The lively environment helped him quickly make friends.

“Time for the happiest moment of the day!” Su Yian declared, placing the ceramic jar on the table and flipping it over, spilling out all the coins.

The four of them counted together, stringing every hundred coins onto a cord.

They’d made five hundred and twenty-eight copper coins on their first day.

“So many!” He Ningwen gasped. She hadn’t felt particularly busy, and the tables had never all been full—yet they’d earned this much.

Su Yian transferred the coins to a ceramic jar in the back courtyard—their savings jar.

“We’ll count earnings monthly, not daily,” she said, tapping He Ningwen’s forehead. “Five hundred sounds like a lot, but we’ve still got to buy rice, flour—even firewood.”

“Ah!” He Ningwen exclaimed, snapping out of her daze.

“It’s only the first day,” He Yunhuai said with confidence. “Once people taste our food, word will spread fast.”

And just as he said, over the next few days, customers steadily increased.

But most weren’t coming just for the noodles—they came for the rotating dishes Su Yian served.

Prices were fair, the food was delicious, and early birds or big spenders even got a free grilled sausage.

The temptation was too much to resist. Soon, customers were flocking to the shop.

After five days of non-stop work, Su Yian finally visited the blacksmith and commissioned a round iron griddle.

The blacksmith didn’t ask what it was for—just took her money and began the forge work.

Everyone dreamed of using the new griddle to fry sausages and earn even more.

But early one morning, before dawn, two elderly people with large bundles on their backs arrived. Without a word, they sat on the shop’s steps, blocking the entrance—and began to wail loudly.