Chapter 23.2: Sausage and Sliced Pork Hand-Pulled Noodle Soup

Su Yi’an told He Ningwen to put the coins away and carried the noodles over herself.

Instead of hurrying back, she chatted with the old woman for a moment.

She learned that the elderly couple lived nearby, in the small courtyard nestled beside the big tree.

In their younger days, they had sold various foods, but now they only sold dried flatbread—easy to make and popular, so even at a low price, the volume of sales kept them going.

“Auntie, do you set up your stall every day?” Su Yi’an asked, glancing at her own stall and then at the old woman’s.

“Of course, it’s just a short walk,” the woman replied, blowing on her noodles before taking a sip of the broth while it was still hot.

“This broth has a nice flavor,” she remarked, picking up a slice of sausage and popping it into her mouth.

“Old man, try this meat,” she said, unabashedly passing the bowl to her husband after finishing her bite.

Seeing how much they enjoyed the noodles, Su Yi’an’s heart filled with joy.

She had initially worried that the small portion of meat might disappoint customers, but that clearly wasn’t the case.

Deliciousness was all that mattered.

Before long, more customers arrived at the stall. Su Yi’an hurried back to work, not stopping until He Yunhuai returned.

She sold a total of eight bowls of meat noodles. Except for the first customer who paid with two steamed buns worth two copper coins, everyone else paid directly with copper coins.

Fifty-four copper coins lay neatly in her purse.

She had already earned money before noon. By midday, she might sell even more.

After leaving the stall, He Yunhuai headed toward the river. When he first started working here, he had been awkward and clumsy at carrying the heavy cloth sacks, but the good pay had kept him going.

He eventually grew accustomed to the work, but unfortunately, disaster struck not long after.

That day, he had just received his wages and was supposed to return to the village with Brother Yang as usual.

But on the way, a group of men ambushed them. He initially thought they were just greedy robbers after their money. But when they singled him out, attacking only him and stealing only his money, he realized this was no random encounter—it had been planned all along.

He couldn’t fend them off alone. A blunt blow to the head sent him crashing to the ground. Through his dazed vision, he saw a sedan chair pull up before him. The curtains remained drawn, and the occupant didn’t emerge, but he clearly heard the conversation between the person inside and the “robbers.”

It couldn’t be…

“He Yunhuai.”

The voice came from behind him. He Yunhuai snapped out of his thoughts and whirled around.

Yang Family’s Eldest Son stood nearby, a cloth sack slung over his shoulder, his face beaming with undisguised delight.

The last time they had seen each other was when He Yunhuai had fallen while trying to walk after getting out of bed. It felt like a long time ago now.

The man set down his burlap sack and immediately grinned. “You look much stronger now! How come you’re back to work so soon without even telling me?”

He Yunhuai stepped forward and replied, “I’m probably not ready for work yet. My family found a way to make a living, and since there aren’t many food vendors here, we decided to set up a stall.”

The two found a clean spot and sat down.

Remembering that day, Brother Yang felt a deeper sense of guilt. He had been genuinely frightened that day. When those men had grabbed their clubs, he hadn’t dared to step in and help.

“The past is behind us,” He Yunhuai said, patting his shoulder. “Besides, Brother Yang, if you had helped me that day, neither of us might have made it back.”

“Those men seemed dangerous,” Brother Yang said. “When your mother asked about it later, I didn’t dare tell her the truth.”

He Yunhuai understood. If his mother learned that their old enemies were behind this, she would be restless again, insisting they move and hide in a new place.

But where could they possibly hide? Could they live in hiding forever?

For now, everyone at home believed the incident had been caused by an argument He Yunhuai had at work. Well, so be it.

“Did those people come looking for trouble afterward?” He Yunhuai asked, worried that his actions might have endangered those around him.

Brother Yang slapped his thigh and laughed. “Of course not! Look at me—I’m in good shape. I’ve been working here these past few days.”

Hearing this, He Yunhuai finally felt relieved. Those men must have realized their target was beyond saving and given up.

“You can set up your stall here without worry. If those thugs dare show their faces again, Brother Yang will protect you this time.”

He Yunhuai understood his meaning. “Then I thank you in advance, Brother Yang.”

They didn’t talk for long, as Brother Yang still had work to do. He Yunhuai didn’t want to keep him from his duties.

He waited until Brother Yang finished his shift before leading his group to their stall.

He Ningwen was washing the dishes. They hadn’t brought many, so they needed to be cleaned quickly after each use.

To ensure they were thoroughly clean, she washed each dish three times, using quite a bit of water.

As her second brother still hadn’t returned, she grew restless.

“Sister Su, should I go fetch another bucket of water?” He Ningwen asked, wiping her hands with a handkerchief.

There was more than one well in town, but the nearest one was several alleys away.

Su Yi’an couldn’t bear to let the child go alone. What if she ran into trouble? Besides, kidnappers were most active during the year-end holidays.

Su Yi’an was about to suggest that He Ningwen watch the pot while she fetched the water herself when He Yunhuai returned with someone.

“Second Brother, you’re back!” He Ningwen’s eyes lit up. “Hurry and fetch another bucket of water. I’ve run out!”

He Yunhuai took the wooden bucket. Brother Yang , seeing that He Yunhuai’s departure would leave him alone with the two young women, felt awkward.

“I know where the well is. I’ll take you there,” he said, grabbing He Yunhuai and pulling him away from the stall.

Once they were a good distance away, Brother Yang asked, “Why did you decide to sell noodle soup?”

“I thought it would be popular in winter,” He Yunhuai replied.

Many families in town sold noodle soup, and competition was fierce.

“That makes sense,” Brother Yang  agreed.

When He Yunhuai returned to the stall with the water, Su Yi’an had already cooked their noodles.

Brother Yang, seeing it was a meat-based dish, pulled out seven copper coins.

He Yunhuai hadn’t called him over to make money, but simply to offer a warm meal. Now that Brother Yang insisted on paying, he couldn’t refuse.

“Brother Yang, there’s no need to be so polite,” Su Yi’an said politely. “Just try the noodles and tell us if they taste good or if there’s anything we can improve. This is our first time running a stall, and we’re curious about what others think.” Her words made it awkward for anyone to insist on paying.

Seeing this, He reluctantly put his coins away.

“Then I’ll give it a try.” He took the bowl and chopsticks, carrying them toward the riverbank. As he walked, he called out to He Yunhuai.

“I never expected you two to be so close,” Brother Yang mumbled through a mouthful of noodles. “I thought it was like what the villagers said.”

He Yunhuai looked up at him. “What did the villagers say?”

“Naturally, they said you had no affection for each other.” This time, He was wise enough not to finish the sentence.

The villagers’ words had been far harsher, claiming the marriage was a desperate attempt to ward off misfortune. They said the He Family had forced the young woman into a living hell, condemning her to a life of widowhood…

Of course, He Yunhuai had woken up, so Su Yi’an wouldn’t have to remain a widow.

He Yunhuai: …

He forced a smile, thinking to himself, *The villagers were right. Su Yi’an feels nothing for me.*

Brother Yang walked into the crowd with his bowl. The laborers were resting here during their midday break.

Some ate dry flatbread, others ate meals they had brought from home. A few, like him, held bowls of hot food.

“Hey, what’s the occasion? You actually splurged on noodles?” Yu San, who worked alongside Yang Family’s Eldest Son and was a close friend, teased.

Brother Yang grinned and took a sip of hot broth right in front of him. “This weather’s freezing my bones! A bowl of hot soup chased half the chill away.”

That wasn’t wrong. Who wouldn’t want a bowl of hot soup on a winter day?

“Where’d you get it? And why’d you bring the bowl back?” Yu San asked.

Most vendors here sold flatbread, which was cheap even when fresh.

“From the flatbread stall over there—our own family’s stall,” Brother Yang replied, glancing at He Yunhuai.

The group of laborers who carried sacks by the river was fairly consistent, so many recognized He Yunhuai.

No one knew what had happened to him. They assumed he hadn’t wanted to return after receiving his last wages, so they paid him no mind.

Seeing him now, Yu San was simply surprised that He Yunhuai had set up a food stall.

“What made you decide to start selling food?” Yu San asked.

Before He Yunhuai could answer, Brother Yang interjected, “Ahem, my brother here took a tumble and hasn’t fully recovered. He can’t handle heavy labor like we do right now, so he’s selling some food to make ends meet.”

“If you want some hot soup, come on over. We’re all brothers here,” Brother Yang added.

Suddenly, someone in the crowd called out, “What’s the price? Any discounts for us brothers?”

Another voice chimed in, “Exactly! Since we’re all brothers, shouldn’t it be cheaper than the market?”

He Yunhuai shot them a cold glare. “Plain noodles are five wen, meat noodles are seven wen.”

“Same as the market prices? No discount at all?” The first speaker clicked his tongue in disappointment.

Earning money was hard enough. Who wouldn’t want a bargain? Even one wen could buy a dry mantou.

“What kind of ‘brother’ tries to freeload?”  Brother Yang glared at the complainer. “Want to eat? Buy it. Don’t want to eat? Move along. Those looking for handouts can scram.”

The hecklers fell silent immediately.

Others who were genuinely hungry stepped forward to inspect the portions. The bowls were generously filled with noodles and broth—a good deal.

“How much fatty meat is in the meat noodles?”

With the cold weather, people craved rich, oily food. If only the meat noodles contained large chunks of fatty pork.

“Like this,” Brother Yang said, picking up a piece of sausage with his chopsticks.

“What’s that?” someone asked.

Brother Yang coughed twice to hide his embarrassment. He hadn’t wanted to waste the meat, focusing instead on finishing his noodles. Now, asked what kind of meat it was, he didn’t know the answer.

He Yunhuai replied, “Sausage. Homemade cured meat made from pork.”

None of them had ever heard of sausage, but upon learning it was pork, their curiosity waned.

“I’ll buy a bowl to try,” someone in the crowd said, swallowing hard. “After working all day, I deserve a hot meal.”

Brother Yang pointed the way and quickly finished his noodles in a few bites.

“Hurry over there,” he urged, swallowing the last of his soup. He thrust his empty bowl and chopsticks into He Yunhuai’s free hand. “There are only two of them at the stall. Go keep an eye on it so we brothers can meet back in the village.”

He Yunhuai, hearing this, abandoned his own bowl of noodles and turned to head back.

Su Yi’an’s stall was doing increasingly brisk business. Perhaps the cold weather had driven more people to seek out hot soup noodles.

Though the meat noodles were pricier, the unfamiliar meat inside sparked curiosity. One person’s praise only deepened others’ interest in trying it.

Before long, the meat noodle stall became the most popular.

When He Yunhuai returned to the stall, Su Yi’an had already finished a plate of sausage—a plate that had held an entire link.

Su Yi’an was busy and didn’t even have time to greet him when he arrived.

They hadn’t brought much noodles that day; after serving this batch, they’d be out.

The man who had arrived just before He Yunhuai asked, “Any more meat noodles?”

“Just one last bowl left! You came at the perfect time,” Su Yi’an replied, scooping the noodles into a bowl and arranging the remaining slices of meat on top.

“Here you go,” she said, handing it over.

By late afternoon, Su Yi’an had packed up her stall.

She had sold all the noodles she brought—at least thirty bowls—and her pouch was heavy with copper coins.

Su Yi’an stored her stall equipment at the elderly couple’s house for two coins a day, a reasonable price to avoid the hassle.

“Business was good today, but who knows about tomorrow,” Su Yi’an mused. “We’re almost out of sausage, though. We’ll need to prepare more.” She planned to buy more pork from the butcher in town and make a larger batch of sausage this time.

Now that they had a reliable outlet, she wasn’t worried about making too much.

The three of them walked toward the butcher’s stall with empty baskets on their backs, completely unaware that someone was secretly watching them from nearby.