Starting from a Bankrupt Sichuan Cuisine Restaurant

The Huang Family siblings arrived even later today than yesterday. The factory workers had already started their shifts by the time they reached the restaurant’s entrance.

Zhou Yan was sitting at the entrance, cracking sunflower seeds and giving Comrade Zhou tips on adjusting his fishing float, when he saw Huang Bing and Huang Ying park their bikes. They dismounted, wincing, their faces masks of agony.

He stood up with a smile and looked at the limping pair. "What happened to you two?"

"Did you fall on the way here?" Zhao Tieying asked, her face full of concern.

Huang Ying, with a pained expression, said pitifully, "Auntie, we didn’t fall. We just rode back and forth three times yesterday, and my legs are killing me this morning..."

"They’re so sore and swollen, they don’t even feel like my own legs," Huang Bing added, a hint of bitterness in his smile.

The two of them had set out at six-thirty this morning. But as soon as they got on their bikes, the soreness was excruciating. A trip that had taken forty minutes yesterday took them over an hour today.

They’d woken up bright and early only to arrive late.

"Boss Zhou, are there any noodles left?" Huang Ying asked, looking at Zhou Yan with a mixture of hope and apprehension.

"You didn’t sell out, did you?" Huang Bing was also a little worried. After seeing how booming business was at Zhou Yan’s restaurant last night, the only thing motivating them to keep pedaling was the thought of a delicious bowl of noodles.

"Don’t worry, I knew you were coming, so I saved a bowl for each of you," Zhou Yan said with a smile. "What are you having today?"

"I want to try the Braised Pork Rib Noodles today," said Huang Bing.

"I want the Double-Pepper Minced Beef Tossed Noodles!" Huang Ying declared without hesitation. Watching Huang Bing eat it yesterday had driven her crazy with cravings.

"Alright, come on in and have a seat," Zhou Yan replied, turning and heading to the kitchen.

After finishing their noodles, the siblings went outside.

"Let’s go. Time to head home," Huang Bing said, his expression pained as he straddled his bicycle.

"You go home. I’m going to visit Grandma and I’ll head back after dinner," Huang Ying said with a smug smile. "I’ve already got my allowance, but you’re not so lucky. You have to go back and get the motorcycle to pick up the braised meat."

"You... if you don’t go back, won’t my allowance go down the drain?!" Huang Bing was a bit stunned.

Huang Ying laughed. "You idiot. You’re the designated delivery guy now, responsible for picking up the braised meat. That’s work for the restaurant, so what you’ll get is wages, not an allowance. Mom will even proactively fill up your motorcycle with gas."

"If Mom asks about me, just say my legs are too sore today and I really can’t make it back. Tell her I’ll do three trips again tomorrow when my legs feel better. I’m the one who bought her those pig trotters yesterday, so she’ll forgive me."

"Fine," Huang Bing nodded. Forget Huang Ying, his own legs hurt so much he didn’t want to move either. "Are you still coming back for lunch?"

"Of course! Let’s meet here at eleven-thirty sharp. I’ll bring Grandma with me so she can try the Kneeling Beef," Huang Ying replied.

"Got it." Huang Bing nodded, got on his bike, and left.

Huang Ying also frowned, gritted her teeth, and climbed onto her bike, wobbling off in the direction of the textile factory’s family residential compound.

"Those two siblings seem to get along pretty well," Zhao Tieying remarked with a smile.

"I suppose so..." Zhou Yan smiled. It was hard to say.

Around ten o’clock, Zhou Yan lifted the well-soaked braised meats out of the pot one by one and arranged them on a large bamboo tray. The meats, glistening with a reddish sheen, steamed invitingly, their fragrance filling the air.

Zhou Yan assembled two pig heads, selecting only the choicest cuts of meat, and placed them in a bamboo basket lined with gauze.

Two pig heads amounted to about eleven pounds of meat—a pretty decent portion.

VROOOM—

The sound of a motorcycle roared from the entrance.

"He’s here?" Zhou Yan peeked his head out. A green Jialing 70 was parked at the door. The rider was, of course, Huang Bing.

Two side frames had been installed on the back of the motorcycle overnight, both fitted with sheet metal boxes. They were sturdy and had a slightly mysterious feel, with a setup similar to the two woven baskets on Zhou Yan’s old roadster.

The Jialing 70 has a one-piece seat, so some effort must have gone into securing these two metal boxes. A single glance told you they wouldn’t be easy to remove.

As a result, the passenger experience on the back seat was drastically diminished.

The cool, flashy new motorcycle had been thoroughly relegated to a delivery vehicle.

Huang Bing parked the bike. The smug and dashing expression he’d worn when he first got his new motorcycle was gone, replaced with a certain awkwardness as he walked in.

In 1984, no one could own a Jialing 70 and feel insecure at the same time.

Unless he had two iron boxes hanging off the back.

"Making deliveries, Young Master Huang?" Zhou Yan couldn’t resist a snarky comment.

"Huh?" Huang Bing paused, not understanding.

"Nothing. The bike mod is great. Very practical," Zhou Yan said with a laugh.

"My old man had someone modify it for me. It’s hideous!" Huang Bing shook his head repeatedly. "Good thing they’re removable, even if it’s a hassle. Otherwise, I’d be too embarrassed to give a girl a ride."

"What’s not to like? You can seat one on each side. That’s two girls at once," Zhou Yan chuckled.

"Yan, you’re really something else." Huang Bing was dumbfounded. He entered the shop and asked in a low voice, "Is the... merchandise ready?"

"We’re selling braised meat, not running some kind of shady deal," Zhou Yan said, exasperated.

Huang Bing scratched his head. "My old man said to be careful with the transaction. Don’t let anyone see, to avoid trouble from nosy people."

"Then he shouldn’t have given you a Jialing 70 to pick up the goods. With those two containers attached, it’s hard *not* to attract attention," Zhou Yan said with a smile.

"Oh, right..." Huang Bing froze. On his way over, the number of heads he’d turned was off the charts. Even the dogs did a double take.

The row of street vendors outside were all craning their necks to get a look.

With a setup like this, it was hard not to be noticed.

"So what should I do?" Huang Bing was getting a headache.

Zhou Yan thought for a moment. "Next time, park the motorcycle somewhere discreet near your uncle’s place. Put a couple of woven baskets on your bicycle like I have on mine. And don’t wear the leather jacket, leather pants, and leather shoes. Get some simple, low-key clothes. Transport the braised meat back on the bicycle, then switch to the motorcycle. That way, you won’t attract so much attention."