Chapter 89: The Food‑Loving Crowd

"Hmm, then it's settled—once the house is finished, I'll pick an auspicious day and we'll move over together; then we won't invite anyone else, just my husband's family and Mayor Qian to come to the house for a lively gathering, okay?"

"Inviting my husband is fine, but why invite Mayor Qian?"

"He's been looking after us all this while; shouldn't we invite him?"

Lu San-niang pursed her lips, looking unwilling, which made Qiao Mai very curious.

"What exactly is your relationship with him?"

"There's not really any relationship; he was just a suitor of mine when I was young."

"It's not just that reason, right?"

"Anyway, don't ask me about my affairs with him."

"Fine, and when the time comes you shouldn't be reluctant; I've definitely invited the mayor."

Especially with so many unfamiliar ingredients—if we open a workshop, make everything, and sell them across the country, even to other nations, that would be a very profitable venture.

"Okay, tomorrow we'll look at those dishes; if they're suitable, I think we should pay twenty thousand taels of silver for exclusive rights—only she can eat them, not sell to others."

I have to admit, my old father's words were spot on; the friend my daughter, Nü'er, made is truly special.

"Yes, yes, just be relentless about it."

Because the variety sold at home is comprehensive, it has attracted wealthy households from several surrounding towns; whenever they think of what to eat, they first think of Qiao Niang.

"Twelve dishes cost twelve thousand; as for the hot‑pot beef and mutton, let's skip that—our cook still knows how to handle it, especially the thing called 'wide noodles' and 'cellophane noodles'; I think they're quite good."

"Got it."

The two old foxes of the Wang Family really admire Qiao Mai; they can lie low even more than those old guys.

"Remember, the Wang Family doesn't lack these few ten‑thousands of silver."

"Each dish should fetch a thousand taels; don't give less, this is Ru'er's friend."

"The matter of the prescription, my father told you, right?"

"Can we use these tomorrow to make a few dishes?"

To save trouble, let's just come over together.

"Listen, my dad is rich now; I eye the lunch spread, the dinner dishes, and tomorrow morning's—at least we should demand thirty thousand taels from her; if less, she'll be sent away."

The left‑neighbor Chen Shi hasn't come back, and Qiao Mai finally has some peace.

Qiao Mai just loves watching her look both jealous and helpless.

Chen Shi watches Qiao Mai earn so much silver each day, her eyes turn green, wishing those things were hers, those money too.

In the evening, when he saw a table piled with ingredients, Wang Zongsheng was completely moved.

So her business is great; Chen Shi often climbs a ladder to secretly watch her sell goods.

Father and son talked excitedly into the late night; over there, Wang Jiaru, at that age, slept on a fire kang for the first time.

"Sure, if you want to eat it, I'll make it."

Since there's no man at home, she sets up a table at the courtyard entrance during the day, blocking the gate, and places some goods there.

"By the way, his Minor Ingredient is the most crucial; the soul lies in that."

"Thank you, Uncle, for the compliment."

Qiao Mai let out a laugh, "How could there be a daughter like you who digs a hole for her own dad?"

"Do you want to report this to the Main Family?"

"As you wish; I tell you, hide all your good stuff, that person has sharp eyes and is very greedy."

At night, three of the Wang elders slept in a big pit; Miss Wang and her servant girl squeezed onto a kang with Qiao Mai.

"Then that's a favor."

Days like this pass quickly; before we know it it's the end of the month, and the day for Yuan Jiaqi and the children to return.

The weather gradually warms, and Qiao Mai keeps selling goods at home with Ling'er, rarely going out.

Wang Zongsheng, seeing her finish selling, asked, "These items of yours each have their own channels, right?"

"Also profitable, don't ask; just listen to me—if tomorrow we're short of thirty thousand, we won't sell, understand?"

"What about the cellophane noodles?"

"You see, inside this are all the prescriptions; once prepared, your business will improve a lot."

"The one called something 'blood' is also good, but not suitable for a workshop; just tell the back kitchen how to make it, buy fresh and cook on the spot."

"No rush; let's talk after we have hot pot tonight."

She, who feels shortchanged and uneasy, doesn't even want to bother with her.

"Yes, pork blood can also be used; the prepared blood can be hot‑potted, stir‑fried, or pan‑fried—very tasty. But for hot pot, duck blood is still the best."

Without saying a word, they introduced themselves, sat down, and started eating.

Knowing what they came for, yet they refuse to say, insisting on keeping it to themselves; anyway, it's the Wang family that's in a hurry.

She couldn't sleep, so she dragged Qiao Mai into a conversation.

"And yours?"

"The story can't be put that way; I also came based on estimates—if it's not worth that price, I wouldn't make a lion's big demand."

It would not only elevate the Wang family's restaurant, but eventually it would quietly become a renowned restaurant in every prefectural city.

"I'm speaking the truth; part of the money he earns is remitted to the capital's Main Family."

"Yes, yes, it must also be written down by her."

The table already had a sumptuous spread of meals, and accompanying them were Wang Zongsheng and his two children, Wang Jiaru and Wang Zihan.

Occasionally going out, it's just to visit Xiu Zhuang or to check out the New Residence.

"Mm, the food you made all tastes good."

Wang Zongsheng came specifically for the food; after the old gentleman returned home, he couldn't wait to tell about it.

Those Lamb Rolls and beef rolls are quite good; later we'll have our cook slice them the same way.

It's necessary; if we sell to others, how else can we do business?

Yes,

It looks like they can't go back today, because there's still a meal left to eat—the scalded pot.

I guess the last time Chen Hao came over to eat snail‑lion powder, she was so eager she wished she had wings to fly in.

What you hear is false, what you see is true; after seeing a table of meals that even the head of the Wang Family has never seen, he finally believed!

He ate, slowly savoring the dishes.

Wang Zongsheng couldn't help admiring Qiao Niang; he had already brought it up, yet she wasn't hurried—she was teasing his appetite.

How much silver do you think is appropriate?

After the meal and a while of tea, they remained in the courtyard watching Qiao Mai do some business.

He was so composed that he didn't ask, and Qiao Mai, even more composed, said nothing.

So, you need to seize the opportunity and take him down once; otherwise that money will all go to his Main Family.

The Wang Family's business also extends nationwide and includes restaurants; if they could acquire all the recipes on this table.

At noon, the group of food lovers stepped into the house on cue.

Definitely, even the Minor Ingredient recipe alone counts as a Grand Recipe; just this one, being short of ten thousand taels, can't be sold, let alone the others.

It was originally planned to come the next day, but an urgent matter caused a delay.

Old Mr. Wang here slipped into the quilt; his body was still warm underneath, apparently having slightly heated the kang.

Besides being used for scalded pot, it can also be served cold and used to make soup.

Fine!

But he treats you specially, is very kind to you; what does sister say?

Wang Jiaru's Servant Girl, is this duck blood really made from duck blood?

Qiao Mai had long since noticed her, but merely kept quiet.

Buyers can purchase what they want without entering the house, which cuts down on some petty chatter.

Shopkeeper Lu's face flushed red, and he stopped talking about it.

This item is ours; reporting it to the Main Family is useless. You just take care of it without involving the Main Family; they have their own dealings and don't need us.

Aren't you the Main Family?

As long as he doesn't bring it up, she pretends not to know.

We are a branch of the Jingcheng Wang Family.

Although this soup pot is best in winter, eating it in summer also has its own charm; even without meat, just the vegetables with Minor Ingredient make you eat more than stir‑fried dishes.

Understood.

Early the next morning, Qiao Mai handed Ling'er over to Miss Wang's master and servant, letting them watch, and she went to the kitchen.

In the kitchen she was pounding, using sweet potato flour she had simmered into half a pot of cold noodles, cutting them into squares twice the size of a finger, and stir‑frying a batch of cold noodles.

She also cooked wide noodles, soaked them in cold water, then made a cabbage vermicelli soup, prepared a cold vermicelli dish, and a cold large pulled noodle dish.

(End of chapter)