Chapter 973: Spare Ribs with Rice Cake

Spare ribs with rice cake is a traditional Shanghai snack, made by frying and stewing thin, small rice cakes with rib meat, combining the rich aroma of the ribs with the soft, chewy, and crispy texture of the rice cake—extremely delicious. The ribs are golden-brown, crispy on the surface, and tender inside. The bite is fragrant and glutinous, slightly sweet and spicy, fresh and palatable.

Miss Wang loved to eat it; she often came to Xiangdelai on Yun Road, sitting by the window for a meal. Today, she came again.

“Oh my, Miss Wang, you’re here! Isn’t Bao Zong here with you today?”

“Everyone’s busy. I’m still the same, Boss.”

By now, Miss Wang had curled her hair, wore square-framed glasses, a wool coat, and carried a crossbody bag—she was ahead of fashion in this era. She had been coming here for years and was familiar with the boss; her manner was casual and natural, yet warm.

She noticed someone already seated by the window, a pile of spare ribs and a bottle of Maotai in front of him. The man wore a pullover sweater, military-green pants, and cloth shoes, his hair tied back. His attire clashed sharply with the bottle of Maotai.

Seeing him smile and nod at her, Miss Wang smiled back and sat down, leaving one seat between them.

Wang Yan asked with a smile: “Just now I heard the boss mention Bao Zong—do you mean the Bao from Caojia Du?”

Miss Wang, who had been wiping her eyes with a cloth, turned her head: “You know him?”

“Of course. I know Li the Stamp Man, Little Ningbo, Tao Tao, and others.”

“Why hasn’t he ever mentioned you?”

“I’m Wang Yan. I’ve only been in Shanghai for a month and a half—I live near Jinxian Road…”

“Oh~” Before Wang Yan could continue, Miss Wang’s face lit up with understanding. “Night Tokyo, right?”

“I’ve never seen you before. May I ask your name?”

“I’m Wang Mingzhu, in Department 27’s Clothing Section. I’m always busy, always wanted to go over, never had time. Let me tell you, Lingzi only met Bao Zong because of me. Two years ago, Bao Zong had an export order, but the production machinery broke down—he had to buy new ones from Japan.”

“I meant well but messed up—I shopped around for cheaper prices, but those damn Japanese refused to sell to us. Luckily, Bao Zong knew someone named Yamamoto—he rushed to Tokyo to make contact, and that’s how he met Lingzi.”

Miss Wang was lively, talkative, and self-centered. That was normal—everyone at Department 27 was either a wealthy client begging for favors or a factory director from a state-owned enterprise, wielding authority in their own domain, yet forced to smile and bow at Department 27. Over time, combined with her personality, being self-centered was perfectly natural.

“Oh, so Miss Wang works for the Foreign Trade Bureau? I’ll need your help in the future.”

“You’re in foreign trade too?” Miss Wang was puzzled. His clothes were shabby, his hair tied back, he ate piles of meat and drank Maotai—it was already contradictory. Now he claimed ties to foreign trade? She couldn’t understand.

Wang Yan shook his head with a smile: “No, but I could be. Recently, Bao Zong asked me what I planned to do next. I said it’s all about clothing, food, shelter, and transportation—I just haven’t decided yet. What if I opened a clothing factory and did foreign trade to earn U.S. dollars? What do you think?”

“Not good. The clothing factory market is fierce, and the investment is huge—it’s not something you can just start. I suggest you first go to Department 27, take a look, clear your head. Also, I work at Department 27 for the state—I don’t do favors just because you know me. Even if you know Bao Zong, it doesn’t matter. That’s principle.”

“Miss Wang, you’re refreshingly direct.”

“You live on Jinxian Road, right? Why are you here?”

“I’m…”

“Of course, Boss Wang came here to do business. Miss Wang, you don’t know yet—the hottest trend in Shanghai right now is barbecue and grilled meat, and it’s all thanks to Boss Wang. Miss Wang, you’re a regular—our new dish is salt-and-pepper spare ribs with rice cake, and the seasoning blend? Supplied by Boss Wang.”

Wang Yan smiled warmly at the boss—he understood human nature.

“So impressive?”

“Miss Wang, judging people by appearance—that’s not good.”

Miss Wang chuckled apologetically, then picked up a rib and took a bite, immediately giving Wang Yan a thumbs-up: “Delicious.”

“Did you taste it? Did your taste buds feel it? I’m not blaming you, Miss Wang.” Wang Yan chuckled. “Eat meat, drink alcohol—would you like some?”

“Just a little.”

Miss Wang pinched her thumb and forefinger, her frizzy hair and large square glasses giving her a sweet, innocent look.

Wang Yan ordered a cup, poured her a shot of liquor. Miss Wang now tasted the rib coated in barbecue seasoning, surprised: “The flavor really is good—is this your recipe?”

“Family secret. Not bad?”

“Very good.” Miss Wang raised her cup. “Here’s to you—I didn’t mean it. It’s just that people…”

“It’s just that today’s big bosses all wear suits, carry briefcases, and hold big brother phones.”

“Exactly. You make this so well—you must be making a fortune. Then why…”

“Making money still requires work. This is my secret recipe—I can’t trust anyone else with it. If it leaks, how will I make money?”

“Hey, Miss Wang, I can vouch for Boss Wang. His seasoning blend sells for ten yuan a pack—everyone says he makes millions a year.”

“That’s exaggerated. If I really made millions, I’d be thrilled.” Wang Yan raised his cup and clinked it with hers. “When I do, I’ll ask Bao Zong to introduce me to his tailor—I’ll be a proper big boss in a suit.”

Miss Wang smiled, took a sip with Wang Yan, then happily ate the spare ribs and rice cake.

“Do you like spare ribs with rice cake?”

Wang Yan smiled: “The texture is nice, and the boss’s skill is good. Eating it occasionally is quite pleasant. Funny thing, Miss Wang—today’s my first time eating it, and I met you here.”

Miss Wang nodded with a smile: “I love spare ribs with rice cake. I eat it three times a week.”

“You’re our most loyal customer,” the boss chimed in at the right moment.

Your family's craftsmanship is excellent.

Their conversation flowed well—mostly Miss Wang asking about Wang Yan’s family, how he came to Shanghai, and how he came up with the barbecue seasoning. The spare ribs and rice cake boss, sharp as ever, bragged about Wang Yan’s legendary battle on Huanghe Road.

The fight from earlier hadn’t faded. As long as people ate barbecue or grilled meat, they used Wang Yan’s seasoning—and inevitably remembered the incident.

It was nothing major—Wang Yan was just strong, took down over a dozen men alone. Jin Meilin’s boss lady paid ten thousand yuan and was the first to accept his seasoning as peace offering. But because Jin Meilin’s boss lady had long been established here with influence, and Du Honggen was a well-known thug, Wang Yan’s rise by stepping on them made him seem especially capable.

Add rumors and exaggerations, and an ordinary event became, today, the legendary tale of Wang Yan, the mighty dragon crossing the river.

The spare ribs and rice cake boss claiming Wang Yan made millions a year was proof of how wildly the story had grown. It was understandable—this was an era of upheaval, an era of exaggeration. Whether government or people, everyone was more unrestrained. That was the tide of the times, sweeping up grand waves.

“Goodbye, Boss Wang,” Miss Wang waved from the roadside, her smile lit by neon lights.

Wang Yan, smoking a cigarette on his tricycle, turned back: “Need a ride home?”

“No, no—I’ll just take a taxi.”

“Goodbye.”

“Goodbye, Boss Wang.”

Wang Yan didn’t look back, waved with his cigarette hand, and headed back toward Jinxian Road.

Miss Wang also caught a taxi. As the cab passed Wang Yan pedaling his tricycle, she glanced at his relaxed, contented pedaling, and shook her head with a smile…

Since using machines, production had skyrocketed—they no longer needed to start at eight in the morning and work until nine or ten at night. The small shop, now crowded with two machines and piles of raw materials and finished goods, had barely enough space to move.

When Wang Yan returned, only Jin Bao’s mother was left, watching the shop. Even at night, there was still business—some people still came to buy. She sat on a small stool under the light, reading a book to pass the time.

Hearing the noise, she looked up: “Back already, Boss Wang.”

“Where’s Little Fat?”

“Home doing homework.” She said, “Shortly after you left, Jin Meilin’s boss lady called, asking you to come for dinner tomorrow at six-thirty.”

Wang Yan nodded with a smile, pulled out a Huazi, lit one, and asked: “Do you think you’re reliable?”

Jin Bao’s mother didn’t understand this sudden question, but after a pause, she replied: “I haven’t stolen your money.”

Seeing her tense expression, Wang Yan laughed, pulled a sheet of paper from his pocket, and handed it to her: “Here’s a chance to get rich—this is the barbecue seasoning recipe. The ratios are clearly written.”

“I won’t make it anymore. You handle the blending. I think you’d be scared of too much—I’ll give you half a percent. That means, if you sell a hundred thousand a month, I’ll pay you five thousand. As for leaking the recipe—you know the cost better than I do.”

“When I have more money, you can do whatever you want—open a factory, make soy sauce, vinegar, MSG, anything. Then you’ll be general manager, and I’ll give you more shares.”

“Honestly, you can’t get rich just from this recipe alone. If you want to keep it secret, you have to mix it yourself every day like me. Now I’m giving it to you—but also adding a risk of leakage. If you ever want to step away later, you’ll have to tell someone else, adding another risk.”

“If someone smart finds out where we buy our ingredients, how much we buy, then bribes two other workers to measure leftover amounts, they can slowly reverse-engineer the recipe. Long-term secrecy is nearly impossible.”

“Now I’m giving it to you—see if you have the vision, courage, and fortune for it.”

“Boss Wang, this… this…”

“What’s this? You’re not even pretty—do you think I’m after your little fat kid? We just get along. You’re honest and hardworking—I’m giving you a chance to turn things around.”

“If you can’t rise, then you just don’t have the fate—just take good care of your little fat kid. Reading and studying is good—read more. Keep good accounts—we need to pay taxes. I’ll send an accountant later. The rest is up to you.”

Wang Yan waved his hand, didn’t say more, let her adjust, then turned to smile at Teacher Ge, who was slowly walking over.

“You ate outside?” Teacher Ge said. “You weren’t here—I didn’t dare drink the wine you stored at Night Tokyo.”

“So what? Drink it.”

“You said it yourself. Honestly, I drank two taels.”

Wang Yan chuckled: “Then why did you say you were embarrassed?”

“I knew you wouldn’t stop me—I was testing your conscience.” Teacher Ge changed the subject. “I heard Jin Meilin is inviting you to dinner tomorrow night?”

Seeing Wang Yan look over, Jin Bao’s mother said: “Teacher Ge was here helping collect money when the call came.”

“Let me tell you, Little Northeast, this is a Hongmen Banquet. I don’t need to guess—Du Honggen lost face and wants to get it back. You’ll be alone, they’ll have dozens—you can’t fight them all. I advise you not to go.”

“The more they gather people to fight me, the more face Du Honggen and Lu Meilin lose. If they really wanted to fight, they’d ambush me on the road—not invite me to dinner. Teacher Ge, use your brain—otherwise you might get dementia.”

“You’re the one with dementia.”

Wang Yan didn’t argue, asked: “Are you going? Jin Meilin is one of Huanghe Road’s big restaurants—only Jin Fenghuang and Hong Lu do better. The food and wine should be good.”

“They invited you—why should I go? You’re young and fast—if things turn ugly and they fight, you’ll run, but I’ll get beaten to death. My coffin money hasn’t even been spent—I’d be scolded by my late wife in the afterlife.”

Wang Yan chuckled, didn’t press further, told Jin Bao’s mother to close early and go home, then walked back with Teacher Ge…

Du Honggen was a thug, but a smart one. He didn’t, as Wang Yan said, send someone to ambush him. After all, dealing with Wang Yan meant either killing him or crippling him. But Wang Yan’s combat ability was obvious—he took down over a dozen men easily, still with energy left. How many men would Du Honggen need to kill Wang Yan?

Today’s public security may not compare to decades later, but the iron fist of the people’s democratic dictatorship was the same. This was an era of economic development—petty thieves stealing here and there were hard to control in a big city, but organized gangs were not tolerated, especially not in Shanghai.

Any retaliation had to be secret—fewer, more elite participants were better. If dozens gathered and walked down the street, the police would send them to sew machines. Too few, and they couldn’t beat Wang Yan. Run him over with a car? Might not work. It was awkward.

But because the incident had spread and grown, Du Honggen and Lu Meilin were now struggling to maintain face—that’s why they invited Wang Yan to dinner.

They wanted to prove they were reasonable people, ready to bury the hatchet. Though they’d lost face, they’d preserve some dignity. Time would turn it into a joke—not a real laughingstock about Du Honggen and Lu Meilin, which would be truly humiliating…

“Long time no see, Brother Wang,” Jing Xiu leaned out the window, waving happily.

Wang Yan pedaled his tricycle over: “Business good lately?”

“Same as always—mediocre. But you, Brother Wang, still delivering goods yourself? That’s not good now—everyone says you’re making millions selling seasoning.”

“Millions? That’s rumor. Dozens of millions, maybe.”

“Still a millionaire. Why pedal a tricycle? You should be like the big bosses—suit and tie, briefcase under arm, big brother phone in hand, buy a car—that’s a real big boss, Brother Wang.”

“I’m still poor. Still a long way from being a big boss.”

Jing Xiu laughed—he liked Wang Yan’s naturalness. Honestly, there were surely richer men on Huanghe Road, but most were worse off, yet many acted haughty, eyes always looking up.

He asked: “Brother Wang, you came today to deliver goods, but really you’re here for the dinner at Jin Meilin, right?”

“Did you hear about it?”

“I’ve known for a long time—yesterday, one of Jin Meilin’s waiters spilled it. But since we didn’t hear your reply, lots of people were waiting to see them humiliated. No one expected Brother Wang would actually show up.”

“Do you think I should have come?”

Jing Xiu thought for a moment, then smiled: “You should come! Better to avoid trouble than stir it up—harmony brings wealth. There’s no deep grudge here. Give them face, and people will say Brother Wang has a broad mind. It’ll make future business easier.”

“I thought simply: they paid me ten thousand yuan as settlement—that’s settlement. Now they’re inviting me to a free meal, and I’ve got goods to deliver anyway. So I might as well eat my fill.”

“Oh my, Brother Wang, you really came!”

Wang Yan turned to Tao Tao, who had sidled up: “Tao Tao, what are you doing here?”

“Hong Lu sold out of seafood this morning, so I brought more. I heard Du Honggen and Lu Meilin are treating you to dinner. Listen—I shouldn’t have to tell you, you can’t go. If you go, they’ll trample your face!”

“What face do I have?”

“Oh come on—you’re a boss worth hundreds of thousands! You’ve got face. Besides, they started it. They never expected to run into someone like you. If anyone else showed up, they’d have crushed them—lost their recipe, maybe even their life, and taken a beating for sure.”

“You speak beautifully—I’m impressed, Tao Boss.”

Tao Tao chuckled. He loved when Wang Yan called him “Tao Boss.” No one else could—he wasn’t as rich as Wang Yan. “So—are you still going?”

“I’m already here. How could I not go? You mentioned Jin Meilin—did you not deliver seafood to them?”

“They got it from someone else—someone related to them.”

Wang Yan nodded, then asked: “Have you eaten dinner?”

Of course not. I was just heading to Yedongjing when I saw you here—I came over to persuade you.

“Then let’s go. You come with me to deliver the goods—and then we’ll eat our fill at Jin Meilin. Maybe after this meal, Jin Meilin will start ordering seafood from you.”

“Huh? Uh… Brother Wang, maybe I shouldn’t come. They invited you, not me. That wouldn’t be right.”

“Scared?”

“Nonsense—I’m the bravest guy around!”

“But you just said you’re the most righteous guy around.” Wang Yan grinned at him.

“Fine, fine—I’ll go. Let’s deliver the goods.” Tao Tao turned to leave the Huanghe Road, but after a few steps, he stopped, turned back, and walked toward Wang Yan, who was still smiling. “Oh no—I’m so hungry I’ve lost my head. This way, right?”

“Let’s go, Jing Xiu.”

“Take care, Brother Wang,” Jing Xiu waved as Wang Yan pedaled his tricycle toward Hong Lu, Tao Tao trailing beside him, chattering away…

Tao Tao had been trying to talk Wang Yan out of going—so he wouldn’t have to show loyalty. But his return was because he realized: if Wang Yan later mentioned this, Tao Tao would never live it down—he’d be laughed out of town.

Too bad—despite his eloquence, Wang Yan didn’t change his mind…

“Brother Wang, welcome to Jin Meilin! Let me introduce you—this is Du Honggen. And this is Brother Wang.”

Lu Meilin and Du Honggen came out the door to greet him, lowering themselves to give full face. Of course, they had no face to begin with—this was just to show others they were at peace.

It was Wang Yan who was giving them face—he grinned and shook Du Honggen’s hand, exchanging pleasantries.

Du Honggen wore the same suit, tie, and slicked-back hair—sharp and alert. Now he was already the version later seen: one leg crippled, leaning on a cane. Oddly, the crippled Du Honggen felt more dangerous than the whole one. After all, he was a thug—and a limp added a touch of story.

Tao Tao, probably fueled by wild rumors and his own impressions, had mentally built up Du Honggen as some fearsome hoodlum. Now, his earlier righteous indignation vanished. When he shook Du Honggen’s hand, he bowed and scraped—couldn’t even look.

“Gentlemen, bringing Tao Tao along—is that alright?”

“Of course! Tao Tao—we know him well. Welcome, welcome! Let’s go inside. Someone, watch Brother Wang’s tricycle.” Lu Meilin’s fat face bloomed into a smile, and she reminded her staff to guard Wang Yan’s vehicle.

They walked in, took seats in a private room upstairs. Lu Meilin shouted for the waiters to bring dishes, poured tea for Wang Yan and Tao Tao herself, while Du Honggen offered them Huazǐ cigarettes.

“Thank you, Brother Wang, for gracing us with your presence,” Du Honggen said, smoking.

“Don’t mention it. I took the settlement money—that meant it was settled. You invited me to dinner—I’m not going to refuse free food. Don’t laugh, but I’ve been in Shanghai nearly two months, and I’ve only eaten at small eateries or cooked at home. This is my first time at Jin Meilin, a restaurant famous all over Shanghai.”

“Eat whatever you want,” Lu Meilin smiled. “I say, Brother Wang, you’re too modest. Who in Shanghai doesn’t know you’ve made big money? Yet you still pedal your tricycle to deliver goods yourself—most people wouldn’t do that.”

Wang Yan waved his hand, didn’t elaborate. He turned to Du Honggen: “I’m curious—how did your leg break? Mind telling me?”

“Young and foolish—happens.”

The reply didn’t explain the limp—it mocked Wang Yan. He laughed, glanced at Lu Meilin, then grinned: “What business are you in now?”

“Nothing big—just opened a karaoke bar.”

“I’ve heard of them—lots in Beijing. Should be plenty here too. Seems they came from Japan. Must’ve cost a fortune.”

“The equipment’s expensive.” Du Honggen gave a vague reply, then turned serious. “Brother Wang, we invited you today to express our regrets.”

“Like I said before,” Wang Yan drew on his Huazǐ, smiling. “I took the settlement. That’s settled. You inviting me to dinner? Just showing the world we’re not enemies—got along fine. I get it.”

“Brother Wang, you’re straightforward. Let me apologize—”

“No need. Before I came, I heard what Tao Tao told me.”

With Tao Tao’s face turning ashen, Wang Yan grinned: “He said you started the trouble, never expected to meet someone like me. If anyone else came, you’d have crushed them—lost their recipe, maybe their life, beaten to a pulp. Might’ve ended up just like you—crippled, a cripple. That last bit—I said it. Not Tao Tao.”

“Brother Wang, I mean you no harm,” Du Honggen said, eyes narrowing, face twitching slightly—trying to look intimidating. The twitch wasn’t controlled—it was from Wang Yan’s “crippled cripple” remark.

“I mean you no harm either. I’m just honest—I speak plainly. You tried to steal my recipe, failed, and lost face. You did it, but now you’re afraid of gossip, so you invite me to dinner hoping to use my face to regain yours. Does that make sense?”

“Honestly, I didn’t want to say this—ruin the peaceful atmosphere. We could’ve just eaten, drank, and moved on. But you insisted on clarity. Since we’re laying it all out, the words will be harsh. I admire Madame Lu’s approach—you paid quickly. Men want face—that’s normal. But when you’re out in the world, don’t cling too hard to it. What do you say, Brother Du?”

Tao Tao stared wide-eyed, heart pounding—he felt it was over…

Seeing Du Honggen grit his teeth, Lu Meilin quickly spoke up: “Brother Wang, this is all my fault.” This wasn’t normal business rivalry—if it escalated, it’d be impossible to contain.

“I wanted your barbecue spice recipe. I didn’t recognize a true master—misunderstanding happened. Today, I invited you to clear it up. It’s not what you think—we’re not trampling your face or seeking our own. Brother Wang, don’t overthink it. Let’s drink some wine, and everything’s forgotten. Harmony brings wealth—harmony brings wealth.”

“I think when you’re out in the world, you only have one face—and one life. What do you say?”

Under Tao Tao’s terrified gaze, Du Honggen slowly pulled out a black pistol and aimed it at Wang Yan, smiling.

Gun control had been rolled out in stages; full prohibition came in ’96. Still, civilian gun ownership was massive. Even decades later, tens of thousands of guns and dozens of tons of explosives were seized annually. For a thug like Du Honggen, in an era of lax gun control, having a pistol wasn’t surprising.

Wang Yan smiled. “Safety’s not on.”

Du Honggen froze. He reached for the safety—Wang Yan hurled his teacup. It struck the gun, knocking it onto the rotating tray. Before Du Honggen could cry out in pain, he scrambled up to grab it—but the tray spun, and the gun slid right to Wang Yan’s hand.

Under Du Honggen’s stunned stare, Tao Tao’s fearful yet oddly relieved gaze, Lu Meilin’s wide eyes as she suppressed the urge to snatch the gun—Wang Yan flicked his cigarette butt onto Du Honggen’s forehead, then calmly picked up the pistol.

The private room fell utterly silent—only the sound of Wang Yan handling the gun. He ejected the magazine—full of bright yellow bullets—checked the chamber—empty—then chambered a round, aimed at the frozen Du Honggen, and pulled the trigger.

“Click.”

The sharp report echoed clearly in the quiet room. Du Honggen flinched instinctively.

“No guts, no breadth, bully the weak, tough-guy act? Really?”

Lu Meilin snapped back to reality, trembling: “Brother Wang, it’s all a misunderstanding!”

“Yeah, yeah, Brother Wang, don’t act rashly!” Tao Tao also reacted, voice shaking.

“When he pointed the gun at me, you didn’t call it a misunderstanding. Now that it’s in my hand, it’s a misunderstanding?”

Du Honggen had regained his composure. “What do you want?”

“You’re acting like a man now,” Wang Yan grinned. “Choose: money—or your leg.”

“How so?” Du Honggen inhaled deeply, voice low.

“If you want money, I’ll break your broken leg again—and give your good leg a matching break. Lucky, you’ll walk with two canes. Unlucky? You’ll be in a wheelchair.”

Lu Meilin interrupted: “Brother Wang, name your price.”

“Before I came, Jing Xiu told me the big boss carries a briefcase, holds a mobile phone, wears a suit, drives a sedan. Madame Lu, you said I’m a boss now—but I’m missing things.”

Du Honggen nodded: “No problem. Brand-new Santana—legit source, full paperwork. I’ll deliver it to you, with the mobile phone.”

“You’re much more reasonable now. Also, get me a driver’s license.” Wang Yan nodded, satisfied, turned to Lu Meilin: “From now on, Tao Boss delivers your seafood.”

“Agreed,” Lu Meilin answered without hesitation.

Wang Yan smiled, snapped the magazine back in, and tossed it to Du Honggen.

He fumbled to catch it, hands trembling—relief after near-death. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll…?”

“Then I’ll break all five limbs. You’ll rot in bed.” Wang Yan glanced at him, stood up. “Madame Lu, let’s move to another room. We came to eat—we’ll eat. Tao Boss keeps his mouth shut. After this meal, we’re all friends again. No one will laugh at you anymore. Everyone wins.”

“That’s right—I’m the tightest-lipped guy around!”

Lu Meilin caught the stench of urine, glanced at Tao Tao, then beamed at Wang Yan, ready to lead them to the next private room.

“Brother Wang, help me up—my legs are weak.” Tao Tao forced a smile.

“No need for Brother Wang—I’ll help.”

It was Du Honggen, limping over, supporting Tao Tao.

Tao Tao’s smile grew even more strained…