TTTQF Chapter 34

The Temptation of Fried Buns

Speaking of the handsome gentleman Li Shaoxuan, ever since he saved that frail young girl, he feels someone following him. He suspects it’s an enemy seeking revenge and thinks it best to resolve the matter quickly. With this in mind, he performs a swift somersault and lands in a tall tree by the roadside…

On stage, Old Meng speaks animatedly. “The Tale of the Children of the Jianghu” is the most popular book of the time. Even though it has been told two or three times already, the hall is still filled with many guests as it is retold. When the story reaches an exciting part, the guests cheer loudly or throw a few copper coins into the tray to express their excitement.

But today, many people sitting in the hall are distracted. Although their ears are listening, their minds have already wandered off with the strange aroma drifting in from who knows where.

Finally, someone can’t resist anymore. He waves over a waiter and asks, “Is this scent coming from your building?”

The waiter shakes his head and says, “Sir, this is not a scent from our building.”

“Strange, then where is this scent coming from? I’ve never smelled it before,” the guest says, sniffing again to confirm he hasn’t smelled it before.

“If you want to know, why don’t I go out and ask around?” The one asking is a regular guest who, every time he comes, sits for the entire afternoon. Naturally, the waiter has to be more attentive in serving him.

The guest is pleased and says, “Please do, and if you find out where it’s from, buy some for me.”

The waiter agrees and then leaves the teahouse, following the aroma to its source. It isn’t hard to find; it’s just diagonally across from their teahouse, and there’s already a crowd gathered around the stall from where the aroma is emanating, making it quite conspicuous.

“It’s you?” The waiter squeezes in and immediately recognizes Jiang Miao, a guest who had tea at their teahouse a few days ago. The reason he remembers so well is that it’s rare for someone dressed like that to come to the teahouse. Even if there were, they would usually appear reserved and not so open.

“Waiter, you have a good memory, you still remember me?” Jiang Miao smiles at him while swiftly flipping the buns in the pan with a spatula in his hand.

Perhaps the fire is a bit too strong, causing the oil on the golden-brown buns to sizzle and pop, making the aroma even more enticing and mouthwatering. Sensing that the timing is right, Jiang Miao adds some slurry into the pan, quickly covering it with a lid to let it cook.

The waiter swallows and says, “Of course, I remember you. I just didn’t expect you to be in business. How much are these buns? There are guests in the teahouse who want them, so let me go out and buy a few.”

“These buns are fried in top-quality rapeseed oil and sell for three wen each,” Jiang Miao says without blinking, claiming the oil he uses is the best rapeseed oil.

“Three wen each isn’t too expensive. I’ll take two for now so the guests can try them.” The waiter takes out six wen and hands them to Jiang Miao.

Jiang Miao immediately feels the gap between the rich and the poor. Just two streets away on Yifeng Street, meat-filled soup buns are two for five wen and still considered expensive, whereas here, the waiter doesn’t think three wen for a vegetable bun is expensive.

Actually, Jiang Miao misunderstands. The waiter doesn’t find the price expensive compared to the teahouse snacks. The cheapest mung bean cake Jiang Miao ordered that day costs twenty wen per plate, and there are only four pieces in it.

Jiang Miao takes the money and throws it into the drawer, then lifts the pot lid. The broth previously poured has already adhered to the bottom of the buns, turning into a crispy crust. When scraped with a spatula, it makes a crackling sound that makes one imagine how it would feel in their mouth. Jiang Miao first packs and delivers what the other customers have ordered, then scrapes out two more, puts them into an oil paper bag, and hands it to the waiter.

The waiter takes the buns and jogs back to the teahouse. The guest seems to be getting impatient, glancing outside from time to time.

“Sir, I brought back the fried buns. Smell them and see if it’s the right aroma.”

“It is! How much do they cost?” The guest takes the buns and sniffs them. The oil is still sizzling, making them look extremely tempting. Seeing that the waiter brought only two, he guesses they must be pricey.

“Three wen each,” the waiter replies, “fried in top-quality rapeseed oil,” he adds.

“So cheap?” The guest blows on the bun and takes a bite despite the heat. The exterior is crispy and flavorful, while the inside is juicy. Coupled with the unique taste of fried oil, it mixes together to form a wonderful taste.

“Get me two more! No, three!” he orders quickly after swallowing.

Others nearby had already noticed and said, “Waiter, get me two as well!”

“I want two too!”

Guests cannot be treated differently, so the waiter quickly nodded in agreement and secretly noted who was speaking. However, while he responded quickly, his feet seemed rooted to the spot, not moving at all. He only had ten coins on him, so how could he cover the cost for so many people?

The initial guest realizes this and immediately hands over fifteen wen: “Waiter, here’s fifteen wen. You keep it.” When the others see it, they also take out money and hand it over.

Only after receiving the money does the waiter hurriedly rush outside. After a while, he returns carrying a tray filled with fried buns from the stall below. The teahouse is soon filled with the enticing aroma, prompting even those who hadn’t wanted buns to hand over money for the waiter to buy some for them.

Having sold the last batch, Jiang Miao pulls out an oil paper package and hands it to the waiter: “You’ve been running around all day, find a place to try these later.”

The waiter, panting heavily, is taken aback but quickly thanks him. Running errands for customers is common in the teahouse, and he hadn’t expected such a reward, making him feel quite touched.

Meanwhile, with his goods sold out, Jiang Miao pushes his cart towards another street. This location is close to Xiao Shitou’s private school, allowing him to pick up Xiao Shitou after finishing his business.

…

“Why has business been slow these past few days?”

One day, while checking the accounts, the head manager of the teahouse notices something strange. Business has been fine, but the past few days show a decline, even though the number of guests hasn’t decreased. Could someone be pocketing money?

Frowning, the head manager carefully reviews the recent accounts, trying to find clues. After a long examination, he doesn’t find any embezzlement but does discover the reason for the downturn.

Indeed, the number of guests hasn’t decreased, and both fine and regular teas are selling well. However, the popular snacks that usually sell well haven’t been selling as much lately. With fewer snacks sold, the revenue naturally drops.

This can’t continue!

The head manager recalls the aroma that has filled the teahouse these past few days and deduces that it’s likely causing the drop in snack sales. He summons the steward and instructs him to tell the waiters that they are no longer allowed to buy those fried buns for customers.

So, that day, when a customer makes a request, the waiter shows a troubled expression: “Sir, I’m really sorry, but the steward has ordered that we can’t leave the teahouse during work hours anymore.”

Some customers, upon hearing this, simply frown and say nothing more. However, others immediately become angry.

“Call your steward over here. I want to know what this is all about. Are you saying that after spending money to sit here, we can’t even ask someone to run a simple errand? We’re not asking you to go from the south to the north of the city or from the east to the west, just to make a quick trip downstairs. Is that too much to ask?” It’s one thing if there was such a rule before, but now that it is and it’s strictly implemented, who wouldn’t be upset? Do they look down on him?

The steward hurries over and, upon hearing the complaint, says, “Sir, you’ve misunderstood. I never said they couldn’t leave the teahouse. This lazy boy must be making excuses to avoid work, pretending it’s a house rule!”

After speaking, he glares fiercely at the waiter. “You lazy boy, you do whatever the customer asks you to! Now hurry up!”

“Yes, sir,” the waiter responds and quickly runs downstairs.

“Brother Jiang, I need two fried buns.”

“Sure,” Jiang Miao picks up the spatula, scoops two buns into a bag, and asks curiously, “Brother Sun, are my fried buns not tasty today? Why don’t the teahouse customers want them anymore?”

They couldn’t be tired of them so soon! Jiang Miao thinks maybe he should set up shop near the theater instead. Though he could still sell here, without the teahouse’s major customers, business is much slower.

Brother Sun hesitates, then looks around and whispers, “Brother Jiang, you might want to sell elsewhere for a few days. Our steward said today that we’re not allowed to buy your fried buns for customers anymore.”

Targeted already? Jiang Miao is amused and frustrated. He has only been in business for a few days. “Are you specifically not allowed to buy for customers anymore? Can I bring them up myself?”

“I’m afraid not, unless the customers come down themselves. I heard it’s to avoid affecting the teahouse’s business.”

“That can’t be right. Your teahouse sells sweets, and I sell savory. Those who want sweets will still order them, right?” How could his business affect the teahouse’s business?

“Not everyone likes sweets. Your fried buns are delicious, and customers love them. Some have been eating them every day, even though their mouths have sores from eating too much,” Brother Sun says sympathetically.

Jiang Miao feels a bit guilty. Eating fried foods every day could indeed cause issues. Perhaps it’s because there aren’t many fried foods available in the market, so those who like them buy them every day once they find a source. However, drinking some herbal tea after eating might help cool the body.

After Brother Sun brings the fried buns upstairs, he makes several more trips, buying quite a few buns. However, the sales are still not as brisk as before.

Jiang Miao thinks for a moment, pushing his cart and calling out as he goes. Whenever someone buys, he stops to sell a few. By the time he reaches Xiao Shitou’s private school, he has sold out.

Xiao Shitou bids farewell to his teacher and runs out to help Jiang Miao push the cart.

“Brother, my classmates all say the fried buns you gave us were delicious!” Yesterday after school, Jiang Miao had given each of them one, and they all enjoyed them so much. Today, Xiao Shitou has come to tell Jiang Miao.

“Then I’ll bring them some more tomorrow.” The cost of a few buns isn’t high, and occasionally treating them twice is fine. Word of mouth is powerful, and it would make them remember Xiao Shitou more.

Xiao Shitou shakes his head. “You can only treat them once. Next time, they have to buy it themselves; they all have money! I asked them, and they said they still want to eat.”

Jiang Miao chuckles. “You’re quite sharp, kid. Alright, next time, they’ll buy it themselves.” Indeed, children generally prefer fried foods. Otherwise, Lao Ken and Lao Mai from later generations wouldn’t have been so popular.

Come to think of it, why hadn’t he thought of this earlier? Instead of selling near the teahouse, he could sell faster near those academies!

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

Table of Contents