Chapter 15, First Update

Lin Xuexia first went to the pork stall. This stall didn’t require ration coupons, unlike the state-run pork stalls where prices were a bit lower but purchases were limited to only a few pounds per month for those with urban household registration. In a few more years, ration coupons for oil and meat would disappear completely, becoming little more than collectibles.

She bought five pounds of pork shoulder, three pounds of pork belly, and two pounds of lean pork. Pure lean pork was cheaper, while belly and shoulder cuts were a bit pricier. Altogether, she spent nineteen yuan and also picked up some pork offal.

After finishing at the pork stall, she noticed a child by the roadside selling flower clams. They were quite large and carefully selected, priced at two cents per pound. She bought ten pounds, spending twenty cents.

Being near the sea, flower clams themselves weren’t particularly valuable. A person could easily gather several hundred pounds in a day; even children could pick up dozens of pounds to sell. However, they usually collected more valuable seafood. Fish and other seafood had a strong fishy smell and little fat, especially shellfish, which had barely enough meat to fill the gaps between teeth. Boiling them plain was unappetizing, while frying was too greasy.

Lin Xuexia’s flower clam vermicelli soup sold for twenty-five yuan, about the price of more than a pound of pork belly, roughly the cost of a meat dish like braised pork at an ordinary restaurant. The price wasn’t due to the ingredients, but rather the laborious cooking process—it was essentially a meat dish that sold on the skill of preparation.

She used premium Longkou vermicelli, cooked to just the right texture. Cooking clam vermicelli wasn’t particularly difficult, but the sauce, soup base, freshness of the clams, and texture of the vermicelli were crucial. Among these, the vermicelli’s texture was the most important.

Some people cooked vermicelli that tasted like chewing wax—truly disgusting.

Cooking often relied on talent, a feel for the craft, and experience. Two people following the same recipe could produce dishes that tasted worlds apart.

“Is the leftover beef one yuan forty per pound?” Over the past decade or two, chicken had been the most expensive meat, followed by pork, then beef and mutton. Later, beef and mutton prices rose, pork was mid-range, and chicken became cheaper thanks to the introduction of white-feathered chickens. Frozen white-feather chicken meat was inexpensive, while native chickens were pricier.

Beef was tough and dry, lacking fat, and most people avoided it when their stomachs craved richer meat. Pork belly was the “dream meat” for the common folk.

“Hmm, how much do you want? I’ll cut it for you.” The butcher wasn’t too invested in beef either, as he didn’t like it much himself—tough, dry, and painful to chew.

“Make it cheaper, then. Give me ten pounds.” Lin Xuexia bought ten pounds of beef, planning to make braised beef.

She also bought a pound of beef tripe at sixty cents per pound, spending fourteen yuan in total. The shopkeeper said the pound of tripe was a gift.

Having finished buying pork and beef, Lin Xuexia prepared to buy chicken. She needed to choose carefully, wanting free-range yellow-feathered chickens, not the fast-grown white-feathered ones raised in just forty days.

In Pengcheng, white-feathered chickens were inexpensive because the city had the largest feed mill in the country—240,000 tons annually—and chicken farms producing over ten million white-feathered chickens a year.

Compared to white-feathered chickens, farm-raised native chickens sold for twenty to thirty yuan per pound, depending on appearance.

Compared to her hometown, meat prices here, as well as clothing, watches, leather belts, and shoes, were much cheaper. This was why many people were reluctant to leave.

In her hometown, a nice dress might cost fifteen to twenty yuan, and a pair of leather shoes thirty. Here, one could buy a lovely dress for just a few yuan, and a pair of slightly flawed shoes even cheaper. If she had time to visit the night market, factory seconds and flawed goods were unimaginably cheap, with endless variety.

Lin Xuexia’s previous red dress had been bought at a night market stall—affordable yet stunning on her. Night market clothes were cheap but couldn’t be tried on; she had to bite the bullet and buy first, realizing it fit beautifully only after.

Gao Chunyan complained about high rents, high housing prices, and expensive services here, often saying she wanted to return to her hometown. But having stayed so long, she would surely struggle to readjust.

Many women loved treasure hunting at night markets. Compared to rural towns, here they could dress beautifully at lower cost—who wouldn’t want pretty clothes? Several pairs of shoes to rotate, a few handbags to switch out.

Lin Xuexia bought a large rooster from a traveling farmer carrying a shoulder pole. After bargaining, she paid eight yuan.

The rooster crowed at dawn, full of yang energy. According to tradition, rooster’s blood wards off evil. Having just moved, she planned to sprinkle some on her door and furniture as a ritual.

She tossed the tied-up rooster into the cart and then bought three pounds of cooking oil for three yuan sixty, six bottles of beer for twenty-two yuan, a two-yuan iron wok, other vegetables, bowls, chopsticks, and some braising spices the household lacked.

In total, she spent over fifty yuan and sighed, “Money really burns a hole in the pocket.”

But she wasn’t worried; most of the purchases were meat for making char siu and braised beef for sale, not daily expenses.

Lin Xuexia rode her bike to transport everything home. She asked the grocery store owner’s wife to watch the things, then made two trips carrying everything upstairs. Luckily, she lived on the second floor, so two trips up and down weren’t exhausting.

She returned the tricycle to Gao Chunyan, then stopped for a bowl of rice noodles. In the afternoon, she went home early to start braising beef and other marinated dishes like lotus root, potatoes, and kelp.

Starting tomorrow, she would sell not only porridge and cold dishes but also marinated items by weight.

Marinated dishes took a long time to prepare, especially braised beef which required slow simmering, but they were easier than cold dishes, just needing careful attention to heat.

Around four or five in the afternoon, Fu Wei arrived with three men, bringing a truckload of old furniture. They drove a blue open-top transport truck—common for moving—and the driver was Xue Xiaoshan.

The truck barely fit on the street, blocking much of the road. Fu Wei and his men planned to unload first, then move the truck to a nearby open space.

Lin Xuexia saw the truck with furniture outside her window and guessed it was Fu Wei’s group. She grabbed her keys and went downstairs to meet them. When she opened the iron gate, both were startled to see each other.

Yesterday, Fu Wei had worn a formal suit; she had been dressed plainly and simply. Today, after buying her goods, she had bathed and changed into a white blouse with a bow-tied silk collar, a light blue skirt, her hair curled and loose, adorned with a blue-and-white patterned headband. On her feet were simple black flat shoes with gold square buckles. Her look was elegant yet charming—much more beautiful than when she sold goods at the stall, like a youthful movie star.

Fu Wei was dressed far more casually—black pants and a black tank top, with an unbuttoned white shirt over it. His pants were dusty, showing he’d hurried from a construction site.

Both were surprised by each other’s appearance.

Fu Wei stared unblinking at Lin Xuexia. As a man, he rarely paid attention to fashion. Men’s clothes, no matter how varied, were just shirts and pants in shades of black, white, or gray. Women’s clothing… meeting Lin Xuexia three times had always brought different impressions. In the red dress, she was dazzling; in simple clothes, clean and fresh; today, dressed like this, she was like a sunflower chasing the sun—youthful, radiant, and graceful.

He realized how much a woman’s outfit could change her appearance and aura.

“Did you come here?” Lin Xuexia opened her mouth slightly, her gaze shifting outward. Fu Wei’s shirt was thin, clearly revealing the muscles beneath. The open front showed a tanned, toned chest gleaming in the sunlight.

Young, sexy, and full of vigorous strength.

Lin Xuexia felt a slight disdain for herself—she knew she shouldn’t be looking, but couldn’t help it.

She even noticed that compared to Fu Wei’s suit pants, the fitted black pants made his backside look quite shapely.

Oh heavens, she thought in horror—what was she thinking? What was occupying her mind?

In her previous life, Lin Xuexia would have been afraid of the fierce Fu Wei, avoiding him. Later, Fu Wei always appeared gentle and gentlemanly in front of her—pretending to be refined and cultured.

Lin Xuexia raised her head, her eyes scanning his straight nose and locking with his bright, piercing gaze. Through the light in his pupils, she saw her own reflection.

It was as if she was only beginning to truly know herself today, lifting the heavy veil that concealed her deepest self, revealing the vivid truth. She belatedly realized that perhaps from the very start, she had liked this sexy, dominant side of him.

She liked his dominance, his beast-like nature that fiercely claimed its prey.

She had just been too ashamed to admit it.

“Honey,” Fu Wei tilted his head slightly, a thin smile curling his lips. He had been nervous getting out of the truck, tried brushing the dust off his pants but couldn’t get it all. He worried she wouldn’t like this rougher version of him.

Seeing her rosy cheeks flush under his gaze—like the evening glow of midsummer—ignited a fire in his heart.

His Adam’s apple moved slightly. Recalling yesterday’s sweetness, his eyes darkened with desire, struggling to hold back the urge to kiss her.

“Xuexia, want to hold hands?”