Li Feng hadn’t heard about it and joined the conversation: “How does roasting flour make money?”
This was something Lu Lin had mentioned to Zhang Tie. The piglets would be picked up after delivering the roasted flour, using the same truck.
The couple hadn’t caught all the details and didn’t understand the specifics, only knowing that roasting flour could bring in money.
Li Feng didn’t pry further. His family already ran several profitable ventures, while Lu Jiatun only had one—a simple pot-and-spatula operation. Stir-frying flour seemed easier than making sauce, but would it last? With Wang Meng and Daqiang both around, asking too many questions might let others snatch the business.
Hurrying along, they reached the county seat.
Wang Meng, who had delivered firewood with them last time, was a familiar face. He took Daqiang along to deliver firewood to the brewery, helping him get acquainted.
Li Feng, meanwhile, pulled the cart of mountain goods, taking the two fathers to Lu Yang’s shop.
Outside Lu Yang’s shop, a tasting stall was already set up. The tasting spoons were short bamboo strips, brought by Lu Lin from home.
Their family did bamboo weaving, so they had plenty of these. One long bamboo strip could be cut into dozens of short, flat spoons. After customers finished tasting, they’d set the spoons aside. The shop would wash them and reuse them.
The samples were free. Passersby heard the vendor’s calls and turned their heads. Spotting the sauce dishes, they turned the corner to come taste.
The sauce contained diced mushrooms and meat. The vendor clearly stated this while calling out, but customers got a fixed portion per scoop—whatever they scooped up was what they got. No picking and choosing.
The short, flat bamboo strips perfectly controlled the sample size, and soon a crowd gathered around.
Many complained they couldn’t taste it properly. Lu Yang motioned for them to step back: “Then get in line again and try another time. Make room for the brothers and sisters behind you—let them have a taste too! Everyone eats together!”
Don’t just squat in front and eat.
The mushroom sauce’s flavor needed no introduction—many had sampled it while it was being stir-fried, and all praised it.
Discerning customers detected the savory sauce aroma, bit into mushrooms, then spotted real meat chunks inside. Their eyes lit up—they knew this was a steal.
Cheap sauces tasted bland, lacking saltiness and fragrance.
No wonder—the cheapest sauce sells for five cash per pound, the same price as soy sauce.
Soy sauce is mostly water, while cheap sauce is thick and sticky, with beans you can actually taste. That cheap stuff must be diluted; it’s lost all flavor, just dyed to look appetizing.
Lu Yang set up his stall before lunch, hawking samples. He brought out just two jin—once they were gone, they were gone. If you wanted more, you’d have to come back next time.
When would that be? Three or five days later. If you couldn’t wait, you could support his business.
His delicious and affordable mushroom and pork mince sauce: twelve cash per jin, six cash per bowl.
Lu Yang had custom scoops made—each scoop holds half a pound. Bowls cost extra: two cash each.
Bring your own bowl, and you skip the bowl charge.
You could also buy small jars of sauce. Each jar holds a little over two pounds, with an extra ounce or so. That works out to just over one cash. With the jar, two catties of sauce cost twenty-four cash.
First-time buyers mostly opted for small bowls.
They’d sample it on the spot, find it fragrant, crave it, and since it was mealtime, take a bowl home first—they’d worry about paying later.
As business began, Lu Lin collected payments and handed out jars while Lu Yang stood aside, observing the customers’ expressions.
The ladle proved too small; many couldn’t taste the full flavor.
Those who returned to buy had prepared themselves—either tasting only the mushroom chunks or both mushroom and meat chunks.
A few others tasted it, found it decent but not irresistible. Seeing others buy—just six cash per bowl—they decided to grab one too.
Li Feng arrived to deliver goods, unloading at the back. Hearing Zhang Tie mention the tasting booth up front and that Lu Yang would need supplies later, he took his time unloading.
He informed the two fathers and made his way around to the front.
The tasting sauce was only two jin, and it ran out quickly.
Li Feng wanted to support the stall but couldn’t get any tasting sauce.
He thought for a moment, pulled out ten cash coins, bought a bowl of sauce, grabbed two steamed buns, and sat down by the door to eat.
He had a hearty appetite and wasn’t picky, savoring every bite. He dipped the steamed buns into the sauce, alternating between a bite of bun and a spoonful of sauce. Without saying a word, he finished a large bun in just a few mouthfuls before turning back to ask, “Owner, do you have any water to drink?”
Lu Yang saw he knew how to get ahead and poured him a bowl of hot tea.
Li Feng finished the bowl of hot tea and started on his second steamed bun.
He ate the same way, still saying nothing.
The timing for the tasting was perfect, and his arrival was fortuitous—it was mealtime.
Many who hadn’t yet tasted the food or felt their appetites stirred found themselves craving it just by watching his enthusiastic eating. They began asking what it tasted like.
Li Feng glanced at them but remained silent. After finishing in a few bites, he returned the bowl nearby, thus avoiding paying for it.
After eating, he patted his belly, putting on quite the show: “Ten coins for a filling meal—steamed buns and meat, what a feast!”
Before long, Wang Meng and Da Qiang arrived.
They too entered through the back door, missing Li Feng. Peering cautiously from behind, they spotted the scene and promptly began mimicking his performance.
Coincidentally, Zhao Peilan saw her in-laws arrive while Li Feng delivered goods. Though dinner was prepared, it wasn’t enough for everyone, so she boiled a pot of noodles.
They grabbed bowls and chopsticks, each served themselves a bowl of plain noodles, then dashed out onto the street. Circling around to the shop’s front entrance, they took advantage of the crowd to quickly buy some sauce to eat with their noodles.
Originally, they planned to each buy a bowl of sauce. But Lu Yang, fearing they might overdo the act and backfire, advised, “If you’re mixing it with noodles, this one bowl of sauce can dress three bowls. You two should just share one bowl of sauce.”
They promptly pulled out six cash coins, divided the sauce immediately, returned the bowls, and didn’t even pay for the bowls.
Without a word, they moved to the wall and ate heartily.
Watching them, Li Feng feigned regret: “I should’ve bought noodles too. We could’ve shared that sauce.”
Daqiang, quick with his tongue, shot back, “Why don’t you go buy a bowl of plain noodles right now? Pour mine into yours and mix it up—that’ll be a bowl of sauce noodles too!”
Everyone around them laughed.
That was a good idea.
That noon, many people bought plain noodles.
Plain noodles were cheap. Three people shared a bowl of sauce, costing each just two cash coins. They promptly returned the bowls.
The sauce was savory and salty. The diced mushrooms and meat retained their freshness, making each bite delicious and perfect with rice. It drew them in, eating spoonful after spoonful.
As more people ate here, those who hadn’t tasted the sample sauce grew hungry too.
Some were too lazy to buy noodles, so they bought steamed buns nearby and pooled their money for a bowl of sauce. They’d dip their buns together, sharing the sauce—it worked just fine.
Li Feng quietly walked away, then circled back to the shop.
After finishing their noodles, Wang Meng and Da Qiang picked up their chopsticks and left.
Only when business slowed at the front door did Lu Yang find time to step into the back courtyard.
There he spotted his two fathers.
His smile deepened. “Why didn’t you say you were coming? I made you wait.”
They had learned of Lu Yang’s illness during the New Year festivities. Seeing no improvement after so long, and hearing from Li Feng that it seemed to have worsened, they fixed their gaze on Lu Yang the moment they met. Seeing how haggard he looked, both men’s eyes filled with tears.
Lu Yang truly couldn’t sit still.
He laughed helplessly, “Today just happened to be busy. I was setting up the stall for tastings. If you’d come yesterday, I’d have been sitting around dozing.”
It was mealtime, so eating came first.
Three grown men with hearty appetites—two steamed buns and a bowl of vegetable noodles barely filled them halfway. In appreciation for their help attracting customers, Lu Yang invited them to sit down for another meal.
Daqiang was meeting Lu Yang for the first time. He’d been startled enough at the front gate, but now he couldn’t help glancing repeatedly at Lu Yang’s face.
He’d heard the brothers looked alike. No one had described it like this.
In the village, when praising someone, they’d say they were cut from the same mold, absolutely identical. This was always said about sons resembling their fathers. He’d always thought it was just polite talk.
Lu Yang wasn’t one to take it lying down. He glared back at him: “Keep staring, and you won’t get any more food.”
Daqiang: “…”
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