The cost of the pancakes was tricky to calculate, so Lu Yang told him to figure it with half-profit: “When I make buns, it’s about the same.”
In the city, flour and meat were at standard prices—no one gave them discounts. But seasonings were much cheaper, which could offset the difference.
If one day he made more than usual, profit could be calculated as forty percent of the total, leaving sixty percent as cost.
They had thirty pancakes, sold twenty-seven for a total of 135 wen. An extra forty wen came from the sauce and salted eggs.
The savory meat pancakes weren’t suitable for adding more sauce—those who tried said it was already salty. The salted duck eggs were salty too; separately fine, but with sauce it was too much.
Lu Liu reflected—it was his lack of precision.
The other day at home, eating pork crackling scallion pancakes, rolling in sauce and salted egg was fine. But with savory meat pancakes, it didn’t work.
Luckily, there were only about ten customers. The fish soup had a good reputation; those who drank it spoke well of it, so he could hope to keep them as repeat customers.
Shun’ge brought over a pot of mung bean soup, served a bowl each, and even handed over the sugar jar so everyone could add a spoonful.
Lu Yang took a couple of sips, while Chen Guizhi and Zhao Peilan each brought a child out to watch the fun.
Lu Yang immediately set down his ladle and clapped for the two little ones.
“Oh my, whose babies are these? How are they so cute! Come here, let me hold you!”
When with Lu Liu, the babies couldn’t tell who their father was, but when held by either, they were calm and happy.
Lu Yang looked at Zhao Peilan: “Mother, want some mung bean soup?”
She had already eaten and came out to play. As soon as she sat, he handed her a bowl.
Lu Yang asked, “Has Father come out?”
Zhao Peilan shook her head: “They’re at home printing books, said they’d come after mealtime.”
Lu Yang smiled: “Well, that’s something. At least they’re diligent—even when worried, they’re diligent. I’ll drop by this afternoon.”
Lu Yang wasn’t going to the dock today. Li Feng had to go to buy a heart-protection mirror for Manager Xiao Hong. After finishing the mung bean soup and playing with the children, he waited for Lu Liu to finish talking.
Lu Liu was meticulous. Those small miscellaneous expenses that were hard to calculate bothered him—he was so concerned that the joy of earning almost disappeared, sweat beading on his forehead.
Lu Yang said, “Later we’ll make a ledger. Don’t calculate miscellaneous expenses yet; track them monthly. For example, a jar of sauce—check at month-end and subtract used cost. Today’s surplus is roughly 107 wen. If you insist on being precise, count miscellaneous expenses as ten wen, leaving ninety-seven wen profit.”
“Ninety-seven wen!” Lu Liu’s eyes lit up. “That’s three days of groceries!”
Li Feng said, “You worked hard at the stall, take a wage. Save it as pocket money.”
Their family had always done it this way: everyone worked, large expenses came from home, but each person kept some pocket money for personal use. Chen Guizhi had set this when raising the children. Even in hard times, they received coins, few in number but their own to spend freely.
Li Feng had saved for certain things before—earlier, he bought arrowheads himself, unlike other children who sneaked their father’s arrows.
Lu Liu thought for a moment and said, “I’ll take ten wen, I didn’t do much.”
Li Feng gave him thirty wen. The morning’s work took an hour or two: preparing fish, simmering fish soup, thoroughly removing fish bones to remove the smell, cooking pancake filling, buying fish and meat from the market, pushing the cart, and calling out to customers—it wasn’t easy.
Lu Liu said, “I only earned ninety-some wen, and I take thirty?”
Li Feng counted the wage for him: “You won’t always earn just this. Our Lu Liu will make big money in the future.”
Lu Liu was pleased and took the coins.
Sixty-seven wen net profit—quite a lot, covering two days of groceries.
With that settled, Li Feng headed to the dock.
Lu Yang stayed home with Shun’ge. He held little Mai’s hand, imitating Li Feng: “Our Lu Liu will make big money in the future!”
Lu Liu laughed and cried at the same time. “Brother! Don’t teach Mai like that!”
Lu Yang said, “Okay, then. Look, Mai, this is your father, Chef Lu Liu. First time running a stall, and he earned three days’ groceries. Make him buy you something tasty!”
The two little ones could now have some rice porridge. With the family’s good conditions, Li Feng had bought high-quality rice, six wen per jin, pounded in a small stone mortar until fine.
Lu Liu smelled the aroma and had a bowl—it really was fragrant.
He said he had earned money and planned to buy good rice to steam rice cakes for his big brother, which made Lu Yang grin from ear to ear.
They chatted a bit in the main hall. As mealtime approached, Lu Yang left to go home and cook.
At home, he would deliver meals to Xie Yan. At noon, under the hot sun, he carried the food box wearing a straw hat. Lu Liu came to help, and they immediately made a large straw hat.
The market hats were too small; for his thin brother, they didn’t even cover the shoulders—uncomfortable under the sun.
Summer required appetizing dishes. Lu Yang hadn’t had time to buy ingredients after learning Lu Liu would run the stall, so he made spicy-sour lotus root cubes, smashed cucumbers, and a stir-fried vegetable. He also prepared steamed eggs with minced meat and steamed meatballs—both meat and vegetables, light and nourishing.
He didn’t make mung bean soup, as Lu Liu had already prepared enough, but packed some to bring along.
At the school, seeing the sun too strong, Lu Yang handed the box to the gatekeeper, no need to call Xie Yan outside.
But the gatekeeper returned with an empty box, and Xie Yan followed.
Lu Yang sighed: “Didn’t I say you don’t need to come out?”
Xie Yan stood in the shade beside him. Despite the sun, the shaded area was still hot. Holding a large palm fan, he fanned Lu Yang: “You came, how could I not come out?”
He added, “I like the private school now. I study here, and you bring meals—I can go in and sit a bit.”
Lu Yang teased: “You’re childish.”
Xie Yan pouted: “So are you, then?”
Lu Yang pretended not to understand: “We only met this morning. Just a few hours, right?”
Xie Yan, feigning shock: “Just a few hours?” Then genuinely, sourly: “Having a younger brother, you forget your husband.”
Lu Yang rarely called him husband—it sounded stiff and formal.
He said: “It’s fine. I remember my man, that’s enough.”
Xie Yan was coaxed into laughter.
Lunch break was short; after eating, they walked to aid digestion, grabbed a quick nap, then would be energized for class. Lu Yang urged him to return.
Xie Yan agreed: “If you don’t come tonight, I’ll go back by myself.”
Lu Yang nodded: “Okay. I’ll make something tasty, and you can order a dish.”
Xie Yan said: “You still can’t eat too spicy. Two dishes for lunch, then a light dinner. I’ll make mushroom scrambled eggs.”
Lu Yang patted his arm: “Go on, I’m heading back too.”
The couple left without hesitation.
After a short walk, Lu Yang peeked from behind the stone lion and caught Xie Yan at the main gate. They exchanged smiles and truly parted ways this time.
Back home, Lu Yang finally ate. Each time he picked up a chopstick, whenever he grabbed spicy-sour lotus root or smashed cucumber, he imagined Xie Yan’s voice. He finished his meal with half a bowl of rice alongside the steamed meatballs and vegetables.
It was hot, and the dog wasn’t comfortable.
Lu Yang prepared a basin of water in the yard for it. When it got hot, it washed and then lay on the mat to nap. In the heat, even dogs laze around.
