Chapter 11

Wang Xuejiao had never lit a coal stove in her past life or this one; she had never even seen how others started a fire.

“Can you do it or not?” Zheng Yuezhen looked at her with full suspicion.

“How will I know if I don’t try?” Wang Xuejiao rolled up her sleeves and was about to start.

Zheng Yuezhen stopped her, took off her protective sleeves and apron, and put them on Wang Xuejiao. “Wear these! You just changed clothes; don’t get them dirty!”

Wang Xuejiao held a lighter in her right hand and used fire tongs in her left to pick up a piece of honeycomb coal, placing it over the lighter’s flame.

She kept burning until the lighter was too hot to hold, then let go. The coal was only superficially scorched; its gray-black outer layer showed just a little white, but no spark ignited.

“What? How come? Didn’t they say nowadays honeycomb coal can be lit with just one matchstick?”

“That kind of coal doesn’t have yellow clay added and burns out quickly,” Zheng Yuezhen said, handing her a bundle of old newspapers used to kindle fire. “Here, light the newspaper with one match, then use the newspaper to light the coal—that still counts as one match.”

Fair enough.

Zheng Yuezhen guided Wang Xuejiao to lift the honeycomb coal slightly so as not to smother the newspaper underneath. After a while, the coal would catch fire.

After successfully kindling the fire, Zheng Yuezhen taught her how to close the air vent, leaving just enough of a gap to keep the stove burning without consuming fuel too fast.

After several trials, Wang Xuejiao was full of confidence and ready to take charge.

Preparing the braised meat was relatively simple; once the seasoning was right, as long as the fire didn’t go out and there was enough water, the meat would be delicious when the time came.

That night, Wang Xuejiao asked a colleague on night duty at the police station to watch over the kitchen fire. The next morning, she checked the results; the flavor was flawless.

At ten o’clock, she had to attend a meeting at the municipal bureau, so she took a lunchbox filled with meat with her.

Passing the gate guard, Wang Xuejiao jumped out of the car and walked in confidently. “Hello!”

The elderly guard, reading the newspaper, glanced up over his glasses at her. “Register.”

“All right! This box is braised meat I made myself. If you don’t mind, keep it as an extra dish.” Wang Xuejiao placed the box down.

The old man looked at her suspiciously. “For me?”

“Yes. If you hadn’t helped fix my bike yesterday, my mother would have scolded me for twenty years.” Wang Xuejiao smiled and glanced at her watch. “I have to hurry. Goodbye.”

The old man looked at the lunchbox, then at her as she hurried into the office building. His stern face softened, and the corners of his mouth lifted slightly.

The meeting focused on emphasizing the objectives of the operation, protocols for handling emergencies, duty shifts, and distribution of walkie-talkies.

Liu Zhiyong stressed, “These are specially approved and issued; take good care of them! Be careful! Don’t break them!”

Wang Xuejiao weighed the brick-sized walkie-talkie in her hand. “Good thing it’s winter and I’m wearing thick clothes; otherwise, I wouldn’t know where to put this.”

“Put it in your bag,” a male officer nearby said, patting his small side pouch.

Wang Xuejiao shook her head. “Aren’t you afraid of being robbed?”

Her impression of public security in the 1990s was very poor; if police officers lost their guns, losing a walkie-talkie was nothing.

After the meeting, the night shift went home to catch up on sleep, and the day shift took up their posts.

According to the schedule, Wang Xuejiao was responsible for the ten o’clock to ten o’clock watch. She set off on her tricycle.

Upon arrival, she set up a simple plastic shelter for herself. Sitting inside, protected from the wind and gathering warmth, it was quite comfortable.

By eleven, fellow vendors gradually gathered nearby. The wind blew hard, but no one put up shelters.

Unless they had some strange fondness for the wind from every direction, there had to be a reason.

Most likely, it was so they could quickly escape when the urban management officers arrived.

Wang Xuejiao thought her shelter was fine. At worst, she could just leave it behind. A few plastic sheets were worth only a few yuan; if confiscated, so be it. Besides, the case expenses were paid by the municipal bureau.

Shortly after eleven, the first customers appeared—college students who had no morning classes.

They were curious about everything new, especially food.

Someone approached to ask the price of the braised meat. Wang Xuejiao quoted thirty yuan, stunning the students.

At that time, a large bowl of beef noodle soup in the university cafeteria cost only 1.7 yuan. Although the “beef” was just a name, the portion was large enough to fill any male student.

A serving of green pepper potato slices was one yuan; girls could eat half a portion and add ten cents’ worth of rice to fill up.

Thirty yuan? At a restaurant, that might be reasonable.

But at a street stall? Thirty yuan?!

No matter how delicious, the students weren’t buying it and all avoided the stall.

At first, Wang Xuejiao remained calm; at worst, she would take the meat home and eat it herself.

When lunchtime came, the surrounding stalls were bustling, each with at least three or four customers.

Wang Xuejiao’s stall was empty.

This was unacceptable and dangerous. She didn’t know how long the operation would last.

A stall that was always deserted and stubbornly remained stood out too much.

Wang Xuejiao decided to add a quick, low-cost dish to showcase her cooking skills—fried rice and fried noodles.

The rice was ready, the meat and vegetables available, and the wok she had intended to use for noodle sauce would now be used for stir-frying.

At first, there were still no customers. Wang Xuejiao opened the thermal container, and the rich aroma of braised meat wafted down half the street.

“What’s that smell? So good.”

“Braised pig’s trotters.”

“Where?”

...

A group of boys, giggling, clustered around a bespectacled student. One dramatically sniffed the air. “Boss, this fried rice smells amazing. How about we go with this place?”

They were freshmen from the same dormitory. The one they called “Boss” was the eldest, who had taken a tutoring job.

Yesterday, his student’s unit test scores had improved dramatically—from an average of the teens to over fifty. Though still failing, the employer was very pleased, believing the child wasn’t slow, just poorly taught. He generously gave the tutor a 100-yuan bonus.

Proud, he boasted to his roommates, who teased him to treat them.

Thinking the employer promised an even bigger reward at the end of the term, he was generous and sat down at the stall. “Boss, eight bowls of fried rice, large bowls!”

“Ten yuan per bowl,” Wang Xuejiao replied.

The bespectacled boy’s eyes nearly doubled in size, his voice changed: “Du Shao?!”

Wang Xuejiao explained, “This is assorted fried rice with egg, vegetables, and meat.”

The boss was young and didn’t know how to refuse. Gritting his teeth, he agreed, “Fine, eight bowls!”

Wang Xuejiao took the money and opened the stove’s air vent fully. Fanning the fire, the gentle flame instantly flared up.

She held the wok handle with one hand and the spatula with the other, scooped half a ladle of oil and poured it in, swirling the spatula to coat the wok. Then she cracked eggs one by one directly into the spatula, breaking eight eggs into a small steel bowl before pouring all into the wok.

A curious student watching asked, “Boss, isn’t that wasting time going back and forth like that?”

Wang Xuejiao calmly replied, “Putting them all in at once means the first one might burn by the time the last goes in. Better to crack them into a bowl—if the last one is bad, I can catch it before it ruins the whole batch.”

“Oh, that makes sense!”

“You’re the professional, boss!”

It wasn’t about professionalism—it was from experience.

Yesterday, Zheng Yuezhen cracked three eggs into the wok. The first two were fine; the third was runny and slightly rotten. The three eggs blended into a mess, ruining the whole pan and causing her to curse for a long time, leaving a deep impression on Wang Xuejiao.

In her past life, to secure a minor role in a drama troupe, Wang Xuejiao had practiced tossing the wok. Whether the food tasted good or not, her technique was fluid and elegant, truly graceful.

That was why she chose fried rice.

She added diced carrots, green peas, and potatoes to create a tricolor vegetable mix, plus chopped braised pork belly. The golden fried rice soared high in the wok, then all fell back perfectly like a cascade of grains.

The small coal stove couldn’t match a restaurant’s gas stove for power, but with skillful moves, it could still produce magic.

Wang Xuejiao tilted the wok’s edge, letting the food touch the flame closely, triggering the Maillard reaction and creating the legendary wok hei.

Simply put, wok hei is the borderline between perfectly cooked and slightly charred food.

With this routine, who would doubt Wang Xuejiao was a street food vendor?

Within four minutes, all eight bowls were ready—white rice, yellow egg, orange carrots, green peas, white potatoes, and brown braised meat.

The colorful dishes alone made mouths water.

Starving young men eagerly dug in; the fried rice was rich in texture and delicious.

In the blink of an eye, all eight large bowls were emptied without a grain left.

One boy rubbed his stomach and looked at the boss longingly. “Still feel like one more bite.”

The boss stood coldly. “The cafeteria isn’t closed yet! Beef noodle soup will fill you up.”

“Bah, beef my foot! Last time, my bowl had a piece of meat the size of a fingernail. It was even translucent when I picked it up.”

“I didn’t even get a piece! I argued with the idiot, and he just rolled his eyes and told me to see the principal.”

The students grumbled about the school cafeteria, venting their frustrations. Eventually, the boss, still unsatisfied, pulled out the twenty yuan Wang Xuejiao had given him earlier. “Can you cut me a twenty-yuan portion?”

“Sure.” Wang Xuejiao sympathized with their cafeteria woes.

After the students left, Wang Xuejiao was busy clearing bowls when a young woman hurried toward her, followed by a sorry-looking man with a fawning smile.

“Juanjuan, just give me one chance. I promise to treat you well. I’ll do whatever you want.”

Li Juan was utterly annoyed and quickened her pace but couldn’t shake him off. She spotted a paper posted on Wang Xuejiao’s stall:

Braised Family Feast + White Rice, 30 yuan
Fried Rice/Fried Noodles, 10 yuan

She stopped, smirking at the prices, then looked at the man. “How about you buy me a fried rice first, and we sit down and talk?”

The man’s face darkened instantly. “I thought you were a girl who wasn’t materialistic. Turns out you’re gold-digging too. Look at your age and no boyfriend. Do you know what they say behind your back?”

“Heh.” Li Juan sat down and waved at Wang Xuejiao. “One Braised Family Feast, please.”

She smiled at the man, “You call me short, ugly, and poor, yet still dream? Want to marry a city girl to avoid twenty years of hard work?”

The man, furious, spat, “I hope you never get married,” and turned to leave.

Li Juan sneered, “If curses worked, we wouldn’t need to fight wars.”

In truth, she had sat down in a moment of hot blood, needing an act to slap reality in the face. Now that the man was gone, she sobered up—thirty yuan for street food.

She wanted to leave.

Wang Xuejiao gave her no chance for regret and had already brought the food.

Oh well, she thought, better to lose money and avoid trouble.

Li Juan took a bite, and the rich aroma instantly chased away her regrets.

It was incredibly fragrant!

She savored it slowly, packed half the portion to go, asked for some braising sauce, and headed toward the printing factory with her lunchbox.