Chapter 7

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Before electronic payments became widespread, Wang Xuejiao once worked part-time at McDonald's. She handled countless 50 and 100 yuan bills at the cash register—far too many to verify each with a counterfeit detector, and it was inconvenient to scrutinize the watermarks openly in front of customers, as some sensitive patrons might take offense.

At first, she encountered as many as six counterfeit bills. Although she wasn’t responsible for reimbursing the losses, being publicly listed for accepting fake currency was humiliating.

Determined to improve, she sought help through connections to learn how to identify genuine notes and practiced diligently. She also mastered the subtle art of checking watermarks from clever angles without arousing customers’ suspicion.

Originally, Xu Yong was supposed to help Wang Xuejiao with cash handling, but he was fired after failing to calculate change for four meals plus three braised eggs from a hundred yuan note within twenty seconds.

Wang Xuejiao instead had him sit on a tricycle to eat, serving as a lookout while keeping an eye out for suspicious individuals.

Lu Aimei’s husband approached, noticing a fifty-yuan note atop the cash box. He immediately ordered five meals to reduce waiting time and minimize potential trouble.

“All right!” Wang Xuejiao responded cheerfully. She efficiently prepared the order, handed over the plastic bag, and clipped the hundred-yuan note with tongs. In that instant, she sensed something off—the bill’s color leaned greenish.

She swiftly scanned the watermark from a clever angle.

…Who is this? The Wicked Witch of the West?

Could it look any more counterfeit?

Just then, Xu Yong, sitting on the tricycle eating, approached Wang Xuejiao with his lunch box. Their eyes met, and she instantly knew: there was something suspicious about this man.

Wang Xuejiao removed her plastic gloves and touched the bill, instantly confirming it was counterfeit.

“That money of yours…” she began, but Xu Yong quickly took the bill from her.

Though he couldn’t discern any difference in the paper, he also thought the watermark portrait looked grotesque.

Seeing Wang Xuejiao had caught on, Lu Aimei’s husband tried to stay calm. “Huh? What’s wrong with this money? Someone else gave it to me.”

Most vendors would just smile and say, “Exchange it,” or simply keep the note and walk away.

Lu’s husband was already reaching to take the hundred-yuan note back, but Xu Yong didn’t return it. “Who gave it to you?”

“Someone who came to buy things.”

Xu Yong had more questions but the place was crowded.

“Come with me.” He flashed his ID quickly and grabbed the man’s arm, leading him to a less crowded spot.

The man was terrified, not even noticing what Xu Yong was holding, and thought he was about to be dragged to a secluded place for a beating.

He tried to scream for help.

Xu Yong was quick. With one hand, he flipped open the lunch box and shoved a deboned pork knuckle into the man’s mouth.

The man choked, unable to speak, flailing his arms and accidentally bumping into a customer choosing dishes in front of the lunch stall.

“What are you doing?”

“Are you crazy?”

Xu Yong apologized profusely, “Sorry, he was eating too fast and choked. Sorry, really sorry,” and forcibly dragged the man away.

Onlookers saw the man with a mouthful of braised meat and looked at the opened lunch box with traces of food, as if eaten by hand.

“Is this guy starving to death, eating with his hands?”

“Don’t say that, it smells really good… How much is this box?”

When they learned it cost thirty yuan, they all gasped simultaneously.

Looking at the man who had just choked, he had bought five boxes. Judging by his neat clothes, he didn’t look like a beggar starving for days, yet he was so eager to grab and eat with his hands?

Curiosity among the crowd peaked.

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“Smells really good.”

“Still, not worth thirty yuan.”

“Can we try a small piece first? If it’s good, we’ll buy more.”

Wang Xuejiao politely declined any tasting offers, even refusing a five-yuan purchase for a small piece.

“Duiyan” couldn’t help but be curious. He paid thirty yuan. Having stood nearby inhaling the aroma for a while, he was tempted.

He had a knack for cooking and was confident he could figure out the braising recipe.

When he had time, he planned to make his own batch and sell it for ten yuan a serving, sure it would be a hit.

“Duiyan” chose a thick piece first, a spot usually hard to flavor and often bland.

But it wasn’t bland at all. The meat was thoroughly stewed and lean inside and out.

The few stalks of boiled greens had a faint salty taste; salt had been added to the boiling water. Normally bland when boiled, the greens paired perfectly with the slightly fatty braised pork, absorbing its richness and aroma.

Even the less oily duck claws and wings were fine; the thick, flavorful sauce coated the greens perfectly.

Before he realized it, he had finished the entire box of assorted braised delights.

Only then did he notice he had eaten too quickly, his mind limited to a simple customer’s praise: “Fragrant, tender, crispy, fall-apart, damn tasty.”

He had forgotten his real task.

Closing his eyes to savor the flavors, he could identify about ninety percent of the spices used in the braising liquid, including which ones had been dry-roasted or fried beforehand and roughly when they were added.

With a few more tries, he could replicate it.

But ten percent of the flavor eluded him—familiar yet not quite any known seasoning.

Sometimes, scoring sixty percent is a victory.

Sometimes, ninety-nine percent is a death sentence.

“Duiyan” understood that only with ninety percent of the spices, he could at best replicate a six-yuan-per-pound market dish, just hard work for little gain.

What he wanted was something that effortlessly captivated people.

Just like how he once beat a rival lunch stall with two tricks: keeping leafy greens fresh for days and steaming eggs without holes, smooth as mirrors.

Having that stall nearby didn’t steal much business, and it made his own affordable quality stand out nicely.

Wang Xuejiao had no idea that the man beside her was deep in thought, turning things over in his mind. She just wanted Xu Yong back quickly—she had promised a plastic star seller to deliver lunch by noon but had completely forgotten due to the counterfeit bill incident.

It was already 12:20.

Waiting and waiting, Xu Yong didn’t return, but Li Chaomei did; he was assigned to monitor the North Building. Transactions there were less frequent than the South Building, but the average customer spend was higher. Each floor had bosses with counting machines that could detect counterfeit notes.

No one knew if the bosses resolved suspicious money on the spot or if users got intimidated by the machines and backed off.

They wandered up and down all morning without finding anything.

At lunchtime, the place was even quieter, with more shopkeepers than customers in the large hall.

Li Chaomei decided to eat first.

Striding up to Wang Xuejiao, he began, “I…”

“You’re here? Then don’t leave.” Wang Xuejiao took off her apron and put it on him, along with the protective sleeves. “Someone ordered food. I’ll deliver it; you watch the stall!”

Li Chaomei was puzzled.

He looked at the stall and noticed there wasn’t even a price sign. Wang Xuejiao had printed only twenty menus, all taken.

How much did a meal cost?

He didn’t know.

How big was a portion?

Also unknown.

Li Chaomei only knew one thing:

The capital was provided by the office.

If it was a lot, it wasn’t his money at risk.

If it was little, he’d be scolded if customers complained.

Who in their right mind would choose to get scolded?

Some curious people drawn by the aroma asked about prices. Li Chaomei was stunned for a moment, then heard “Duiyan” shouting, “Five fifty, hot food and dishes!”

He blurted out, “Five!”

…

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Wang Xuejiao carried the plastic bag to deliver lunch to the second floor of the South Building, almost missing the stall surrounded by students from several nearby vocational schools out during lunch break.

Seeing Wang Xuejiao, the female stall owner only had time to nod at her, signaling her to put down the food, then turned back to teach the girls how to finish their braided bracelets.

Wang Xuejiao had once followed the trend of making bracelets but never learned how to finish them, always relying on classmates.

She couldn’t help but pause, wanting to learn.

After the students left, the female owner caught her breath and handed Wang Xuejiao some money.

“Ah, it’s especially busy at noon. It should calm down once they’re back in class.”

Wang Xuejiao took the money and warned, “I almost got a counterfeit bill earlier. Be careful.”

Just then, five or six more female students arrived, chattering as they browsed greeting cards. A middle-aged woman wearing a reddish wool hat squeezed among them, picked up several star curtain sets, asked the price, then added, “Can you give me a discount?”

The shop owner shook her head. “This is a small business; no bargaining. I’m the cheapest on the entire second floor…”

The woman said nothing more, grabbed a set and handed over a hundred-yuan note.

Nearby, a female student asked, “If I buy twenty, can I get a discount?”

“Do you have scented ones?”

“Are there pre-folded stars?”

…

The owner, taking the money and answering questions, habitually rubbed the bills but felt nothing amiss, casually about to put them into the cash box. Suddenly, she spotted Wang Xuejiao and recalled the counterfeit warning, prompting her to take a closer look.

That second glance caught something unusual.

She returned the hundred-yuan note to the woman. “Please exchange it.”

The woman frowned, took back the money, “This is all I have. Forget it, I won’t buy.”

As she turned to leave, Wang Xuejiao instinctively followed.

At that moment, Xu Yong and Lu Aimei’s husband came up the stairs to ask other stall owners if they had received counterfeit money.

Lu’s husband immediately spotted the woman in the wool hat and pointed at her. “That’s her! I remember! Those gloves are ours!”