Zhao Ger's gaze fell on Liuliu. Right now Liuliu was lying next to Guaizai, looking blissful.
This past month, Liuliu hadn't been clingy with Zhou Ger at all. Every morning as soon as he opened his eyes, he'd mumble about wanting to find Guaizai and Fang Zichen. Later it got even worse—at night he simply didn't want to go back.
He didn't have many friends in Yuanzhou, just Jiaojiao. After coming to Hezhou and playing with Guaizai for a while, they went to Anhe Village. Although there were plenty of children in the village, Liuliu couldn't really play with them. The games children played were just those same two—hide and seek or playing in the mud.
These games held no interest for older children anymore. It was nothing like following Guaizai and Fang Zichen—even just picking pears could turn into something like a battle. It was truly exciting and fun.
Before, when he couldn't see Guaizai, he'd miss him. Back in Yuanzhou when he was little, when Guaizai's letters came, he'd tell Zhou Ger he missed Guaizai. "Daddy, take me to find Guaizai, okay?" Later, when he got a bit older and more sensible, he stopped making a fuss. After reading each letter, he'd carefully put it away. Sometimes when he was bored, he'd take them out and read them, staring at the letters for half a day.
Guaizai was his only friend. Now that they were together, he naturally couldn't bear to be separated. He was happy and wanted to sleep with Guaizai at night, so Zhou Ger allowed it.
The next morning, everyone came on their own to buy instant noodles. But when they arrived at the stall, they found the fulang cooking noodles—and these noodles were different from the instant noodles they'd seen yesterday.
Zhao Ger scooped two bowls of hot and sour noodles for Guaizai, who carried them to the side and slurped them up.
"Boss, what's this?"
Hot and sour noodles didn't have the fragrant smell of instant noodles, but the reddish color made them look very appetizing.
Zhao Ger still recognized him—this was the man who yesterday said his son was shorter than Liuliu. "It's hot and sour noodles. Would you like a bowl?"
This was someone who didn't lack silver. "Alright, give me a bowl too."
"Okay, that'll be twelve copper coins."
"Huh? Only twelve copper coins?" The man's brows immediately furrowed. Yesterday's instant noodles were expensive, but they were truly delicious. This hot and sour noodle thing probably wasn't as good as instant noodles. But no matter—he'd just treat it as trying something new.
The noodles had been soaked in water beforehand, so they cooked quickly. The seasonings on the cutting board beside them were already portioned out bowl by bowl. Zhao Ger just needed to add the seasoning and scoop them out.
It was now mid-to-late in the tenth lunar month, and the morning air was still a bit chilly. The hot and sour noodles weren't scalding—after being scooped a couple of times, they were now just warm, ready to eat right away.
The man originally thought they wouldn't be as good as instant noodles, but after tasting them, he immediately felt these hot and sour noodles were even better than instant noodles. This was the flavor he liked.
Smooth and refreshing, numbing and spicy, fragrant and savory, sour and oily, but not the least bit greasy. One bite and his whole body felt wonderful.
People who came later saw him eating bowl after bowl, the bowls stacked up high, and didn't hesitate either.
"Fulang, give me a bowl too."
Oh my, too delicious. One bowl wasn't enough—he needed another. But in just this short time, the line had grown incredibly long. He'd just finished one bowl and originally one more would fill him up, but now looking at it, the line already reached the end of the street. If he really went to line up, by the time it was his turn, that first bowl would probably already be digested.
So should he line up or not? But if he just left, the noodles were really too delicious. He'd just heard someone say this was the big merchant caravan that entered the city a couple days ago. They seemed to have a lot of goods, but plenty of people were buying too! Yesterday he saw many people buying. Several carts of goods—where did they all go? And now it seemed they had more than just one type of goods. Who knew how much hot and sour noodles there were—what if he came tomorrow and they were gone?
Just as he was hesitating, Fang Zichen jumped out again, not even needing a script.
"Good news, good news! Fellow townsfolk who are in a hurry and don't want to line up, look over here."
Everyone gathered around Fang Zichen to listen to his pitch.
Sweet potato noodles?
They'd still never heard of them. But like instant noodles, they required no cooking skill at all. Just soak them before eating, then boil and scoop them out. Want soup? Add some water. Want them dry? Keep them dry. Add whatever seasoning you like — you could even add a fart and it'd still taste fine.
These two foods, in modern times, would just be so-so. Because in modern times there was so much to eat, with endless varieties. Just on the street, there were dozens of types of noodles alone. Having tried every flavor, people naturally wouldn't think instant noodles were anything special—just ordinary.
But Da Xia was different after all. It wasn't lamb noodles or pork noodles—just wontons and thick noodles. The side dishes and fillings were different, but they all came down to the same few things—pitifully monotonous.
Outside, a bowl of wontons cost thirteen copper coins, with lots of soup and little filling. Yesterday they'd been busy late and rarely went out, so Fang Zichen and Zhao Ger took the four children out to eat once. It was supposed to be pork and scallion filling, but the wontons were full of green—one bite and it was all scallion. As for the pork the boss mentioned, Fang Zichen hadn't seen any at all. He figured the shop's meat-chopping chef must have some impressive skills—one probably couldn't spot that meat mince without a magnifying glass. After finishing a bowl of wontons, Fang Zichen didn't even need to ask—he went and bought ten steamed buns for the four children.
That bowl of wontons—needless to say, for his family's little ones, one bowl probably amounted to eating nothing.
But even so, this used to cost only seven copper coins in Fu'an Town. Now it was nearly double, and still so many people ate it...
Fang Zichen immediately decided to raise the price of sweet potato noodles again—to sixty-eight copper coins per catty.
When he said this, the common folk were still a bit hesitant. This handful didn't look like much—probably enough to cook two bowls. It was really a bit expensive.
"Not expensive." Fang Zichen said, "Big sister, first time meeting, you might not know my character. But actually, I'm an upright, kind, quite honest person who doesn't tell lies. My character is top-notch. I won't cheat you. You see, my sweet potato noodles look like little, but after you take them home, soak them, and cook them, this handful can make seven bowls."
The woman was amused by his words. "Really?"
"Oh, would I lie to you, big sister? With this honest face of mine—unless your family eats off platters, my sweet potato noodles taste good no matter how you cook them. It's a new food! Only sixty-eight copper coins. You can't buy a loss, and you can't buy a cheat."
He was handsome, and when he smiled, his face lit up with warmth and brightness, making him seem to glow all over. The woman was very happy to talk with him. "Then I'll buy some and take them home to try?"
Fang Zichen put the sweet potato noodles into the basket she extended. "Sure! I guarantee you'll try them and want more."
The woman chuckled.
"Young master, give me two catties too." It was the big sister who'd blushed looking at him yesterday when he was promoting the toilet paper.
Fang Zichen didn't dare even raise his head to look at her. He scooped two handfuls for her too.
"If you don't want them hot and sour, you can stew them at home with big bones, add some soy sauce, and they're just as delicious—not inferior to what's sold outside at all."
"And they keep for a long time. If you have pickled vegetables or tofu, stewing them together is even more amazing."
The sweet potato noodles were snatched up again. In just two days, three carts were sold. On the day they entered the city, everyone had clearly seen how many carts of goods there were. They knew only this merchant caravan had these goods—none of the shops in Shangyang sold them. Before, they'd never even heard of them. When buying, they chatted with Zhao Ger and learned the goods came from Hezhou... Oh my, that was where Lord Fang who made chemical fertilizer was stationed!
This merchant caravan came from there!
Back then, whenever someone mentioned Hezhou, the common folk would say, "Whatzhou? Hezhou? Where's that? Never heard of it."
Now it was different. Even the deaf knew about it.
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