At night they ate in the inn. When the dishes were brought up, Wang Da, Lao Wang’s son, asked how much a plate of stir-fried greens cost. Several tens of copper coins—so shocking he could barely sit still.
The attendant laughed: "Our inn is small and in a remote spot, so this counts as cheap. If you stayed somewhere like Tongfu Inn, a plate of greens could cost you this much."
The waiter held up four fingers.
Four hundred copper coins.
"Th-then would anyone eat it?"
"How could there not be? Only four hundred copper coins. Those masters go in for a meal and order two pots of wine, and a single meal costs them more than ten taels. A mere few hundred copper coins—they don’t even look at it."
More than ten taels? A person would spend that on just one meal, but if it were in their hands, it would be enough for their whole family to chew on for ten years.
The wealth of outsiders truly exceeded imagination.
The breathing of several people grew heavy. They all felt they had broadened their horizons.
This trip would be enough for them to brag about for a lifetime.
Zhang Fan listened nearby for a while, and his heart settled. If so, the several cartloads of paper they had brought would definitely sell.
After eating, everyone went back to their rooms to rest. The inn did not have many guest rooms, so it was naturally impossible for everyone to have a room. Most people slept in the large common bunk.
The border was fighting fiercely, but Shangyang was not affected in the slightest.
The next day, the common folk of Shangyang got up as usual and went out for a stroll. Some people did not like staying home for breakfast.
Changfu Street had the most food stalls, selling steamed buns, wontons, soup noodles, pancakes—more than one could count on one’s fingers. Ordinary commoners loved coming here to buy food, and today was no different. Some women even carried baskets on their arms and came in groups, wanting to buy some food to take home for their families.
But just as they reached the entrance of Changfu Street, they saw a large crowd gathered ahead.
What had happened?
Everyone exchanged a few glances and immediately hurried over to join the excitement.
A big-headed child sat by the roadside holding a basin, slurping noodles with loud "ao wu ao wu" sounds.
That little mouth was small and pink, and the child looked very cute. But it was with just this small mouth that, when slurping noodles, one bowl disappeared in one go.
He ate with great relish, that little look as if he were eating some peerless delicacy. Just watching made people crave it. And it really did smell good. A particularly tempting aroma drifted through the air, filling every corner.
As more and more onlookers gathered, a child ran over.
"Guaizai."
"Liuliu."
"Guaizai, why are you here? Weren’t you supposed to go buy steamed buns? What are you eating?"
"It’s instant noodles!" After saying that, Guaizai took another slurp, his little mouth moving and moving like a little rabbit.
Liuliu was very puzzled: "What are instant noodles? I’ve heard of beef noodles, mutton noodles, pork noodles, but never instant noodles. Can I have a bite?"
"You can. Good friends have to learn to share."
Liuliu took a bite: "Ah! So delicious! Where did you buy this? I want to eat it too."
Guaizai said: "Over by Xinyuan Street. It’s goods from out of town. Shangyang doesn’t have it. It’s so good. Come, Guaizai will take you there. Their sour and spicy noodles are also very tasty, and this instant noodle super deluxe version is even better."
The two little ones went off hand in hand.
The crowd around them, drawn in by the smell, could not bring themselves to leave. They had heard yesterday that a merchant caravan had come to the city, though they did not know what was being sold. Just now, that little kid had said it was goods from out of town… They could not help but follow.
Zhao Ger had been to Hengyang, so of course he knew the prices in such a place.
Although Shangyang could not compare to Hengyang, it was probably about the same.
Early in the morning, he had Wang Da go buy some pork intestines and wash them clean. The spices had been brought earlier. He borrowed the inn’s kitchen, braised a pot, and then set up a stall by the street and started cooking directly.
No one had ever seen these instant noodles before. If they didn't cook some once and let people taste them, then for something unfamiliar and unknown—and this wasn't a matter of one or two copper coins either; spending several tens of copper coins on something one had never eaten, no matter how much it was praised or talked up until one's throat was hoarse, the common folk probably wouldn't just take out silver to buy it.
They could offer samples, but Fang Zichen was stingy and did not want to let people take advantage at all.
The innkeeper was a very honest man surnamed Qian. Squatting nearby and watching them work for quite a while, now that the pot was set up and the vegetables washed, with nothing much left to busy himself with, he could not help coming over.
"Fang Fulang, if you want to set up a stall here, I’m afraid it won’t work!"
Around Xinyuan Street were mostly small inns. Usually there were not many people staying there, nor many shops. City people rarely came to this area to stroll. If they wanted to buy food, they went to Changfu Street. If they wanted to buy things to use or wear, they went to Changle Street. There was no one around Xinyuan Street.
The braised pork intestines were fragrant, soft, and tender. Zhao Ger gave Boss Qian a bowl. Among the managers they had brought, there were two fulang. When Uncle Tang led them in washing the intestines, Boss Qian had seen it all. It was made from pork offal, but he did not dislike it. In fact, he thought it smelled wonderful. He had never eaten this kind of food before—fragrant, spicy, and numbing. If it were paired with a little wine, it would probably be even better.
This stuff would definitely sell.
But if they sold it here, it might be difficult.
"It’s fine." Zhao Ger said: "We’re new here. Even if we wanted to set up a stall over on Changfu Street, I’m afraid there’d be no place for us."
That was indeed true. The city was not like the town. By the roadside there, whoever was fast got the spot. In the city, most food stalls had fixed places and had paid silver. Occupying space randomly would get one fined.
Villagers carrying their own baskets to sell vegetables did not occupy much space. They just came for a market day and left. They were mostly concentrated in the vegetable market. That place could be used freely, but one still had to pay silver to get in.
For all these reasons, outsiders wanting to do business outside faced difficulties on every side.
Boss Qian understood this too and sighed. The other party clearly did not lack money. They had brought many goods, had guards in groups, and spent generously. Boss Qian only took them for great merchants and did not think much more of it. He wanted to build good relations and have them stay at his inn if they came again in the future, earning even a little more was still making more. After all, they were not in the same trade. Apart from this, there was nothing else to gain. So he said: "Then you go ahead. If you lack anything—pots, bowls, pans—the back kitchen has them. Take whatever you need."
That was what he said, but Boss Qian felt they probably would not need it.
Zhao Ger was just about to thank him when Guaizai came running over from the entrance of the street carrying a basin.
"Boss, cook Guaizai two more bowls of instant noodles, the kind that doesn’t kill you."
Zhao Ger instinctively turned to look toward the second floor of the inn, and sure enough, he saw Fang Zichen with a livid face.
This damned child had taken the chance to eat his fill—and the deluxe version too. That meant adding vegetables, eggs, sausage, and meat!
He had already eaten a whole basin earlier.
Boss Qian froze for two seconds. Wasn't this Fang Fulang's son? Why was he calling him boss? And what noodles? Wasn't Fang Fulang selling braised pork intestines?
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