“Last year, a bushel of grain cost four hundred wen; this year, it’s down to two hundred seventy wen.” Lin Dalang sighed as he drove the oxcart.

Lin Erlang: “That’s exactly why we shouldn’t sell any grain—it’d be so much better to keep it for ourselves.”

“Father won’t agree to that.” After saying this, Lin Dalang added, “Mom and Dad are just thinking of us. They say that since we’re splitting up the household, we should sell a little more grain. That way, when we do split up, we’ll have money to buy a courtyard and land, build a house, and cover the costs of food, clothing, and household goods.”

Hearing this, Lin Erlang said enviously, “Third Brother really has it good. He married a good wife and already has twelve taels of silver in his pocket.”

Lin Hu pushed the empty cart, following behind in silence.

What could he say?

“Why bring that up? It’s just that Third Brother’s wife’s family is well-off.” Lin Dalang had just mentioned his second brother; now they were about to stay the night at Third Brother’s wife’s family home, so bringing this up would only upset them.

Lin Erlang chuckled, “I know, I’m just envious. It’s all because Mom and Dad favor Third Brother—they even arranged for him to marry a girl from town.”

Back when Lin Dalang and Lin Erlang were getting married, the Lin family was just getting by and hadn’t saved up much yet. Lin Dalang, in particular, married a girl from a neighboring village. Lin Dalang’s wife came from a poor family and offered little support. By the time it came to Lin Hu, the Lin family had built up their wealth, and it was through a matchmaker’s serendipitous connection that they introduced Tang Qiao to him.

But let’s not dwell on that.

Lin Hu ran the numbers in his head: the family owned a total of twelve mu of farmland. The harvests had been good for the past three years, yielding about 300 jin per mu, which amounted to over 3,600 jin annually. After deducting the 30% grain tax, that left 1,100 jin. His parents were tight-fisted, so they only set aside 1,500 jin of wheat for the family’s daily consumption, leaving 1,000 jin.

In the past two years, grain sold for four hundred wen per dan; selling the entire crop would bring in about forty taels of silver. With a large family and high expenses, they also took on odd jobs on the side for a little extra income, so by the end of the year, they could save at least thirty-five or thirty-six taels.

This year, grain prices haven’t gone up, so they’ll only get about twenty-seven taels of silver.

Besides, over the past few years, their parents have been tight-fisted. Although they did spend some money on building a house, if they were to split the family estate, it certainly wouldn’t be as his eldest brother claims—that they wouldn’t have enough money to buy a courtyard, build a house, or furnish it.

The Lin family was considered a well-off farming household in Linma Village.

If his family were to complain about not being able to make ends meet, how would the rest of the villagers manage? Lin Hu had done the math in his head, but he couldn’t say it outright. He suspected his two older brothers were well aware of the situation—their parents hadn’t hidden the harvest figures or grain sales prices from them.

The two older brothers were bringing this up now partly to lament the low grain prices, and partly to find an excuse to talk about the twelve taels in their household.

Lin Hu had previously agreed with Tang Qiao that if things got too tight, they’d hand over half to the family, but now…

Watching his two older brothers’ backs, he really didn’t want to part with it.

The two older brothers claimed their parents favored him, giving him a good wife and doting on his children. Yes, he’d felt resentful before; whenever the kids bickered or clashed, he’d always take his own children’s side. When it came to farm work, he’d do his best without complaining.

But this trip back with Qiao’s for the funeral had opened his eyes.

He has a younger brother’s respect and devotion for his two older brothers, yet they still feel he’s getting all the advantages. Sigh.

The rift that has formed between the three brothers now seems irreparable. No wonder the elderly couple from the Lin family were the first to advocate for a division of the household—they likely saw through the true nature of their three sons. It’s better to divide the estate now; if they delay it for another two years, by then the three brothers won’t be relatives anymore—they’ll become enemies.

Tang Xianling was unaware that the Lin family’s dispute over dividing the household had been sparked by the twelve taels of silver he’d given his eldest sister. Even if he’d known, he would have retorted with righteous indignation: What does this have to do with him—or his eldest sister?

It must be the accumulated friction from living under the same roof for so many years without dividing the household.

He and Tieniu arrived home.

“Mother, my eldest sister’s husband is coming over shortly.”

Upon hearing this, Jiang Yun was initially delighted. “Why are your eldest sister and the kids coming over now?” But then she realized the city gates were about to close. “Just your brother-in-law? I remember now—the harvest is over, so they must be selling grain right about now.”

“Yes, my brother-in-law and his two older brothers.” Tang Xianling was washing his face; he wiped the water off with a handkerchief, his words a bit muffled.

Huangfu Tieniu unhitched the mule cart. He hadn’t tied up his own mule yet; he was saving the spot in the mule shed for the Lin family’s yellow ox. His own mule knew the place and wouldn’t wander around the courtyard.

“We’re having guests, so I’ll go prepare the guest room.” Jiang Yun went to work.

Tang Xianling: “Mother, just wipe down the bamboo mat—that’ll do for summer.”

His mother was a neat freak. The guest room had previously been occupied by Master Wang, the coachman who had delivered their third sister. After Master Wang left, Mother had tidied it up. She’d taken the thin quilt out of its cover, washed the cover, and had the quilt aired and beaten in the courtyard. Now she just needed to bring that set out.

“I haven’t sewn the quilt cover yet,” Jiang Yun said as she went to find her needle and thread.

Tang Xianling: “Mother, work out here. Just sew a few stitches to mark the position—otherwise it’ll get dark and strain your eyes.” He washed his hands; he still had to cook. It was really getting late today.

It was time for dinner again.

Jiang Yun called out from inside the house, sounding as if she were rummaging through a cupboard for the quilt cover, and said, “There are some vegetables in the kitchen, and a little meat. Just whip up something simple to eat—don’t go to too much trouble.”

“I know.”

Huangfu Tieniu washed his hands and face. Seeing that the water jar at home was empty, he went to fetch some water. Tang Xianling was kneading dough in the kitchen. Since they were just having a simple meal, they’d have steamed buns and noodle soup.

The meat was a piece of pork belly; he washed and chopped a few vegetables.

He mixed the dough with salt water to make it chewy. When letting it rest, he first cut the large block of dough into strips, placed them in a large basin, and covered them with a ladle of cold water—he’d found that letting the dough rest this way made it smooth, chewy, and refreshing to eat.

It would also be easier to pull the noodles later.

Thin, chewy, and smooth.

After Huangfu Tieniu finished drawing water, the water jar was filled to the brim. He set down the bucket and said, “My brother-in-law must be coming from the front. I’ll go up front and let them know it’s easier to use the back alley gate.”

The shops up front now had tables and chairs set out, all tidied up neatly, making it impossible for an oxcart to pass—they’d have to move the furniture, which would be a hassle.

“Go ahead.” While the dough was resting, Tang Xianling began slicing the meat, cutting the pork belly into large, thick slices. He planned to stir-fry the meat first, rendering the lard before adding the vegetables.

Before long, Tieniu returned with his brother-in-law and the Lin brothers, gesturing that entering through the back alley would be easier.

“Did the tenants at the back of the house move out?”

Tieniu gave a noncommittal grunt. “I had them move out as soon as we got back.” He didn’t mention the hassle of lawsuits or compensation for early termination.

“That’s good. The courtyard feels much more spacious now,” Lin Hu said.

Back when his father-in-law was alive—the one who was Wu-ger’s husband—since he was a Xiucai, whenever their family hosted banquets, that Xiucai would look down his nose at him and barely exchange a word. But now, Wu-ger’s new husband—handsome and young—was a man of few words, yet Lin Hu could tell at a glance that he was a down-to-earth sort.

Yet despite being such a down-to-earth fellow, and a hunter by trade, Lin Hu couldn’t help but feel that this man carried himself with more of a master’s air than that so-called Xiucai—a young master, perhaps?

Oh, right—that makes him a young master.

As Lin Hu mused happily to himself, Huangfu Tieniu went home first to open the door and invite the guests inside. “Brother Lin, please lead the ox to the pen to rest; there’s dry hay over there.”

“Mother, my eldest sister’s husband, Brother Lin, and his brothers are here.”

Jiang Yun hurried over to greet the guests, and Tang Xianling also emerged from the kitchen to say hello. Huangfu Tieniu fetched a wooden basin the family rarely used and filled it with water. The Lin brothers politely declined at first, saying things like “We’re imposing on you” and “We’re intruding,” but eventually took turns washing their faces. They poured the used water into the vegetable patch, washing away a layer of dust.

Huangfu Tieniu fetched another basin of water.

“Go ahead and wash up, Brother-in-law.”

Lin Hu grunted in acknowledgment, washed up thoroughly, then greeted his mother-in-law and began talking about family matters—with his older brothers present, he naturally chose to share only the pleasant and appropriate details.

“We’re running a business at home now. Wu-ger works five days and rests two; he’s off today and tomorrow, so it’s a perfect time.” Jiang Yun spoke to her eldest son-in-law, “At the start of the month, you count five days on, then two days off.”

Lin Hu understood immediately. “Mother, I’ve got it. When things settle down at home, I’ll bring Qiao and the kids over—we’ll pick a time when you’re free.”

“It’s not that I’m worried you’ll be a bother. I just thought that with my eldest daughter’s kids here, I’d have some free time to take the little ones for a stroll through the East and West Markets.”

Jiang Yun explained. Since there were outsiders present, she didn’t mention that she currently had a little spare cash and wanted to buy the children some treats.

When Old Tang was alive, whenever the children came over, they could only eat a single bowl of noodles—and even that had to be shared among several kids. She didn’t have much money herself, and if she spent any on anything, Old Tang would ask about it.

Old Tang wasn’t happy about her buying things for her grandsons and granddaughters either.

“A daughter who’s married off is an outsider now. Why should the Tang family spend money on children with a different surname?”

Now that Wu-ger gives her money, he never asks where it goes.

Jiang Yun slept alone. Sometimes she thought about the past, and as she thought, tears would well up. She had been too weak back then; she felt she’d let the children down. Now, Erniang and Sanniang hardly ever came back; only the eldest remained.

Lin Hu listened to his mother-in-law’s long speech; she must have been missing Qiaoniang. He replied, “I know, Mother. I’ll keep that in mind. Once things settle down at home, I’ll definitely bring Qiaoniang and the children over.”

Tieniu came over carrying a teapot and poured cold tea for everyone.

Lin Dalang and Lin Erliang were being polite and well-behaved as guests. When it came to feeding the cattle, they told Tieniu to save some hay; when drinking tea, they praised how delicious it was—at first, they gulped it down like cattle, but after a while, their mouths filled with saliva, and the aftertaste made it seem fragrant.

So they began to praise the tea.

Before they could say another word, they suddenly heard a “sizzle” from the kitchen, followed by the aroma of meat wafting out. Huangfu Tieniu wasn’t in the courtyard entertaining guests—his mother was handling that—so he went into the kitchen, lifted the curtain, and hung it on the wall to let the smoke escape.

“You’re just in time,” Tang Xianling said as he stir-fried the pork belly.

Huangfu Tieniu tilted his head, asking what she wanted.

Tang Xianling: “Hehehe, just to keep me company.”

Huangfu Tieniu couldn’t suppress a smile; he grunted in agreement and sat down in front of the stove to tend the fire. Tang Xianling had everything prepared and didn’t need help at the moment. As he rendered the fat from the pork belly—the noise from the kitchen was loud enough to drown out any conversation in the courtyard—he asked Tieniu, “What did my brother-in-law say?”

“The Lin family came to sell grain, and how cheap the prices are this year, and things like that.” Tieniu replied, asking at the same time, “Should we buy some grain? If I grind it myself, it’ll be much cheaper.”

Tang Xianling wielded his large spatula; the fatty pork belly had rendered its fat until it turned translucent with a hint of char, ready to be served. Shaking his head, he said, “I was tempted by the grain prices when I heard them, but after thinking it over, I decided against it.”

“If we buy unhulled grains, you’ll have to grind and sift them when we get back. I was hoping to relax these two days off. Sure, we’d save over three hundred wen a week on flour, but it would eat into our weekend—we wouldn’t have any time to truly unwind,” Tang Xianling said.

“Besides, the people of Fengyuan City aren’t fools. If grain merchants are squeezing farmers’ prices like this yet still selling to us at the old rates, the residents certainly won’t be happy. I reckon grain prices will drop a bit as well.”

Huangfu Tieniu replied, “In that case, let’s still buy some grain and mix it in half. That way, the grain merchants’ business will suffer, and they’ll realize that suppressing grain prices doesn’t do them any good. Maybe next year, the grain prices will return to normal.”

“I hadn’t thought of that. What you say makes sense. Alright.” Tang Xianling agreed that Tieniu was right.

No wonder the policy emphasizes agriculture over commerce. Although he was a merchant running a small business, what happened today—with the city’s grain merchants banding together to suppress prices—was wrong. They were driving down the prices farmers received while the middlemen raked in extra profits.

These grain merchants were old hands at this. They surely knew that if things went wrong, they’d have to sell to the people of Fengyuan City at slightly lower prices. Yet they were still doing this—it could only be described as testing the waters. After all, when it comes to making money, if the people of Fengyuan City didn’t protest or didn’t make a big fuss, wouldn’t they end up making even more profit in the process?

They were already making a profit of four hundred wen, yet they were still scheming to squeeze the farmers even further.

As Tang Xianling thought this over, he grew increasingly indignant. “Why don’t we just buy all our grain from the village?” he said. “I’ll sort it out little by little later.”

“We still have a mule; let’s get a bigger stone mill.”

“Our courtyard is spacious enough now; we’ll have plenty of room.”

Huangfu Tieniu didn’t mind putting in the effort, but he worried about his husband working too hard. “Let’s buy four or five shi of grain first and sort it out gradually.”

“Alright, if we buy from the farmers, we’ll pay last year’s grain prices.” After Tang Xianling finished speaking, he thought of something: “My brother-in-law’s family has already sold all their grain; it wouldn’t be right to bring this up with the Lin brothers. I hadn’t thought of that.”

Huangfu Tieniu nodded. “Let’s eat first.”

Outside, the three Lin brothers were already ravenous from the aroma wafting in.

The stir-fry was ready, and the rest was simple: boil the broth, tear the noodles into strips, and add the vegetables and seasonings. In no time, the steaming, fragrant noodle soup was ready. Tang Xianling called everyone to eat. Hearing that his brother-in-law and the three brothers hadn’t eaten much all day, he immediately served the noodle soup in the large bowls from his old shop.

It was dark outside, so they lit some candles. The Lin brothers had intended to exchange a few polite words, but the moment they opened their mouths, they were so hungry they nearly drooled, so they immediately wiped their lips.

“Don’t be shy, just eat,” Tang Xianling said.

Only then did the three brothers clutch their bowls and shovel the noodles into their mouths with their chopsticks.

The meal passed without much small talk. By the time the three Lin brothers had slurped down their first bowls, Jiang Yun served them seconds. The second bowls were emptied just as quickly, and eventually, the three brothers finished off everything left in the large pot.

After the meal, the three felt awkward.

“It’s fine. You’ve eaten your fill; get some rest early.”

Jiang Yun said, “The west room is empty. The three of you can squeeze in there, right? There are beds and mats there…”

In the end, the three of them discussed it and decided who would sleep on the bed and who would sleep on the floor.

After washing up and returning to the room to rest, Tang Xianling hugged Tieniu. “Didn’t you eat enough?” His Tieniu usually ate two bowls of rice, but today he’d only had one.

“I’m fine. I’ll eat more tomorrow—my brother-in-law and the others were starving.” Huangfu Tieniu fanned his husband. In this world, his husband was the one who loved and cared for him the most.

Whether big or small, he always had him on his mind.

Tang Xianling: “My brother-in-law and the others are leaving tomorrow, so I won’t cook. I’ll ask the Lu family to pack some meat buns for them then.”

“Alright, I’ll go buy them tomorrow. You get some extra sleep.” Huangfu Tieniu kissed his husband’s forehead, pulled the quilt over him, and tucked him in so he wouldn’t catch a chill.

Tang Xianling: …

On a hot summer night, he still had to be covered with a full quilt.

It was all because the doctor said he had a cold constitution.

“I’m hot,” Tang Xianling squirmed under the covers.

Tieniu chuckled. His husband was just like a child. He patted him gently and coaxed, “You won’t feel hot once you fall asleep. I’ll fan you—it’ll create a breeze.”

As he patted and coaxed him, the breeze from the fan was gentle and cool.

Tang Xianling fell asleep quickly.

Early the next morning, Huangfu Tieniu bought some meat buns, and Jiang Yun cooked a pot of millet porridge. The three brothers felt quite embarrassed; after some polite refusal, they ate breakfast and then set off, driving the ox cart and pushing the empty cart back home.

“We still need to tell Father: prices are low this year. Every grain shop, big and small, in both markets across the city is charging this price—they’re holding firm.”

The Tang family rested for a day. After seeing off the three Lin brothers, Tang Xianling stayed home to make thin, crispy pastries. He prepared one batch himself, then stepped back—he needed his mother to take over. He stood by, experimenting with the ingredient ratios. When his mother’s pastries tasted similar to his own, they knew they’d nailed it.

Since they were switching from egg-stuffed pancakes to fried dough sticks, they could partner with the dough-twisting shop for the crispy pancake step. The shop would fry the dough sticks, so they wouldn’t have to heat their own oil—using ready-made ones was much more convenient.

Regarding the qizi dou from last time, the proportions Tang Xianling used when he made them himself wouldn’t work for ordinary people; the taste would be off, and quite significantly so.

Therefore, repeated experimentation was necessary. As for the five-spice powder, Tang Xianling had Tieniu grind it again—he didn’t want to use the batch he’d prepared himself.

All morning, the Tang family courtyard was filled with the aroma of frying. After a full five attempts, they finally achieved a flavor similar to the crispy wrappers he made.

Then Tang Xianling took these crispy wrappers to the twisted noodle shop to discuss a business deal.

He wanted to place a daily order of fifty crispy snacks with the twisted noodle shop.

The couple running the twisted noodle shop was delighted; this was steady business.

“I’m not sure what kind of crispy snacks you’re looking for,” asked Xu Jia, the shop owner’s wife.

Tang Xianling handed them the basket and invited the couple to taste them. The couple took a bite: the deep-fried strips were square-shaped with a slit down the middle—they looked easy to make. But when they picked one up, it felt cool to the touch. A gentle snap, and it crumbled—so thin and crisp—leaving them amazed.

The twisted snacks were crispy when freshly fried, but the crust softened once they cooled.

“How did you make these?”

“I’ll teach you how to make these thin, crispy snacks—just follow my method,” Tang Xianling said.

Xu Jia was taken aback. “That wouldn’t be right,” she hurriedly explained. “Mr. Tang, you’re still young and sensitive. With such a clever method for making these thin, crispy snacks, aren’t you afraid we’ll steal your recipe and start making them ourselves for breakfast?”

“Don’t worry, it’s fine.”

Tang Xianling said with a smile. He had learned all his cooking methods online; some people had shared their secrets with him, and he had refined traditional techniques himself, along with various little tricks.

He had also learned from others’ wisdom. Now, running a business in the Rong Dynasty’s Fengyuan City to earn a living and support his family, he didn’t aspire to great wealth or prestige—after all, his family ran a small eatery; how rich could they possibly get?

At that moment, Tang Xianling hadn’t even considered becoming the leader of the food industry in Fengyuan City.

Besides, the secret to his family’s jianbing guozi lay in the fact that he made them and the sauces himself!

It was just like in modern times: among so many shops selling guokui, jianbing guozi, and braised chicken, there’s always one that stands out as the tastiest, most reputable, and most authentic.

“This isn’t difficult. If you’re willing to do it, we can sign a contract. Or, if you trust me—since we’re both doing business on the same street—a verbal agreement will do. We’ll settle up daily,” Tang Xianling said.

The couple at the hair-braiding shop exchanged glances and said, “Of course, that’s fine.”

“Then let’s do as Boss Tang says.”

Tang Xianling stayed at the shop for over half an hour. It was now noon, and business was slow. Following Boss Tang’s instructions, the couple kneaded the dough fresh and fried a batch of thin, crispy pancakes—a success on the first try, with a beautiful golden color.

“Then deliver fifty by 11:30 a.m. tomorrow.”

They could have the pastries ready before 8:00 a.m., selling steamed buns first and then making the fried pastries.

This schedule wasn’t too rushed for the couple at the Twisted Dough Shop; it was just right. It was a win-win for both parties. After Mr. Tang left, Xu Jia smiled and said to her husband, “It’s been hot, so fried goods haven’t been selling well, but now things are looking up—we’ll have a steady income every day.”

There were only two shops selling fried goods on the street: theirs and Old Zhao’s sugar-oil pancakes. The couple at the twisted dough shop naturally understood why Mr. Tang chose their shop over Old Zhao’s. In the past, they’d just watched the spectacle, speaking up for Mr. Tang and arguing for fairness. Now that the two shops had business ties, they naturally hoped Mr. Tang’s breakfast sales would go well.

With the deal settled, they held a tasting for the afternoon meal. Tang Xianling’s spare ribs had been revamped into “Fragrant Spare Ribs”—first braised, then deep-fried. This dish relied on precise cooking times and spice ratios; even when eaten cold, the meat remained tender with a crispy exterior. Dipped in a bit of cumin and chili powder—

Hold on. Cumin is expensive, and we don’t have any chili powder.

It’s still delicious even without them.

Another pork dish is braised pork belly. The meat is pork belly, cut into large chunks, blanched, and stir-fried with caramelized sugar. The yellow wine bought yesterday is poured along the edge of the pan, then it’s simmered over low heat. The resulting meat has a bright, glossy red hue, and the sauce is rich and beautiful. When touched with chopsticks, it’s as springy as jelly; the fat isn’t greasy at all, but soft, chewy, and fragrant. Mixing the sauce with rice, you could easily eat two bowls.

At the Lu Family.

Lu Dalang pushed the stone mill, sniffing the air and muttering to himself, “Has the Tang family changed their dinner menu again? Why does it smell so good?”

He’d finally gotten used to the smells of sweet-and-sour spare ribs and other dishes—he wasn’t even that hungry for them anymore—so why had the aroma changed today?

He talked for a while, but when his younger sister didn’t respond, Lu Dalang looked over and said, “You’re not even hungry?”

“Brother, I’m just annoyed.” Ever since the matchmaker had come to their house, Lu Sanniang had lost her appetite. She didn’t know why she felt this way, but the mere mention of it made her irritable.

Lu Dalang chuckled and said, “You, huh? Once the Tang family introduces their new dishes tomorrow, I’ll buy some for you. Will you eat them?” Before she could reply, he added, “The matchmaker is arranging a marriage for Erlang. You’re still young, but eventually, it’ll be your turn after our second brother.”

But once her second brother was married off, it would be her turn sooner or later. She didn’t want to leave home; she didn’t want to leave her parents. Lu Sanniang, feeling gloomy, slipped into the kitchen to cook.

Early the next morning, Huangfu Tieniu went outside the shop to fetch the milk pails and, while he was at it, hung up the sign reading “Open for Business.” People were already waiting outside. Huangfu Tieniu greeted Old Man Cui as he poured the milk.

Cui Dabao yawned deeply, pulled out five wen, and handed them over.

Huangfu Tieniu took the money, exchanged only a few words, and went inside the shop.

“Old Man Cui is first in line today, but he looks really sleepy.”

Tang Xianling replied while kneading the dough, “Old Man Cui didn’t come for the last two days of last week. He’s been saving his energy until now, so he’s definitely up early today—but just wait a bit. Give it ten days or half a month, and the initial buzz will die down. People from the outer districts will stop bothering to get up so early for breakfast. Then Old Man Cui won’t have to rush here like he’s running a race, and he’ll be able to sleep in a bit longer.”

No matter how delicious the breakfast is, if you have to get up early day after day and deal with the crowds, it loses some of its appeal.

Today, they opened for breakfast at the usual time.

Batch after batch of pot-sticker buns went into the oven, and as time passed, more customers began to gather outside.

When the time came, Huangfu Tieniu took out the pot-sticker buns, his mother collected the qian, and Tang Xianling prepared the next batch.

Cui Dabao bought a few flatbreads, yawned as he carried his basket home, and planned to take a nap before coming back later to buy some fried pancakes.

He always had to try the new dishes that Boss Tang came up with.

As for why he was so sleepy, it was because Old Man Cui hadn’t gone to bed early last night.

Just past seven in the morning, Xu Jia arrived with a basket to deliver crispy pancakes. After setting the goods down and collecting qian, she didn’t linger and headed back—business was picking up at her own shop, and her husband couldn’t handle it all by himself.

The Tang family’s pot stickers were nearly sold out.

Tieniu set up the iron griddle and heated it. Tang Xianling had already mixed the batter for the pancakes. Though called “batter,” it was quite thick—almost like dough. Using a tool, he began scraping the dough onto the griddle in a thin layer.

Standard toppings: egg, fruit, shredded potatoes, and a small amount of homemade pickled vegetables.

Tang Xianling cracks an egg, shapes the pancake, quickly flips it, brushes it with sauce, and adds the fried dough sticks, shredded potatoes, and pickled vegetable strips…

“All done.” He folds the pancake and wraps it in greaseproof paper. Tang Xianling hands it to the customer.

Customer: “This pancake with fried dough sticks seems pretty similar to an egg-stuffed pancake.”

Both have eggs and no meat, but this one has extra shredded vegetables and a piece of fruit—deep-fried, which he’d just seen the owner of the noodle shop bring over.

Mr. Tang, looking to cut corners, didn’t even bother frying the fruit himself, saving himself the trouble. This pancake costs the same as the egg-stuffed pancake—six wen—but it’s so much easier. The egg-stuffed pancake even has smoked meat inside.

The customer holding the pancake weighed the pros and cons in his mind, thinking that since Boss Tang’s business was booming, he’d started cutting corners. With that thought, he took a bite. As it entered his mouth, there was first a crisp, crackling sound—the crust was very thin, with the flavor of mixed grains and a distinctive sauce aroma. Unlike the sauce in the egg-stuffed pancake, this one was slightly spicy, with a hint of heat. But how to describe it… he hadn’t had much of an appetite that morning, but that first bite tingled his tongue, making him want to take another big bite.

Unlike the rich, eggy aroma of the egg-stuffed pancake—which is greasy and has a particularly strong egg flavor—this pancake wasn’t oily and was a bit dry. Therefore, one had to savor the aroma of the egg and the pancake dough carefully to gradually detect the egg flavor.

The thin, crispy pastries wrapped inside carry an oily fragrance. If you taste them carefully, they’re nothing like twisted dough at all—the flavor is much more complex, and it’s balanced by the refreshing side dishes.

He savored it carefully. “Mr. Tang, these pastries don’t taste like twisted dough.”

“They aren’t twisted dough. I taught the recipe to the twisted dough shop; this new variety is called ‘Thin Crispy Pastries,’” Tang Xianling explained.

Diner: “?!?”

“You taught your recipe to outsiders?”

“It’s no big deal. Those who love my pastries will always come to my shop to buy them. Even if others have learned the recipe, it doesn’t matter—it just makes things more convenient for everyone,” Tang Xianling said.

Cui Dabao hurried over and happened to overhear Mr. Tang’s words. Unlike the others, who were just paying lip service, he knew Mr. Tang was being sincere, and he was instantly filled with admiration.

Mr. Tang really has a big heart.

The customers waiting in line were surprised and impressed by what they heard, and some even began to get ideas…

Those who were scheming were naturally in the food stall business. Having recently heard that Brother Tang’s breakfast was selling well, they wanted to buy some to try, intending to replicate it later. If it wasn’t too difficult, they could make it and sell it themselves.

These few were a bit too eager to “steal” the recipe, fearing they might be recognized and then publicly accused of stealing the trade secrets. They never expected Mr. Tang to say such a thing.