News travels these days slowly, relying on word of mouth, but major or sensational events tend to linger in people’s minds for a long time. Take, for instance, the story of Brother Tang’s lawsuit—it’s still a hot topic, though not quite as sensational as it was at first.

Customers who have eaten at Brother Tang’s restaurant or bought breakfast there—whether they’re just getting by or come from well-to-do families—have all raved about the food.

So while word of mouth has made the popularity of the play “Tang Wu-ger Sues the Official” wane a bit, the real-life Tang Wu-ger’s Restaurant still holds its own. It’s just that business is so good here—getting up early for breakfast is too tiring, and for dinner they serve “boxed meal sets.” It’s fine for an occasional meal, but it’s just a small eatery and mostly sells pork dishes…

Diners might casually dismiss it with a shrug, but their feet tell a different story. Forget about whether the meat is cheap or not—it’s genuinely delicious.

A new stall in Changkang Lane sells pot-sticker buns filled with preserved mustard greens and pork for four wen each, and red bean paste ones for three wen each—both a wen cheaper than at Brother Tang’s, attracting plenty of customers who crave pot-sticker buns but can’t be bothered to get up early.

By the time Tang Xianling heard about it, the little stall had actually been open for several days. Old Man Cui found out a few days later as well.

Word was that business was booming—they’d sell out by mid-morning, and if you arrived late, there was nothing left.

Tang Xianling wasn’t particularly worried about this. He’d already anticipated that others would eventually start making them too—after all, it wasn’t exactly difficult. A few days later, not only did Changkang Lane see the addition of pickled radish and pork pot-buns, but other lanes began selling pork floss bread as well.

Old Man Cui had tried them too.

Sun Douzi came to buy yogurt and took the opportunity to share some news with Boss Tang: “…They’re selling them for five wen each over there. Dabao was curious and bought one to try. But the pork floss bread isn’t as good as Boss Tang’s. You can put your mind at ease.”

“Thank you.” Tang Xianling chuckled, handing the prepared yogurt to Douzi. “This is on me. I’ll have your takeout packed up for you in a moment.”

Sun Douzi waved his hand to decline, but Tang Xianling smiled warmly: “We’re old friends—why be so formal and refuse? You came all the way here today just to tell me this out of the blue—it’s a kind gesture.”

“Let’s eat together.” Tang Xianling had a bowl in his hand as well. He’d bought some wild grapes from a street vendor that morning.

The little grapes were about the size of a fingernail, plump and round, with deep purple skins. He picked one to taste—it was as sweet as syrup.

Tang Xianling spent five wen to buy the small basket of wild grapes from the child’s hands.

Han Kai, a vegetable vendor nearby, saw this and chuckled, “These wild grapes are what the little ones find on the slopes by the fields—just berries to satisfy a child’s sweet tooth. It’s quite a feat to have gathered a whole basketful.”

While the adults set up their vegetable stalls, the little boy carried a small basket lined with soft straw, carefully arranging the berries he’d picked inside. For that tiny basket, five wen—people asked about it, but no one bought it, thinking it wasn’t worth the price.

Tang Xianling didn’t haggle; he bought them outright, which made the child quite happy. He was happy too.

Han Kai remarked that the fruit was little better than wild greens, implying it was overpriced. But upon closer inspection, he realized they were currently short on jam. Since he’d come across it just when he was craving some, five wen wasn’t too much to pay. Tang Xianling took it home, washed it thoroughly, and simmered it into grape jam. Though it only vaguely resembled grapes, the texture was sweeter and more cloying.

Now, mixed with yogurt and sprinkled with raisins and crushed peanuts, the yogurt turned a pale rose color. Tang Xianling scooped a spoonful into his mouth and raised an eyebrow.

“Delicious.”

“You should try some,” Tang Xianling said to Douzi.

Sun Douzi, being a bit more reserved, scooped a spoonful. As he tasted it, his eyes crinkled with delight, and he turned to look at Master Tang. “Everything you make is delicious. It’s really good.” 

“Of course it is.” Tang Xianling turned and called out to his mother and Tieniu, urging them to stop working and eat.

The two replied.

Tang Xianling chatted with Douzi while leaning on the railing of the veranda. His speech was a bit slurred from eating yogurt. “With a market this big, it’s only natural that others would jump on the bandwagon and start selling pork floss bread and pickled mustard greens pot stickers.”

“You’re so generous,” said Sun Douzi. After a moment, he added, looking particularly embarrassed, “Over on Main Street, the Old Zhaos are always badmouthing you. I’ve overheard them twice while I was buying groceries.”

Tang Xianling curled his lip. “That’s normal. The whole family is petty.”

Sun Douzi had initially felt a bit guilty about gossiping behind others’ backs—it felt like he was tattling to Boss Tang. But when Boss Tang spoke of the Old Zhaos that way, he didn’t scold him for gossiping. Sun Douzi breathed a slight sigh of relief and even felt a little pleased.

It felt as though he and Boss Tang had grown closer.

“Their kid’s a pain, too.” Sun Douzi didn’t like Old Zhao’s son. “Once when he saw me, he called me a beggar from the village.”

Tang Xianling: “??? That’s ridiculous. Isn’t Zhao Dalang’s younger brother from the village? Besides, whether you’re from the city or the village, everyone’s just trying to make a living—it’s just a matter of different methods.”

In the countryside, we rely on the sky and the crops; we sow diligently and reap a solid harvest. In the city, people sell their labor, skills, and services—every kind of work under the sun. Why should ordinary people make life hard for other ordinary people?

Tang Xianling patted Douzi on the shoulder.“Don’t take it to heart. His parents are no good—they’ve led the child astray. When they’re old, they’ll have only themselves to blame.”

“I know. I’d only just married Dabao back then, and to be honest, I felt a bit guilty—my family’s circumstances weren’t great…”

Sun Douzi said softly, explaining. His parents had died young. At first, his brother and sister-in-law treated him decently, but as time went on, they grew annoyed with him. The family was struggling financially; an extra mouth to feed meant more expenses everywhere, so naturally, they prioritized their own flesh and blood and began to treat him harshly.

Later, when he married Dabao, the villagers all said he was lucky to have married into a wealthy family in the city.

The neighbors in Baxing District looked at him with curiosity, disdain, and contempt, though everyone put on a polite facade. That time, he went to the market to buy vegetables, but the child called him a beggar from the countryside who knew nothing and was timid and cowering.

When Sun Douzi heard this, he wanted to sink into the ground right then and there; it was unbearable.

“…Of course, I don’t think that way now. Back then—”

“It’s not your fault, whether then or now. It’s that brat from the Zhao family who has a sharp tongue.” Tang Xianling could be quite sharp-tongued when he wanted to be. “I’ve never met that kid, but if he ever crossed me, I’d twist his face!”

Sun Douzi: “Their family will make a fuss.”

“Let them make a fuss then.” Tang Xianling didn’t care. “We’ve got a strapping fellow like Tieniu in our family now!”

Huangfu Tieniu was standing nearby. Hearing what they were discussing, he gave a soft “Hmm.” Even Jiang Yun, who was usually as timid as a pumpkin, nodded in agreement. She’d been learning from Xiangping for a few days now; it seemed her skills would finally come in handy.

Seeing that Mr. Tang and his family were really about to confront the Zhaos again, Sun Douzi got scared and quickly changed the subject, saying, “Your yogurt is really delicious. I could eat it every day and never get tired of it. But to be honest, I still prefer the plain, tangy kind—this one gets a little too sweet toward the end.”

“Sweet? It’s fine.” Tang Xianling thought it was just right, but then he realized Douzi probably didn’t like sweets. “I’ll get you the plain kind. Would you like some chopped nuts?”

“Yes!” Sun Douzi thought it would be even better with chopped nuts. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Tang Xianling glanced at Douzi, as if noticing something for the first time, and said, “You seem to have filled out a bit— your cheeks even look a little chubby.”

When he first met Douzi, he had the opposite complexion as his husband. Old Man Cui was plump and fair-skinned, but now the two of them seemed to have switched places. Old Man Cui appeared to have lost his appetite during the summer, losing a bit of weight and tanning slightly, while Douzi had actually gotten a bit fairer, with a rounder face and a few extra pounds.

Sun Douzi touched his cheek. “Really? I’ve definitely had a good appetite these past few days.” 

He gave a shy little smile. “I used to think I wasn’t a big eater—just enough to fill my stomach was fine. But then Dabao started buying your breakfast every day, so I started eating it too. It really is delicious.”

“Now he even brings home some dinner every now and then, along with the two dishes I make. It’s hot out, and Dabao can’t stomach much meat because of the summer heat, but everyone in my family cleans their plates. I used to get an upset stomach whenever I ate meat, but that doesn’t happen anymore.”

With such a hearty appetite, plus meat and milk, it’s no wonder he’s put on some weight.

Tang Xianling took a good look at him. “You look so lovely now. You used to be too thin. Gaining another ten or twenty jin of weight.wouldn’t hurt.” Douzi used to be so, so thin.

“But being too fat isn’t good either,” Sun Douzi said, a bit bashfully. “I’m afraid Dabao won’t like it.”

Tang Xianling chuckled, not to mock him. “Then ask your Da Bao—does he prefer you skinny or plump? Maybe he actually likes you a little plumper.”

Mr. Tang kept mentioning “love” and “your Da Bao” as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Hearing this, Sun Douzi’s face flushed crimson, and, too embarrassed to stay any longer, he grabbed his bamboo tube of yogurt and headed back home.

He liked coming here to chat with Boss Tang, but what Boss Tang said made him feel shy.

Oh my.

Tang Xianling walked him to the gate of the courtyard and teased her playfully, “Remember to ask him when you get home. Next time we meet, you have to tell me the answer.” 

Sun Douzi:!

Seeing Douzi’s hurried retreating figure, Tang Xianling couldn’t help but chuckle to himself: Surely he didn’t scare Douzi so much that he wouldn’t dare come play with him anymore? No way.

But he really enjoyed teasing Sun Fulang; Sun Fulang was a young man with a bright, open heart, and he was fun to tease.

After seeing Douzi off, Lu Sanniang from next door came over to visit. The Tang family shop was closed for the day, but it had been quite a while since Lu Sanniang had dropped by. Tang Xianling was actually surprised to see her and invited her in to sit down.

Lu Sanniang held a plate of flower-shaped buns in her hands; the buns were beautifully shaped, all in the form of flowers. Lu Sanniang said, “My mother sent me to bring you some flower buns.”

Tang Xianling wondered if there was a festival coming up. These flower buns were clearly crafted with great care; not only were the shapes exquisite, but they were also beautifully colored. In the courtyard, Jiang Yun stepped forward and asked, “Is your older brother’s special day coming up soon?”

“Yes, Auntie. It’s in eight days. Today I made these flower buns to send over to my sister-in-law’s family,” Lu Sanniang replied. Tang Xianling turned to ask his mother, “What kind of custom is this?”

“It’s an old custom in Fengyuan City. A few days before the wedding, if the bride’s family has brothers, they send flower buns. It signifies, ‘We’re about to welcome your daughter into our family.’ Since your family no longer has daughters, sending these flower buns to the bride’s brothers is also a way of showing respect for her,” Jiang Yun explained in detail.

Huangfu Tieniu looked down at her husband. “Do you want some flower buns?”

Tang Xianling: … (nudging him with his elbow) “I think you look just like a flower bun!”

Huangfu Tieniu was poked in the stomach, but he was delighted, taking it as a sweet treat. Seeing Tieniu’s expression, Tang Xianling snorted and said, “If we’re talking about giving flower buns, then I’m the one who should be giving them to you. You’ve been lured into my home now. Next week, when we go back to the village, I’ll send some flower buns to Uncle Zhang.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” Jiang Yun said, her smile freezing on her face.

Huangfu Tieniu, however, readily agreed, without a hint of hesitation.

Jiang Yun said, “Wu-ger is just talking nonsense. You’re married to Tieniu—even though we live in the city, we can’t just act so recklessly.” She was afraid that Tieniu, being a man of pride, wouldn’t appreciate hearing such words.

“Mother, Tieniu wouldn’t think that way.”

“Mom, Xianling is just teasing me,” Huangfu Tieniu said, then asked, “So when we go back next week, will you buy me some flower buns?”

Tang Xianling: “…Sure, sure, I’ll go to Third Sister’s house right now, ask how to make those flower buns, and order a batch for my Tieniu.”

“Deal.” Huangfu Tieniu agreed readily.

Tang Xianling: “I’ll order you a leaf-shaped one.” “That’s fine.”

While the two of them were bantering back and forth, Jiang Yun had already calmed down from her earlier state of hyperalertness. How could these two kids find something like this so amusing? Most men would find the term “son-in-law by marriage” offensive, but Tieniu didn’t seem to mind. For now, he followed Sanniang to thank her, then took the buns and put them in the kitchen.

Tang Xianling called out to Sanniang, asking if she wanted to go back, and said, “The two of us will come to your place—”

“Wu-ger, are you really going to order flower buns for Brother Tieniu?” Lu Sanniang’s eyes sparkled with curiosity; she didn’t show the slightest disapproval of Wu-ger’s departure from custom. Before Tang Xianling could speak, Huangfu Tieniu nodded. “My husband’s word is his bond.”

“Then there’s no turning back now,” Tang Xianling added.

Lu Sanniang didn’t understand the back-and-forth, but she could tell that Wu-ger and Brother Tieniu were incredibly close. She envied them from the bottom of her heart; at that moment, she didn’t even mind getting married.

She happily agreed, “I’ll go, I’ll go. Let’s go together.”

“You two go ahead,” Jiang Yun said. She decided not to go, choosing instead to stay home and sew some small garments for her second daughter’s child. She hurried with her needlework, planning to have Tieniu deliver them to the inn’s messenger tomorrow. She scolded Wu-ger playfully, “That boy talks nonsense, and Tieniu just lets him get away with it.”

Not only was Tieniu patient with Wu-ger, but he didn’t put on airs either.

She recalled a time when Erniang and her husband had returned and stayed overnight at home. Second Son-in-Law had Erniang attend to him for everything—from eating to washing his hands—just like Old Tang. As Jiang Yun thought of this, the needle in her hand pricked her skin. The pain made her gasp; she looked down to see a drop of blood forming on her fingertip.

Jiang Yun sucked on her finger, staring blankly at it for a moment, her heart filled with panic and fear.

“It’s nothing, it’s nothing. I must be imagining things.”

Next door at the Lu household.

Tang Xianling was praising the flower-patterned buns, exchanging pleasantries—though not too insincere, since the Lu family truly had a knack for making buns. “…I never expected such skill; you could even sell these.”

“Sell them? That’s too much trouble. Who cares about the flower designs when eating steamed buns?” Chen Qiaolian laughed.

Seeing that Aunt Chen hadn’t caught the meaning behind his words, Tang Xianling explained, “I mean, in Fengyuan City, when a man marries a young lady, he needs to make and present flower-shaped buns—this is a business transaction, not just for everyday eating.”

“This?” Chen Qiaolian hadn’t considered that angle. “Making steamed buns isn’t difficult; every household in the city knows how to do it.” 

“But ones as beautiful as the ones your family makes are probably quite rare,” Tang Xianling said.

Flattered by the compliment, Chen Qiaolian smiled broadly, not taking Brother Tang’s “business advice” to heart. She replied, “Actually, it’s not difficult—it just takes a bit of effort.”

“Auntie, how much do you sell your flower buns for? I’d like to place an order—following the custom of giving them to a bride’s family—how many should I have made?”

Chen Qiaolian was puzzled. “Why do you need them?” 

Wu-ger has already gotten married.

Tang Xianling replied with conviction, “I’m going back to the village next week to take some flower buns to Tieniu’s Uncle’s house.” 

“Right, right,” Huangfu Tieniu chuckled.

Chen Qiaolian:! 

She was so startled that she was speechless, completely dumbfounded.

It wasn’t just Chen Qiaolian—even Lu Dalang, who was grinding grain in the courtyard, stopped his work and looked over in shock.

“This… this isn’t appropriate, is it?” Chen Qiaolian glanced at Tieniu and gave Wu-ger a meaningful look.

Huangfu Tieniu laughed first. “This is a sign that my husband, Tang Xianling, values me. Just go ahead and make them, Auntie. I’d love to have them.” That’s right~ Tang Xianling nodded.

Finally, Chen Qiaolian agreed, though she seemed a bit dazed. “I’ll send as many as there are people in your household. Most are lotus-shaped, and there are also water lily designs. If you’d like, I can also send some peony-shaped ones.”

“Then four buns for my godfather, Uncle Zhang, Uncle Wang, and Hainiu—four buns, three flowers, and a leaf. Any kind of leaf will do.” Tang Xianling finally settled on the order. With family matters this week, he and Tieniu planned to return to the village next week, stay overnight, and visit his godfather’s grave in the mountains.

“We’ll bring the flower buns then.”

Tang Xianling asked Aunt Chen how much they cost.

Chen Qiaolian had never sold these before, so she calculated the cost of the flour and other ingredients and charged six wen for the four flower buns. Tang Xianling: ???

“These flower buns are bigger than regular steamed buns—” Chen Qiaolian tried to explain.

Tang Xianling: “Auntie, I’m not saying it’s too expensive. I’m saying you’re asking for too little. The intricate designs on these buns clearly show they were made with great care; you shouldn’t be selling them for the price of regular steamed buns.”

“Then how much should I charge?” Chen Qiaolian was genuinely confused; her family’s business had always been known for its low prices.

Tang Xianling: “You’re asking me to set my own price?”

“I’d say ten wen per bun—”

“No way, how could they be that expensive?” Chen Qiaolian gasped, and Lu Dalang beside her also chimed in, saying it wouldn’t do. Chen Qiaolian: “We’re neighbors—how could I be so heartless as to ask you for that price? If people find out—”

“If people find out, and then Auntie can sell the same style, let’s make it thirty wen.” Tang Xianling counted the money, saying as he counted, “With your family’s craftsmanship, you could really make a go of this business. Even if you don’t sell them every day, whenever a family in town needs custom flower buns for a wedding, they’ll come to you to order them—that’s extra income.”

They’re made like works of art; it’s only natural to charge a bit more.

Besides, the Lu family already has the steamer and the flour for the buns ready to go.

Tang Xianling handed the money to his aunt. “We’re not in a rush to get them. Next Friday—”

“That’ll be six days from now,” Huangfu Tieniu calculated the date and told the aunt.

Tang Xianling: “Right, right, right.”

Finally, the couple stepped out of the Lu family courtyard. Chen Qiaolian still felt a bit dazed as she held the heavy handful of copper coins in her palm. Thirty wen for just four buns? Though these flower-shaped buns were a bit larger than ordinary steamed buns, they were still just steamed buns.

“Why don’t I take the money back?” Lu Dalang asked his mother.

Chen Qiaolian was both shocked and moved by the money, yet also felt a bit embarrassed. Just then, Lu Sanniang chimed in, “Big Brother, Mother, I think Wu-ger makes sense. Mother spent half the day making these flower buns—shaping and rolling them until they looked so pretty. We can’t just sell them for the price of regular buns.”

“Wu-ger’s business is thriving; we should listen to him.”

“If we’re going to sell decorative buns, there are already ‘Child-Giving’ buns and ‘Full-Moon Banquet’ buns in Fengyuan City…”

Lu Sanniang counted them off on her fingers, her eyes gradually brightening. “The business Wu-ger is talking about—we can do that.”

Chen Qiaolian: “Don’t go down that crooked path—we’re a proper steamed bun shop.”

“Mother, flower buns are still buns—how can that be considered a shady business? Even if no customers order them, it won’t affect our bun-making.” Lu Sanniang retorted.

Chen Qiaolian felt a twinge of temptation, especially with that heavy wad of cash still clenched in her palm. She said, “All right, you’re just a child. Don’t get too caught up in business. A young lady should be demure and hardworking. Let the men of the family handle the business.”

Lu Sanniang pouted. She didn’t know why, but she didn’t like hearing her mother say that. Let her older brother speak up, then. Hmph.

Seeing his sister’s displeasure, Lu Dalang smiled and tried to smooth things over. “I think it’s fine. Let’s give it a try. When Mother finishes making them, we’ll put them out front. If any customers ask, we’ll just tell them.”

“How should we set the price?” Chen Qiaolian asked.

Lu Dalang replied, “We can’t charge less than what Mr. Tang paid us today.”

Chen Qiaolian gasped—that was too expensive, and she didn’t even know if they could sell them. But she wanted to give it a try, so she

said, “Then eight wen per flower bun.”

“If they’re more elaborate, we can charge even more,” Lu Sanniang couldn’t help but interject, only to have her older brother slap

her on the head. Clutching her head, she huffed, “Fine, fine. I won’t say another word. You two figure it out.”

“You silly girl, your older brother is just looking out for you.” Chen Qiaolian sighed as she watched her daughter stomp off into the kitchen

in a huff. The older the child gets, the worse her temper becomes—it’s hard

to say.

Tang Xianling’s playful gesture of teasing Tieniu into ordering flower buns had inadvertently brought the Lu family’s bun shop another source of business.

The next day, his mother packed the little clothes she’d made for her second sister’s child, along with a piece of fine cloth and a

letter, into a bundle. Tieniu rode his mule to deliver it to a merchant in Cui Lin Town.

“This Mr. Feng can read. After taking the bundle, he said that if he ever comes back, he’ll definitely stop by our house, so we can all rest easy,” Tieniu told his mother.

Jiang Yun nodded repeatedly.

Tang Xianling made “chili seasoning” at home. He dried the pepper thoroughly, then ground it into a powder using a small mortar and pestle. He added dried cumin seeds, Sichuan peppercorns, and salt, and finished it off with a sprinkle of white sesame

seeds for extra flavor. He ended up with a full bowl of the mixture.

Mother cut out oil-paper wrappers, planning to package two spoonfuls of the powder per packet and sell them for ten wen.

“Will this actually sell?” Jiang Yun thought the price was high, but since spices were expensive, she couldn’t say Wu-ger had set the price too high—the costs were just that high. She was simply worried it wouldn’t sell.

“Of course it will. Last week, lots of spicy food lovers asked about it,” Tang Xianling said, continuing to work while speaking to his mother. “Don’t worry. Niche customers have strong purchasing power.”

After all, once this opportunity passes, it won’t come around again.

Jiang Yun didn’t get it; Wu-ger was being witty again.

Huangfu Tieniu was operating the stone mill under the shed, grinding the wheat they’d bought into flour. It still needed to be sifted again; the resulting flour wasn’t snow-white, but had a faint yellowish tint and was very fine.

As soon as Tang Xianling saw it, he said, “This bag of flour isn’t for selling—it’s for us to eat.”

This was flour ground for him by his very own Tieniu—that handsome young man with muscles glistening in the sunlight! Watching Tang Xianling work was a real treat for the eyes; he could banter with his mother while admiring the handsome man. Heh heh heh.

Tieniu’s good looks were undeniable!

Even on weekends, the family didn’t just sit around doing nothing; they chatted idly while working, which was actually quite fun.

After the weekend, sales of the pot-sticker buns from Changkang Lane were a huge hit last week, and with the competition from the pork floss bread in other lanes, Tang Xianling’s breakfast business was actually affected a little bit.

Although they still sell out our daily stock, it’s not as “frantic” as usual.

Before they opened the shop door, customers would line up outside to wait; now there aren’t many. They used to open around 6:30 a.m. and close after 9:00 a.m., but now they can sell until 10:00 a.m.

Tang Xianling felt there was a difference, but not a particularly big one. If things didn’t work out, he could just cut back on the stock—after all, his family’s dinner-boxed meal business was doing well, and that was the main source of income for the household.

Since his business wasn’t “as good as before,” the Zhao family caused quite a stir on the street last week—Douzi mentioned it once. Actually, when Tang Xianling went to buy lunch, he ran into Mrs. Zhao, who was standing outside chatting with someone and badmouthing his business behind his back.

Of course, the moment she saw him, she got a little scared, stopped talking, and just turned on her heel and walked away with her nose in the air. 

Tang Xianling:… 

The others in the shop tried to smooth things over, telling him to let it go, not to sweat the old lady, especially on such a hot day.

Tang Xianling：？

In the eyes of the neighborhood, he had truly become a hot-tempered brute who would fly into a rage at the slightest provocation.

Punching men, kicking women, and children.

It’s not that bad, it’s not that bad. Tang Xianling: “I wasn’t angry.” But when he saw the disbelief on everyone’s faces, he turned around, grabbed the food box, and went to complain to Tieniu and his mother.

“I’m such a kind and good-natured person!” boasted Big Boss Tang.

Jiang Yun hesitated for a moment, not sure what to say. Had Wu-ger gotten sunstroke? Why was he talking such nonsense? Huangfu Tieniu, oblivious to the absurdity, replied sincerely, “That’s right. You have a great temperament and a kind heart.”

“That’s for sure.”

Jiang Yun: …Has Tieniu gotten sunstroke too? Why are they both talking nonsense now?

That’s how the week passed. Behind closed doors, the Old Zhao family was in high spirits. Every day at the dinner table, they used the Tang family’s declining business as a topic of conversation to spice up their meals; the whole family could eat an extra two bowls of rice. When the children returned from Erlang’s Village, hearing the adults talk about such misfortunes, they joined in, spitting and cursing the Tang family.

The weekend passed, and by Monday, business at the Tang family’s shop was booming again.

The Old Zhao family:?

“Why are customers lining up at their place again? And so early in the morning?”

Customers outside the shop: “It’s just like Old Man Cui said—once you’ve eaten Mr. Tang’s pancakes, the others taste like pig feed.”

“Actually, it’s not that bad, but I feel like I got ripped off for that extra wen—it just didn’t hit the spot.”

“Don’t even get me started. That pork floss bread I had was awful—nothing like Mr. Tang’s. It was all milky and salty, and it made me feel sick.”

“Mr. Tang’s pork floss bread has a milky, salty, and meaty flavor, but it’s just so delicious.”

“With bread this bad, the people at that shop act as if they’ve never had good bread before—they were fighting over it. I gave them a good ribbing.”

Today, it’s not just the regulars; in a few days, there’ll be newcomers lining up to buy breakfast.

Gai En: “You actually think this stuff tastes good? That’s because you’ve never had the real thing. Where can you find the real thing? At Brother Tang’s breakfast stall in Baxing District—oh, wait, they’ve renamed it Brother Tang’s Restaurant now…”

It was a stroke of luck—another round of free publicity.

They’re not afraid of competitors; they’re only afraid of being compared. Even though it’s one wen more expensive, the taste is worth far more than one wen. Regulars who’ve tried other places come back and realize: Boss Tang’s place is truly a great value and delicious.