“Boss Tang, someone’s here again. They’re asking what that aroma was that drifted into the backyard earlier—the customer wants to order it.” A-Liang hurried into the backyard to relay the message. 

Tang Xianling:? 

He looked up at the sky. It must be nearly three o’clock by now. Are people still coming in after lunchtime?

“Did you tell them? Fried rice.”

A-Liang nodded. “I did. The customer asked if we could sell it.” 

Tang Xianling: “…How many customers?”

A-Liang said four. Tang Xianling made the call: since there was still some left in the wok, he’d send it all out. It was just a “mishmash” anyway—he’d thrown everything in there and stir-fried it. 

At this hour, he couldn’t take on any more customers; he needed to start preparing for the afternoon meal, and there was still that order for grilled skewers to handle later.

He feared he wouldn’t have time to cook another dish.

“Serve it up. Just tell them it’s not much, but it’s on the house,” Tang Xianling said.

Aunt Tong ate very quickly; she’d just finished and was about to leave when A-Liang hadn’t eaten yet, so A-Liang took her place at the table.

“No problem, I’ll go.” A-Liang went into the kitchen and started serving the rice.

There was no one out front, so Huangfu Tieniu went out to keep an eye on things. He had finished eating too, so he told Xianling to take his time. Before long, Huangfu Tieniu came back in. As soon as Tang Xianling saw the look on Tieniu’s face, his heart skipped a beat. With a mix of sweet worry, he asked, “Is it happening again?”

Huangfu Tieniu nodded and cut straight to the point: “The shop’s almost full.” 

“????”

Tang Xianling: “!!!’

He asked the burning question: “Why?” It was well past mealtime.

Huangfu Tieniu gave the answer: “The customers say that although Boss Tang’s shop has been converted into a restaurant, they’re used to coming for their evening meal. They’re afraid of making a wasted trip if it’s not open in the morning, so they’re lining up and waiting at this hour.”

Tang Xianling was dazed.

“We can’t keep this up. If we take more orders, we won’t have enough ingredients left for the evening meal.”

“Don’t worry. The customers who just arrived aren’t actually hungry yet; they’re just craving something after smelling the aroma.” Huangfu Tieniu reassured his husband not to fret too much. “But I think we’ll need to buy two more ducks.”

Tang Xianling: …You’re right.

“Here’s what we’ll do: send out the stir-fried rice from the kitchen first. For those four we just served, I’ll brew some herbal tea to go with it and send it out shortly. We’ve also got edamame. I’ll prepare the pumpkin chicken strips I promised and send those over too. Have everyone sit down and rest for a bit.” Tang Xianling quickly came up with a plan. “I’ll go tell them.”

Huangfu Tieniu nodded and followed his husband.

“Mother, you, Sister Tong, and A-Liang should all eat. After you finish, have a drink of water, do whatever you need to do, and rest for a bit. There’s no rush.” Tang Xianling took a few steps before turning back.

Jiang Yun knew she had every reason to be anxious; more guests were on their way. But Wu-ger was different from Old Tang—back then, Old Tang would be more anxious than anyone else when he saw guests; he wouldn’t let her or her three daughters sit idle, keeping them running around with their own tasks.

But Wu-ger was fine with working a bit longer himself; Mrs. Tong’s and A-Liang, who had come to help at home, as well as Old Man Cui, who had stayed to work through the afternoon, all needed a break. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll handle it.” Jiang Yun held Mrs. Tong back. 

“You and A-Liang listen to Wu-ger—especially A-Liang. Hurry up and eat, and hand me the tray.” 

A-Liang: “I’m not hungry. I’ll just bring the food.”

“There’s always another round to serve—it’s never-ending. Look at the time—you need to sit down and eat right now. Don’t let yourself get sick from hunger.” Jiang Yun had nearly finished her meal; she took the tray from A-Liang’s hands and headed to the front.

Sure enough, she was swamped with work as soon as she got there.

Aunt Tong wiped her mouth, washed her hands, put on an apron, and headed to the front. A-Liang sat down to eat, shoveling food into his mouth as if he were shoveling dirt; he barely chewed before swallowing. As soon as he finished, he jumped up to help out.

Tang Xianling watched with a frown. He thought he had some experience running a shop, but he hadn’t expected business to be this brisk on opening day. His employees had eaten breakfast early in the morning and worked nonstop until two or three in the afternoon, starving until then without even a moment to rest or take a sip of water.

This simply wouldn’t do.

And the same goes for his own family.

“It’s always like this when we first open. We haven’t done business for a month, so the customers are all ravenous—that’s why it’s so crowded.” Huangfu Tieniu could tell from his husband’s grim expression exactly what Xianling was thinking, so he spoke up to comfort him, adding, “If it doesn’t work out, we’ll hire two more temporary helpers to clean up.”

Tang Xianling nodded upon hearing this.

But as he got busy, swinging the wok, he thought: Tieniu’s words just now sounded familiar. A little while later, the salted egg yolk-baked pumpkin chicken strips were ready.

Aunt Tong and A-Liang went to the front to serve the food, bring tea, and pour water.

Tang Xianling suddenly remembered: Back when he first opened the breakfast shop, he’d told his mother that even though there were a lot of people now, once the novelty wore off, business would settle into a steady period.

Logically, that should be the case, but his business was different. If it weren’t for the “imitators” popping up in other neighborhoods, people would still be lining up for breakfast—there hasn’t been a single dip in business. Could it be that it’ll take a year or two for things to settle down?

Did that mean his restaurant would remain this busy for another year or two?

Tang Xianling didn’t want to speak insincerely—saying he didn’t want all this hard work or so many customers. He wasn’t crazy; this was a sweet problem. Once he solved this “problem,” wouldn’t that leave only the sweetness?

He thought about it, then decided to open at 10 a.m.

Mealtimes for the common folk back then were nothing like they are today. Some people were used to combining breakfast and lunch into one meal, so by the time the main dishes were served today, it was already 11:00 a.m. If he opened an hour earlier, the regulars who came early could eat first.

The busiest part of the day is over.

Tang Xianling decided not to hire any more general helpers; instead, he would find a kitchen assistant—someone with basic knife skills, capable of preparing simple dishes and prepping ingredients, who could understand his instructions on what to do and how to do it, and who was smart and quick-witted.

This assistant could prepare a separate pot of rice at lunchtime specifically for the family and staff, allowing him to take a short break and focus more energy on serving customers.

As for the staff, they would eat in shifts whenever they had a moment, but they had to take a half-hour break to rest.

They could rest a bit in the afternoon when it’s less busy.

Tang Xianling finished stir-frying the complimentary vegetables. Although the front shop was packed with people, no one was placing orders—Mr. Tang had just explained that they were preparing ingredients for the evening meal and would reopen in half an hour. For now, the diners in the shop were gathered around a dish of edamame, a cup of iced tea, and a plate of baked pumpkin, eating and chatting.

“This pumpkin is delicious.”

“I heard the complimentary dishes today are delicious.” 

“And the chicken, too.”

“Good thing we got here early. We’ll order first thing when they reopen, and get some meat skewers too.”

“Mr. Tang has really done a great job with this place.” Someone walked around and took a liking to the “private room” enclosed by bamboo. He’d heard you could sit there if you spent at least 100 wen—how simple. Someday, he’d invite a few friends here for a meal.

The backyard was bustling again.

Huangfu Tieniu had gone to buy meat and came back carrying two ducks. Without a moment’s rest, he set about slaughtering and butchering them. These days, most diners ordered half a duck, wanting to try other dishes as well; a whole duck was a bit too much and too expensive.

A whole duck cost sixty-eight wen per clay pot, while half a duck was thirty-five wen.

Over on Tang Xianling’s side, Jiang Yun, Sister Tong, and A-Liang all pitched in. Tang Xianling cut the meat into even pieces, and the three of them stood by the cutting board in the kitchen, skewering the meat on bamboo sticks. In no time, they had a whole bunch of them. Tang Xianling estimated the amount and decided to prepare a bit extra today.

They spent a full hour skewering the meat.

Tang Xianling stretched his wrists, just as his mother asked, “Is it time yet?” meaning it was time to open for business.

Tang Xianling: …Ah, what a sweet dilemma!

The barbecue grill in the courtyard was already preheated. Mrs. Tong and A-Liang washed their hands, walked up front, and began taking orders from the guests—who wanted how many skewers. Since neither of them could read, they used the method Boss Tang had taught them: numbers were written on the tables, and the table against the wall had “1234” taped to it.

Tang Xianling had taught the two to use Arabic numerals; now, with traditional Chinese characters, they’d memorize and learn them, but they’d forget them all in the heat of the moment. So he decided to stick with numbers.

Table number X wants Y skewers of meat.

The two would jot it down and quickly report it to the counter, where Tieniu was in charge of writing and keeping track. Once everything was recorded, he’d take the slip to the back. Boss Tang handled the grilling, but since he couldn’t prepare the side dishes while grilling, Tieniu had to step in to explain.

“You really should hire someone.”

“No way, no way. If we get a new cook who doesn’t have Boss Tang’s skills, I’d rather wait a little longer.” 

“That’s right. Let’s just eat the skewers first and take our time.”

Huangfu Tieniu then said, “Thank you all for your understanding. If you’re full, at least we won’t be wasting any food.”

The diners looked up and couldn’t help but chuckle, teasing him, “You two really are a match made in heaven. Brother Tieniu, your tone is just like Boss Tang’s.”

“Don’t order anything else once you’re full”—what other restaurant would say something like that?

Someone chuckled, “I bet Tieniu is just feeling bad for Boss Tang. But I guess it makes sense—he’s been working all day.”

“That’s right,” Huangfu Tieniu nodded openly. If it weren’t for his mediocre cooking skills—hardly anything to write home about—he’d have loved to take on two stoves himself. The dinner crowd was even larger than at noon, and eventually, there was simply no more room.

If there really wasn’t room, they couldn’t very well make them wait in line, could they?

Tang Xianling was busy in the kitchen at the time and had no idea what was happening out front—his Tieniu had turned away the customers for him, apologizing profusely that the tables were full today, and even gave them yogurt to take home, asking them to come back early the next morning and specifying a time.

If they were willing to wait, who knew how long it would take? They’d likely go without a bite even after dark. Some diners left with their bamboo-tube yogurt, while others were quite upset, complaining they’d made a wasted trip.

Huangfu Tieniu, ever the patient soul, explained over and over again, asking the diners not to be upset, saying it was too late and that waiting too long would be bad for their health.

The skewers were made in batches—sometimes one, sometimes two—and once they were done, they were gone. On most tables in the shop, there were about ten skewers, accompanied by two or three dishes, among which the clay pot ginger duck was the most popular.

They had originally planned to order spare ribs, but then they discovered a new dish. They ordered it, took a bite, and were immediately blown away.

Then there were the century eggs. Even though we’d warned customers in advance—“Century eggs have a unique flavor; some people don’t like them”—some still ordered them. Those who didn’t like them would spit them out. Though they didn’t go so far as to demand a refund or accuse us of scamming them, they’d frown and stare at the century eggs as if they were poison, looking at us as if to say, “I can’t believe Chef Tang, who usually makes everything taste so good, could serve up something this awful.”

Is this even a dish?

Where there are those who hate it, there are those who love it.

Cold-served century eggs—including the small portion in the midday preserved egg and lean pork congee—are a favorite for some. At first, the taste might be unfamiliar, but once finished, they crave more, feeling they haven’t had enough—it’s truly something you haven’t tasted before, and it’s delicious.

That day, the shop didn’t close until sunset.

After seeing the last customers off, it was time to clean up. The shop floor had to be swept and mopped, the tables and chairs wiped down, and there were piles of plates and bowls to wash. Thankfully, Boss Tang had ordered plenty of tableware; otherwise, they really wouldn’t have had enough.

With all the cleaning and bustle, he didn’t even have time to make dinner.

Jiang Yun felt sorry for Wu-ger and suggested she go out to buy some food.

“Mother, don’t go yourself—you’re all tired. I’ll give Sister Tong and A-Liang some money; they can buy whatever they want on their way home,” Tang Xianling said. He was so exhausted he couldn’t even lift his arm to wield a spatula.

Mrs. Tong and A-Liang declined, implying that they could just make do with whatever was at home.

Mr. Tang ignored their protests and simply handed each of them ten wen. “It’s been too chaotic today. Take this, finish up, and head home early. Come back at the same time tomorrow.”

The two had no choice—when Mr. Tang was the boss, he was a man of his word, and he liked employees who did as they were told, so they could only meekly take the qian. As night fell, the two headed home together.

Tang Xianling pulled Tieniu over to sit on the railing and rest a while longer.

“You’ve got to have a bite.”

“I don’t feel like eating. I’ve lost my appetite, really.” Tang Xianling had been in the thick of the smoke and heat all day and truly had no appetite. “Don’t bother with it. And you too, Mom. If the water’s boiling, let it boil. We’ll get it later.”

Jiang Yun said, “Actually, I’m not that tired. I’m fine.” She meant it.

It was just Wu-ger who was too busy today; everyone else had a chance to catch their breath and rest, but not Wu-ger—grilling skewers, prepping ingredients, steaming, and stir-frying—he had to do it all.

Huangfu Tieniu said, “We should really hire someone.”

“I’ve been thinking the same—not just a general helper, but a kitchen assistant.” Tang Xianling already had someone in mind. He was short-handed and in urgent need of help; he simply didn’t have time to slowly search through the labor brokers in the West Market. He couldn’t possibly wait until the weekend, could he?

He looked at Tieniu and his mother. “Chef Tian from Bajiao Lane—”

Jiang Yun cut in, “I doubt he’d come. He makes one or two taels of silver per banquet. I heard from Qiaolian that Chef Tian is a skilled cook—he’s booked for most of the month.”

If he works twenty days a month, that’s twenty or thirty taels of silver.

Why would Chef Tian bother coming to his house to do menial work?

“It’s not Chef Tian himself, but the two apprentices he brings. We only need one of them to help out in a pinch.” As he spoke, Tang Xianling found himself wavering.

“The bond between master and apprentice is very strong these days—almost like that of a father and son. Especially since Chef Tian is genuinely kind to his two apprentices, not the kind of stingy master you sometimes hear about. Given that, even if I offered the younger apprentice wages, it’s not certain I could get him to come.”

Huangfu Tieniu: “We’ll just have to go ask and see. I’ll go ask first thing tomorrow morning.” 

“I’ll go ask. I don’t know how to slaughter ducks,” Tang Xianling said.

He found it hard to bring himself to slaughter a duck, but Tieniu was quick, decisive, and precise when it came to butchering chickens and ducks—he handled it with great efficiency.

Huangfu Tieniu thought for a moment. Not wanting to overwork Xianling, he nodded in agreement, then asked, “How many ducks should we buy tomorrow? We sold all six today.”

“They were all half-ducks. Just from the ducks alone, we made four hundred and twenty wen today,” he said, though he knew he couldn’t count it that way—there were still costs to factor in.

Speaking of money, Jiang Yun said, “We haven’t settled the accounts for today yet.”

Tang Xianling was nearly exhausted to death; he didn’t even feel like eating, let alone doing the accounts. But it certainly had to be done—he needed to know the daily income minus costs to figure out how to adjust things moving forward.

But… there’s absolutely no way they’d be losing money. Their prices aren’t exactly low these days.

Huangfu Tieniu said, “Let’s take a bath first. I’ll scrub your back for you.” He got up to prepare the bathwater. They had a tub at home, and today he wanted to help his husband soak and relax to ease his fatigue.

Tang Xianling said it was a waste of water, complaining that he was using too much. Tieniu had to carry bucket after bucket of water. He felt bad for Tieniu, but Tieniu also felt bad for him—he’d been so exhausted today… The young couple was always thinking of each other.

Once Tang Xianling got into the tub, his whole body truly relaxed. With a handsome guy massaging his back, he asked, “Mr. Tang, is this pressure okay?”

“Hehehehehe.” Boss Tang grinned like a total goofball; all his fatigue melted away. He turned his head to rest against the side of the tub and looked at Tieniu—his gaze landing right on Tieniu’s crotch.

Tang Xianling: …He shifted his gaze upward.

It’s so big.

Don’t get any ideas.

He must not be exhausted to still be thinking about this.

“Ahem, um, where did you learn that? It’s killing me.” Boss Tang cleared his throat calmly before speaking.

Huangfu Tieniu lowered his head and smiled softly. The water was warm, and his husband’s face was flushed from soaking. His eyes were clear and a bit mischievous; whatever he was thinking was written all over his face, and he wore an expression of regret—it really was a pity.

“I learned it from you.”

Tang Xianling panicked. “Nonsense! I’m so innocent and naive—I wouldn’t know anything about those massage parlor tricks!” 

“What massage parlor?” Huangfu Tieniu asked.

Tang Xianling：……

“You know, those massage—oh, I mean, service industries.” Tang Xianling couldn’t explain it clearly. Finally, he realized it must be because he’d teased Tieniu with loose lips whenever he had the chance. He lay back down. “Tieniu, the pressure is just right. Keep going, don’t stop.”

Huangfu Tieniu curved the corners of his mouth. “Sure thing, Boss Tang.” Tang Xianling grinned like an idiot too.

After a long, tiring day, just doing nothing and chatting with Tieniu was enough to make him happy. When he finished his bath—he’d soaked for so long he felt a bit dizzy—he stepped out, wrapped himself in a dry towel, and started drying off. That’s when he saw Tieniu take off his underwear and climb into the tub.

Tang Xianling: “I’ve already used that.”

“I’ll soak in it first so it doesn’t go to waste. I’ll rinse it out again later,” Huangfu Tieniu said, glancing at his husband. “I like it.”

Tang Xianling’s face flushed crimson. “What on earth do you like? You big pervert!”

After the bath, he felt much better. Tang Xianling walked around the courtyard in loose shorts and a tank top. His mother had already brought out the money box from today’s earnings. Tang Xianling took a look and said, “It’s packed full.”

Jiang Yun: “This is just what I collected this time; there’s another bundle on the table.”

“Mother, you take a bath first. I’ll light a candle, and we’ll count it together later.”

“You and Tieniu can just settle it between yourselves. Why be so nitpicky with me when we’re family?” Jiang Yun said, her gaze filled with tenderness as she looked at her Wu-ger. “Finish the accounts early so you can rest early.”

“I know, Mother. I’ll settle the accounts with you later.”

Tang Xianling went to fetch a candle. After Tieniu had finished tidying up, he brought his mother hot and cold water for her bath, then came over to take a notepad to record the accounts. The two of them counted the qian and balanced the books in silence. After a while, the money was strung into strings and laid out on the table, filling it to the brim.

Huangfu Tieniu opened the ledger to reconcile the accounts. He had a good memory and recalled every last detail of today’s expenses. Tang Xianling counted the qian, and at the end, he was startled by the figure before him. Afraid he might have miscounted, he considered counting it again.

“That’s the third time. You definitely didn’t make a mistake. How much is it?” Huangfu Tieniu asked.

Tang Xianling’s dazed gaze flickered with excitement as he rushed over to hug Tieniu, beaming, “We’re making a killing! We made eight and a half taels of silver today.”

This was before deducting costs, but it was already a substantial amount.

The restaurant had a total of eight tables. From 11:00 a.m. to 2:00 p.m., not a single table was empty. From a little past 2:00 p.m. to 4:00 p.m., people would reserve seats but didn’t order meals—they were served complimentary small dishes and snacks. The afternoon service ran from a little past 4:00 p.m. until nearly 7:00 p.m.

Feeling his husband’s joy and excitement, Huangfu Tieniu found himself sharing in the happiness—not because they had made a huge profit, but because his husband loved making a lot of money.

“Well, today’s hard work wasn’t for nothing.”

“You bet.” Tang Xianling gave Tieniu a squeeze on the arm. “Let’s crunch the numbers—how much is left after we cover costs?”

Aunt Tong and A-Liang’s wages were very cheap; their monthly expenses totaled only eight hundred wen. Even if you added employee benefits, the fixed monthly cost per person would be no more than one and a half tael at most.

“I also gave away some yogurt today,” Huangfu Tieniu said.

Upon hearing this, Tang Xianling didn’t even ask when he’d done it; he just said cheerfully, “You’re the little boss—if you want to give it away, go ahead. That’s great!”    

“Then who’s the big boss?”

“Of course it’s me!” Tang Xianling nudged Tieniu. “I’m older than you, after all.”

Huangfu Tieniu felt as sweet as honey inside. “Yes, Big Boss Tang.” 

“Little Boss Tieniu, you’re too kind~.”

The two teased each other. After calculating the costs—charcoal, rice, flour, spices, meat, vegetables, and everything else they could think of—they added it all up and concluded that the net profit was at least five taels of silver.

Tang Xianling：……

The restaurant was indeed profitable.

After all, food is the people’s priority. Tang Xianling suppressed his excitement. “Once business starts to slow down, I reckon the profit will drop a bit.” 

“That sounds familiar,” Huangfu Tieniu said.

Both of them laughed. Tang Xianling stopped calculating; thinking about future money was a bit pointless.

It was nearly ten o’clock by the time they went to bed that night. Tang Xianling collapsed onto his bed and fell into a deep, restful sleep. When he woke up a little after seven the next morning, his mother had already returned with breakfast.

Jiang Yun had already eaten, while Tieniu was in the courtyard slaughtering ducks—he’d already killed and prepared three of them. Tang Xianling asked, “You got up awfully early.”

“Just a little earlier than usual,” Huangfu Tieniu didn’t answer directly, but said, “Once you’ve finished eating and cleaned up, let’s go to Baxing District to find Chef Tian.”

Tang Xianling furrowed his brow. “You got up too early. Go to bed early tonight.”

“Alright.” Huangfu Tieniu agreed, knowing his husband was worried about him. “I’m still young; I’m not tired.”

“Hmph, who are you calling not young?” Tang Xianling deliberately twisted Tieniu’s words to tease him; he knew Tieniu meant he wasn’t tired, that this work was no big deal and not at all strenuous.

Jiang Yun chuckled beside them and teased, “You’re talking about me, aren’t you? I’m the only one in this family who’s getting on in years.” 

“Mother! You’re talking nonsense. You’re the youngest in our family,” Tang Xianling said sweetly, grinning.

They all laughed heartily over breakfast, and another day full of vitality began.

Tang Xianling finished his porridge in a few quick bites, mumbling his agreement with a steamed dumpling in his mouth. Huangfu Tieniu didn’t harness the mule to the cart; he simply saddled the animal. First, he lifted his husband onto the saddle, then climbed up himself, wrapping his arms around his husband’s waist.

The mule trotted out of the alley toward the main street.

Bajiao Lane was to the east, not far from Baxing District. The ride on the mule was quick, and upon arrival, after asking around, they found Tian Chuzi’s house without a hitch. Tian Chuzi’s courtyard was about the same size as the Lu family’s, but it was cluttered with odds and ends, making it look a bit cramped.

When Xiao Mi opened the door, he was startled. “Mr. Tang, what are you doing here?”

“You still remember me.” Tang Xianling smiled warmly; he, too, recognized this round-faced, squinty-eyed child. “Xiao Mi, is it? Where’s your master?”

His demeanor was that of a true elder, which intimidated Xiao Mi so much that he answered every question without hesitation, practically laying everything bare. Xiao Mi’s master’s business had been so-so this month; he’d only taken on five banquets so far.

Big Boss Tang was in luck—Chef Tian was home today. It made sense; if he’d gone out to cater a banquet, he would’ve had to take both apprentices with him, and there wouldn’t have been a soul in the house.

Hearing the commotion, Chef Tian bellowed, “Mi, who is it?”

Xiao Mi called out, “Master, Boss Tang is here.” Worried his master might not recognize Boss Tang—he was getting on in years and often mixed people up—he added, “It’s Boss Tang—the one whose sweet and sour spare ribs are especially delicious. Even his shredded potatoes are good.”

Tang Xianling nodded approvingly. “This Xiao Mi is quite good—he knows how to talk.”

Tian Chuzi came running out in his slippers, but once he reached the courtyard, he composed himself. He even took the time to smooth his hair—though, having just woken up, his hair was a complete mess, and he looked puffy and disheveled.

After all, he was in his forties; no matter how he tried to spruce himself up, he simply couldn’t hold a candle to Mr. Tang in terms of looks.

Chef Tian gave up hope, cleared his throat, and said, “I heard Mr. Tang’s restaurant has opened. What brings you here today? I only do banquet catering.” Getting straight to the point, he paused to think for a moment, a few theories forming in his mind.

Because Mr. Tang’s braised pork was so good, he’d been thinking about it ever since he returned. Later, he added quite a few pork dishes to his banquet menu. His signature dish used to be fish, but now he had another: sweet and sour spare ribs.

Everyone who’d tried it said it was delicious; some even claimed it was more flavorful than the fish he used to make.

Hearing the praise, Chef Tian felt a mix of emotions, but one must not be “ungrateful.” Though he had paid his dues and taught Mr. Tang his knife skills, it was still a different matter.

With Boss Tang’s natural talent, just by watching him slice vegetables and putting in some practice, he’d have picked it up. But if Boss Tang hadn’t mentioned which spices to use for the sweet and sour spare ribs, Chef Tian would never have figured it out on his own.

At that moment, Chef Tian thought to himself: Boss Tang had come here to ask for his help—to borrow his skills.

“Chef Tian, could I borrow your two apprentices for a while? I’ll pay them a wage.” Tang Xianling was also straightforward; since the other party didn’t want to make small talk, and he was in a hurry himself.

Chef Tian: Huh?

Wasn’t he here to borrow him?

To borrow Da Yuan and Xiao Mi? Well—

The rest happened quickly. After they reached an agreement, Tang Xianling and Tieniu left first, leaving the kids some money for a cart. As soon as the two of them were gone, Chef Tian told his two apprentices: “You two go to the Tang family’s shop. I taught you… don’t mention that I taught you.”

Da Yuan and Xiao Mi: Huh?

So did you teach them or not?