Mr. Huang brought Liu Baojian on a Friday, figuring there’d be fewer people at lunchtime. He’d specifically reserved a private room so they could sit down and eat at their leisure.

As for business—Liu Baojian just wouldn’t take the bait. He’d already tested the waters twice before, so this time, Boss Huang didn’t plan to bring up business. The man looked slick and “greedy,” but in reality, he just enjoyed dining at the expense of some city bosses; if anyone actually tried to slip him money, he’d refuse it outright.

Dealing with someone so slippery is a real headache. Let’s just eat first.

Mr. Huang first invited Liu Baojian to sit down. When Mrs. Tong came in to serve tea, Mr. Huang asked what dishes were on the menu that morning and if there were any new ones. Mrs. Tong answered each question in turn.

“Besides the usual, we unexpectedly caught three fish this morning—”

As soon as Mr. Huang heard this, he immediately ordered one, without even asking about the flavor or cooking method, and then asked Brother Liu what he wanted to eat. Liu Baojian was just looking around; he thought this little restaurant looked unassuming from the outside but was actually quite nice inside—comfortable enough. Hearing Mr. Huang say this, he replied cheerfully, “Brother Huang, you decide. I trust your judgment.”

“Another compliment,” Mr. Huang thought to himself. With a cheerful smile, he kept calling him “Brother Liu” and said, “Then I’ll order.” He followed Mrs. Tong’s lead and said, “One serving of sweet and sour spare ribs, steamed pork with rice flour, baked pumpkin with salted egg yolk, ginger duck, and cold-served century eggs…”

The two of them ordered a table full of dishes.

Sister Tong went to place the order, and Tang Xianling took the slip, casually asking, “How many tables?”

Aunt Tong replied, “Mr. Huang has reserved a private room for one table.” No sooner had she finished speaking than Tieniu walked in, bringing two more tables. He handed over the order, but even combined, the two tables’ orders amounted to about the same volume as Mr. Huang’s table. Moreover, many of the dishes overlapped—dishes like fried fish and pumpkin—which Tang Xianling could prepare in a single batch.

The fried items—like fish and pumpkin—were all pre-fried, and a certain amount of sweet-and-sour spare ribs was also prepared in advance; if there were any leftovers, the family could eat them for lunch. In fact, they sold out every day with hardly anything left over—after all, this dish was the signature dish that had made Mr. Tang famous.

However, recently, salted egg yolk-baked pumpkin and ginger duck have become the new signature dishes. Tang Xianling has started making them.

In the private room up front, Liu Baojian and Boss Huang were sipping tea and chatting idly about things unrelated to business. Liu Baojian took a sip of tea and remarked, “This tea does have a unique flavor.”

“Their tea isn’t made from any fancy tea leaves,” Boss Huang said honestly, chuckling. “It’s all a blend Master Tang makes himself. Once, I even tasted cucumber in it.”

“Wow, using cucumbers as tea leaves—that’s a first for me.” 

“You bet.”

The two chatted about such trivialities.

Liu Baojian loved good food and dined out at different restaurants every day, but he wasn’t actually a glutton—perhaps he’d simply eaten too much. In his view, the dishes prepared by chefs at any restaurant in Fengyuan City tasted pretty much the same.

Delicious, expensive, high-end—but the taste was all the same.

Sometimes, when he attended banquets back-to-back for several days, he’d feel stuffed to the gills, his stomach solid and heavy. Just hearing the dishes Mr. Huang had ordered, he knew today’s feast would be another all-meat affair.

As for this restaurant and this meal, he felt the same as always—no particular expectations or excitement. The tea, however, was decent—refreshing and crisp.

Before long, a faint aroma drifted in through the window. Mr. Huang caught a whiff of it, and his appetite was piqued. He sniffed carefully—it didn’t seem like anything he’d eaten before—and found himself speaking to Liu Baojian slowly and absentmindedly.

Fortunately, Liu Baojian was the same.

As the aroma grew stronger, more and more people gathered at the tables outside.

Liu Baojian’s sporadic small talk slowed to a crawl, and the private room suddenly fell “silent”—you could hear the voices of diners from the neighboring private room and the tables in the main dining area

from the adjacent private room and the tables in the main dining area.

“What smells so good?” 

“Is there fish?!”

A-Liang replied apologetically, “Sir, we unexpectedly got three fish today, but they’re all sold out now.” 

“What?!!!!”

Upon hearing this, Boss Huang couldn’t help but feel smug—thank goodness he’d been quick on the draw and snatched them up first.

“I’m truly sorry, but someone came to sell fish on Main Street today—just three of them—and our young boss bought them all up,” A-Liang explained one by one, feeling a bit embarrassed—in reality, there were four, but Boss Tang, craving fish, had kept one for himself to eat at lunch.

To the outside world, they only mentioned three fish.

“Never mind, never mind. His family has never cooked fish before; maybe it just smells good, but it probably doesn’t taste that great.” The diner consoled himself: This fish is smelly and sour; he doesn’t like fish.

Then the sour, smelly fish was brought in from the back. The diner, who had just finished trying to convince himself: ???

His neck was stretched out as far as it would go.

The fish was brought to the private room. It was a huge fish, topped with cilantro, chopped scallions, and fried peanuts. The fish was crispy on the outside and tender on the inside, with a crunchy skin soaked in a rich, savory sauce.

As soon as Boss Huang saw it, his appetite was whetted. He swallowed hard, his eyes lighting up—this fish had to be delicious; if it wasn’t, he’d eat the plate right along with it.

“Brother Liu, can you handle pepper? I noticed this fish has evodia in it—it’s part of Chef Tang’s secret blend.”

Liu Baojian couldn’t tear his eyes away and nodded vigorously.

“Please.”

“Please.”

After exchanging polite pleasantries, they both picked up their chopsticks. With just one bite, Liu Baojian’s appetite was fully whetted. The fish had a particularly rich flavor; after a few bites, the spicy heat tingled his tongue, and his whole face flushed red.

“Sister Tong, bring some yogurt.” As soon as Boss Huang saw it, he called out. Sister Tong brought the yogurt.

Meanwhile, diners in the dining hall, who could smell the aroma but couldn’t get any, had some even say, “Can’t your boss go to the West Market to buy some fish? We’d be able to have fish for dinner, right?” 

“I don’t know about that. I’ll ask.” A-Liang went into the backyard to ask Boss Tang.

Someone else said, “I’ll order tomorrow—I’m too full to eat now.”  

“You forgot that Boss Tang is taking the day off tomorrow.”

“Why take a day off when business is this good?”

“What does that fish actually taste like? The smell is really unique.” 

“It smells like it has bayberry in it.”

The dining hall was filled with such chatter; the aroma of the grilled fish was truly overwhelming. Upon hearing A-Liang’s report, Tang Xianling couldn’t help but consider the feasibility. Finally, he called for Da Yuan to go to the West Market to buy fish: “Get whatever kind you can find—five of them. If they’re live fish, that’ll take too long. Just grab a bucket, go buy them, and take a ride back.”

Tang Xianling handed Da Yuan the money and told him to take it and go right away.

Not to mention the diners in the restaurant, even Da Yuan and Xiao Mi were drooling the moment Boss Tang started grilling the fish—it smelled so good, even better than his master’s signature fish dish.

A-Liang went to relay the message, saying he’d go buy the ingredients right away, but he didn’t dare give a definite time.

Diner: “I’m staying right here today. When the fish gets back, I’m the first one to eat it!”

Someone else joked, “Don’t get too worked up. If it doesn’t work out, next time we pass by the West Market, we’ll buy some fish and bring it over for Boss Tang to cook.” Everyone was in high spirits.

“This fish is delicious but not cheap. Master Tang just opened his shop, and this is a windfall for him today. Let’s talk to him—if you want to eat it, just wait until after the weekend. There’ll definitely be plenty of fish then.” Some of the diners knew Master Tang well.

Mr. Tang is actually a very easygoing guy.

Everyone nodded in agreement, and following Mrs. Tong and A-Liang’s lead, they chatted for a while about how much they wanted fish, and how they’d make sure to buy plenty from him next week—assuring him it would all sell, so he shouldn’t worry.

A-Liang and Mrs. Tong took note.

Sixty-eight wen for a single grilled fish—that really is a steep price.

But in the eyes of Boss Huang and Liu Baojian, this spread was actually quite cheap—compared to the high-end banquets in the West Market, it was just a fraction of the cost.

The fish whetted their appetites, followed by sweet-and-salty baked pumpkin, sweet-and-sour spare ribs, and tender, sticky steamed pork with rice flour—all served with soft, fluffy lotus leaf buns.

Liu Baojian didn’t touch a single grain of rice; he ate four of those palm-sized cakes.

“Oh my, I can’t eat anymore; I’m stuffed.” By the end, Liu Baojian really couldn’t eat another bite, but the table was truly filled with delicious dishes; even though he was stuffed, he didn’t feel the slightest bit of greasiness.

Mr. Huang took one look and realized that while they hadn’t even been drinking buddies before, there was now a genuine connection between them. He chuckled and said, “I used to be just like that. Back then, this place was still just a takeout joint—no à la carte menu—and the tables were crammed with people sharing seats…”

Liu Baojian listened with a smile, picking at his bowl of yogurt until he’d finished it, feeling instantly refreshed. The two of them simply enjoyed a meal in the private room; after they finished, they sat for a while, feeling a bit drowsy, without discussing business at all.

When they left that afternoon, Boss Huang settled the bill and slipped Sister Tong an extra hundred wen, saying, “We stayed a long time today. Take this.” Sister Tong hesitated to accept it, insisting she’d have to report it to Boss Tang.

“Take it. What establishment on the West Market doesn’t accept tips?” Liu Baojian glanced at the woman and said, “It’s what your place deserves. The food at today’s banquet was just to our liking.”

Mrs. Tong was taken aback and had no choice but to accept it. After seeing the guests off, Mrs. Tong went to find Boss Tieniu, repeated the exact words, and handed him the money. Huangfu Tieniu took the money and put it away.

At noon, the staff meal featured grilled fish. Da Yuan hadn’t returned yet. Since the Tang family’s staff meals were served individually, Xiao Mi, not knowing this, was a bit anxious. He had cooked a whole fish today and, afraid there wouldn’t be enough for his senior apprentice brother, decided to save a bite for him.

“Just eat your own,” Tang Xianling said, noticing Xiao Mi wasn’t eating. “Don’t you like fish?”

Xiao Mi shook his head like a rattle.

“Doesn’t it taste good?” Big Boss Tang was clearly teasing him.

Xiao Mi: “It’s good, it’s good.” This time, he nodded like a little chick pecking at grain.

“Go ahead and eat. Isn’t your senior brother’s portion right there on the plate? It’s all for him,” Jiang Yun chimed in with a smile. Upon hearing this, Xiao Mi was instantly relieved and buried his head in his food, eating with gusto.

By the time Da Yuan returned, the fish had cooled slightly, but since it was hot outside, it hadn’t gotten much cooler; instead, the broth had soaked in, making it even more flavorful. Da Yuan ate two bowls of rice mixed with the fish broth. After finishing, he felt a bit embarrassed, afraid the boss would think he was eating too much.

Tang Xianling didn’t bat an eye. “You’re done eating? You two clean up the fish—wait a bit. Clean up later. Rest for a while after you’ve eaten.” No rush.

That very afternoon, not only were all five fish sold out, but many diners also placed orders, saying they wanted to eat there next week—Tang Xianling knew right then that next week he could reduce the portion of the signature pork dish and serve more fish instead.

It was almost the middle of the month.

Tang Xianling’s joy and excitement were plain to see—not that running a business isn’t enjoyable; it is, but the joy of a day off is something else entirely!

As soon as Friday arrived, Tang Xianling was in high spirits even while taking a bath; he was even in the mood to play pranks with Tieniu. He didn’t sleep well that night after all the shenanigans.

The next day, he didn’t get up until the sun was high in the sky. After eating a combined breakfast and lunch, Huangfu Tieniu hitched up the cart, and the three of them went to the East and West Markets to have some fun—mainly to bathe, eat, drop off clothes for washing, and for Tang Xianling to go to the labor agency to pick out a worker.

Nowadays, labor agencies didn’t just sell people; they also handled employment contracts. The agencies took a cut, much like modern recruitment agencies, but they were more reliable than finding help on your own—based on your requirements, the agency would scout for candidates and thoroughly vet their backgrounds.

Tang Xianling needed to hire an assistant with some culinary skills; unlike hiring a general laborer, he had to be more careful in his selection. As for using Chef Tian’s two apprentices, first, Chef Tian had been catering banquets for most of his life and would never give that up to switch careers and open a restaurant in his middle age.

Second, Da Yuan and Xiao Mi are really just here to help out in a pinch; they won’t be staying long-term. But Tang Xianling needs to hire a permanent employee.

After stating his requirements at the West Market recruitment agency—a chef with some culinary skills—

The recruiter, being particularly professional, asked him whether he needed someone for “red kitchen” or “white kitchen” duties. Tang Xianling was taken aback: “Huh?” The recruiter looked at him, equally confused, and then explained: “Red kitchen” refers to meat-cutting and meat-cooking tasks, while “white kitchen” refers to noodle dishes and pastries.

“That’s a rather broad classification. If you want something more specific, would you prefer the cuisine of Nankou, Beikou, or Lujingkou?” 

Tang Xianling: “Now that’s what I call expertise!”

He really was a self-taught cook.

After picking up some basic theory at the recruitment agency, Big Boss Tang concluded: “I need someone who knows a bit of both white and red kitchen work. Proficiency in knife skills, an understanding of cooking temperatures, and familiarity with pastries would be ideal.”

“This is going to be a challenge,” the recruiter thought to himself.

Tang Xianling was indeed lacking in the pastry department. Even the flatbreads for his steamed pork sandwiches were prepared in advance by the Lu family—he simply had them steam them. That family’s leavened buns and flatbreads were second to none.

However, he could bake pot-baked bread and Western-style pastries—though these were simple and didn’t require elaborate decoration. The flower-shaped buns Mrs. Chen had molded earlier—now that was true craftsmanship.

The broker noted down the terms, collected half a tael of silver up front, and agreed that once the deal was done—regardless of the timeframe, as long as Mr. Tang was satisfied with the hire—he would pay the remaining half tael of silver, at which point the transaction would be considered complete.

And there’s an after-sales guarantee.

If the person recommended by the agency isn’t suitable, you can send them back within the first three months, and the agency will find you a replacement free of charge—until they find someone who truly suits the boss’s needs.

As for confidentiality, the agency guarantees they’ll screen candidates rigorously. But people are only human—they all have their own interests. After working there for a while, sometimes the shop just can’t keep them, and there’s nothing the agency can do about that.

Tang Xianling：……

This broker is a smooth talker—he lets you interpret his words however you like.

The implication is that if his employer mistreats workers, they run away, or are poached by other shops—perhaps bribed with silver—it has nothing to do with the agency.

“…If you want to keep this confidential, to be honest, you could just buy a person,” the broker said.

That’s the most convenient option.

As soon as Tang Xianling heard the word “buy,” he replied decisively, “Then please help me find someone honest and reliable.” Alright, this family is still looking for a hired hand.

On Saturday, after the family had finished their errands and shopping, and once everything was settled, they took a bath, freshened up, and Mr. Tang treated his family to a meal at a restaurant.

It was a peaceful and leisurely day. In the evening, Tang Xianling and his family sat in the courtyard eating watermelon.

Two days after the banquet at Mr. Huang’s, Liu Baojian was still thinking about the dishes served that day. During that time, others invited him to banquets, but Liu Baojian turned them down.

The merchants who had been turned down grew suspicious: Could it be that Liu Baojian had already made a deal with someone? They sent people to find out which households Liu Baojian had recently visited.

After making inquiries, they discovered it was at Mr. Huang’s place.

“This Huang fellow isn’t that old, but he’s cunning and resourceful. Even a smooth-talking old fox like Liu Baojian fell for his tricks…”

Mr. Huang had no idea that this deal had been misunderstood. If he’d heard about it, he would surely have thought: “What’s there to ‘seal’? They just had a meal together—they didn’t discuss a single business matter.”

A few more days passed.

Mr. Huang invited Liu Baojian to dinner again. Upon hearing this, Liu Baojian asked first, “At Tang’s Restaurant?” 

“Right. I haven’t eaten there in a few days, and I’ve been craving it ever since,” said Mr. Huang.

Liu Baojian was delighted, though he didn’t show it, and simply agreed at once.

The two had another meal together. This time, they ordered fewer dishes—all of them were the ones Liu Baojian had loved so much last time. Just as they were about to leave and settle the bill, Boss Huang slipped an extra hundred wen into the tip.

Huangfu Tieniu went to settle the bill and collect the money.

“Young boss, I see your business is getting better and better.”

Huangfu Tieniu smiled and said, “Thank you all for your continued patronage.”

No sooner had Liu Baojian and Boss Huang left than, within a day, the cloth merchants in Fengyuan City who were eager to do business with Liu Baojian had all heard of the Tang Family Restaurant.

Business at home had been booming lately, and some wealthy patrons even left generous tips—though they were always asking all sorts of questions.

Aunt Tong relayed the message to Mr. Tang: “…They asked about Mr. Huang and what he said, but I told them I didn’t know—I was too busy to hear clearly.” That was indeed the truth.

Tang Xianling nodded, said it was fine, and reassured Aunt Tong.

Once Sister Tong had left, Tang Xianling said to Tieniu, “Could it be that someone who lost out to Boss Huang in business is taking it out on us and causing trouble?”

Huangfu Tieniu had considered that possibility too, but since nothing had happened yet, it was a bit early to worry about it.

Tang Xianling didn’t want to go looking for “powerful connections” to rely on either.

What kind of backing could his family possibly have? The only option would be to slip extra protection money to the patrol officers—but he wasn’t keen on doing that. None of the other shops on the main street did it; if he were to take the lead in paying bribes and starting that kind of practice, he’d just be fattening up the patrol officers. Then, once the patrol officers got the idea into their heads, they’d find all sorts of ways to extort money from the shops on the street.

It was rare for the officials of Fengyuan City to be so strict with their subordinates; the ward officials didn’t take bribes or oppress the common people. Why would he go out of his way to make himself a target and corrupt the atmosphere?

“If nothing happens, I won’t get involved. But if anyone really comes to cause trouble, I’ll grab my weapon and fight them to the death,” Tang Xianling said, grinding his teeth. Huangfu Tieniu understood and said, “I’ll go. This time, I’ll stand in front of you.”

“…You’re still thinking about that time I beat up Old Zhao’s family?” Tang Xianling knew from the tone of Tieniu’s voice that he hadn’t forgotten that incident.

The two of them really were jinxes—whatever they said came true. The merchants who’d come to the inn to ask questions didn’t cause any trouble, but first came a few “officials” in uniform—though they weren’t actual officials with ranks, just clerks dressed like the ones Tang Xianling had seen in Master Yuan’s office.

The common folk couldn’t tell the difference between official ranks; as soon as they saw a uniform, they’d call everyone “Your Honor” without a second thought.

At first, these customers came in small groups of two or three. A-Liang and Sister Tong were terrified, trembling so much they didn’t know how to speak. Huangfu Tieniu attended to them. After they finished eating and wiped their mouths, they asked how much it cost.

Huangfu Tieniu quoted the price. The customer counted out the money and handed it over. The transaction was complete.

These officials and their servants didn’t use the occasion to cause trouble, extort money, or imply—or even state outright—that the meal was on the house.

Tang Xianling didn’t take this lightly. He suspected the worst—or rather, it was mainly because just a few days earlier, many merchants and their assistants had come asking about Boss Huang, Liu Baojian, and shortly after, the officials’ servants had appeared. He couldn’t help but wonder if there was some connection.

To his surprise, after these officials had dined there a few times, the merchants stopped coming.

Thinking the matter was settled, Tang Xianling sent these officials a dish, hoping to probe their intentions: “Why did you come? Is there something on your minds?” But the officers refused the gift, saying their superiors had forbidden them from accepting anything from commoners.

They strictly forbade accepting anything. Tang Xianling exclaimed, “What fine officials! What fine officials!”

As for the reason, the other party looked at him blankly.

“What else would we be here for if we’re having dinner at your house?” 

“Your cooking is actually quite good.” “It suits my taste perfectly—what business do you have?” 

“It’s just a bit far; it would be better if it were closer to our office.” 

“Now we can only come over for a meal when we’re on shift change.”

Tang Xianling listened with a smile, offered a few words of thanks, and then excused himself so as not to disturb their meal.

Neither he nor Tieniu had expected it. They’d been on high alert, speculating that officials or merchants might come to cause trouble—their imaginations had run wild. They never imagined that someone would indeed come to cause trouble, but it wasn’t what they’d anticipated.

That day, Tang Xianling was still asleep.

Father Cui came to knock on the door, which was something that hadn’t happened before.

Huangfu Tieniu threw on some clothes and came out. It was just dawn; summer mornings come early, and it was only half past the second hour of the morning. As soon as he stepped out, he asked Uncle Cui what the matter was. Father Cui was carrying a bucket of milk. Pointing to it, he said, “I’ve brought the milk. Dabao and I were busy, so I picked it up on my way here. But look—”

Father Cui lifted the lid off the milk pail.

Huangfu Tieniu looked down and immediately understood—something was wrong with the milk.

“Earlier, Dabao and I were busy in the kitchen and didn’t pay much attention. When we opened the door to get the milk pail, Dabao noticed something was off—there was water next to the pail. He took a look, and it looked like urine—” Father Cui spoke, and his face turned as dark as the bottom of a pot; he had lived in Baxing District for so long and had never seen anything like this.

Huangfu Tieniu: “Uncle Cui, did you see anyone?”

Father Cui shook his head; he hadn’t seen anyone. At first, he’d suspected the milk delivery man was behind it, but the milkman had no quarrel with the Tang family—in fact, he earned his living delivering milk to them. So, was it someone from the neighborhood?

A moment later, Cui Dabao rushed in and said, “Father, I know who it is. I just ran down Main Street and ran into Zhang Ming. He said the kid from the Old Zhao family bumped right into him face-to-face, got so scared he ran off as fast as he could, and then went back to bang on the door of his own shop in a panic.”

“The Zhao family?” Father Cui asked Dabao. “Don’t make things up.”

Cui Dabao insisted, “I’m not making this up. Zhang Ming saw it himself. He said that kid from the Zhao family looked like a thief and was absolutely terrified of him.” Huangfu Tieniu tightened his grip on the milk pail and said, “I’m going to find his family.”

“Shouldn’t we tell Boss Tang first?” asked Cui Dabao.

Tieniu hummed in acknowledgment and went back inside. Tang Xianling was asleep; half-asleep, he heard voices outside—something about Old Zhao and milk—and thought he was dreaming. Then he heard Tieniu call him softly, saying that a kid from the Zhao family had peed in their milk pail.

Tang Xianling sat bolt upright, his hair standing on end—

Ten minutes later, Boss Tang led a group of “enforcers,” with his husband carrying the milk pail, and they marched in force for the second time to the front of Old Zhao’s shop.

Tang Xianling stood with her hands on her hips, shouting, “Don’t think your whole family can hide in there and stay silent. I’m telling you today, you’ve hit a brick wall. Time and time again—do you think I’m a pushover?”

“If you don’t open the door, I’ll smash it.”

Huangfu Tieniu started smashing the door.

The loud banging drew the attention of several nearby shops, whose owners opened their doors and looked out questioningly.

Tang Xianling stood with his hands on his hips, speaking clearly: “That good-for-nothing son of the Zhao family—the one born without an anus—took advantage of no one being around to pee in my milk pail. We’re all in the food business; we value cleanliness and hygiene above all else. It’s the middle of summer, and he pulls a stunt like this—his heart is truly evil.”

“Everyone, take a good look. Today it’s my shop, but next time, if someone else’s business is booming, it’ll be your turn.”

Bang, bang—Huangfu Tieniu was banging on the door again.

Zhang Ming and the others followed behind, saying, “That’s just too mean,” and “How could anyone do such a thing?”

The door to Old Zhao’s shop swung open—it had to. Tang Xianling’s loud shouts could be heard everywhere, and her young, strong husband was nearly smashing the door to pieces.

“It wasn’t my kid—he’s just a little boy.” Sun Honghong stepped forward to defend her son.

Zhang Ming said, “I saw your son running back from the Tang family’s shop, looking as guilty as a thief caught in the act.”

Sun Honghong was at a loss for words, but she kept up her defiance—she’d learned the hard way from a slip of the tongue before, so this time she was determined to deny it no matter what. 

“My son just couldn’t sleep and went out for a walk,” she retorted. “Which eye of yours saw him peeing in the Tang family’s milk pail?”

Such words made Zhang Ming’s face turn ashen with rage. This family was truly shameless—the elders set a bad example, and the youngster followed suit. He was a coward, too, hiding behind his mother and grandmother after doing something wrong, too scared to show his face.

Tang Xianling was furious. He snatched the milk pail from Tieniu’s hands and flung it right at them, spilling half the contents and drenching the mother-in-law, daughter-in-law, and Zhao Dalang from head to toe in milk.

“Someone got hit!” 

“Someone’s being bullied?”

The family shouted at the top of their lungs.

Tang Xianling paid no heed to the Zhao family’s cries of grievance. “I’m going to teach him a lesson today!”

“He’s just a child,” Zhao Dalang’s mother finally couldn’t hold back any longer and came out.

Tang Xianling: “I’m hitting your kid!”

Huangfu Tieniu stepped in to block the Zhao family, while Tang Xianling grabbed the brat. Zhao Dalang’s son was only nine years old this year. Ever since he’d returned from the countryside, every time Tang Xianling walked past the Zhao family’s courtyard on his way back from the alley, the boy would stare at him.

When Tang Xianling looked back, the boy would shy away, too scared to meet his gaze.

It was fine at first, but as time went on—especially now that his business was booming—the brat’s gaze had grown increasingly venomous and hateful. Who knows what kind of upbringing his parents had given him? Tang Xianling hadn’t bothered with it before, since the kid hadn’t actually done anything to him—he was just a little brat.

But today—

Tang Xianling grabbed the kid by the arm and pinched his cheek.

“Mom, Grandma, help me! It hurts so much!” the child wailed.

Zhao Dalang was about to strike back—he wouldn’t let anyone bully his child—but before his hand could even rise, Huangfu Tieniu pinned him to the ground. “What on earth are you two doing?” 

“He’s so young, his pee is the cleanest—”

Tang Xianling shot back, “If it’s so clean, your whole family—young and old—can go ahead and drink it!”

Because the commotion grew so loud, the ward official eventually arrived—two hours after the incident. Old Zhao’s shop was still filled with spilled milk, not yet wiped clean, and in the heat, it was beginning to stink.

As soon as the ward official heard the story, he didn’t even bother taking it to the magistrate—the magistrate wasn’t that idle. For handling neighborhood disputes, he simply gave each of them five lashes, without asking who was right or wrong, and imposed a fine of one hundred cash.

Huangfu Tieniu took his five lashes, while Tang Xianling was both furious and heartbroken—utterly heartbroken.

That day, a notice was posted at the shop’s entrance: “Husband recuperating from injuries. Heartbroken. Closed for a few days.”

Customers who came for a meal only to find the place closed were initially annoyed—why was it shut down again? But upon seeing the notice, they sensed something was wrong. They’d seen the young owner, Tieniu, perfectly fine just yesterday; what had happened?

There was no need to ask around—the whole street knew exactly what had happened. After piecing it all together, the frustrated diners who’d come up empty-handed immediately lost all patience with Tang’s restaurant and turned their fury on the Zhao family, exclaiming, “How can this family be so shameless?”

“You bet,” others chimed in. “Mr. Tang took a milk pail and threw it at them—you can still see the marks if you go look now. He didn’t even take the pail back; he just smashed up the Old Zhao family’s place.” 

“Mr. Tang’s husband is a real piece of work. When the district officials showed up, he admitted to hitting him—he was the one who started it.”

By the time the uproar had died down, it was already late summer.

The Old Zhao family’s shop had been struggling all summer, but after this incident, they couldn’t even set foot on Main Street. They didn’t dare open their shop door. People asked, “Is your child’s urine clean? Is it that precious? Who knows what you put in the dough?”

In the food business, the worst fear is uncleanliness.

The Zhaos had hoped to just grin and bear it, thinking the matter would blow over and business would eventually recover to at least thirty or fifty percent of what it used to be. They figured everyone would forget about it in a year or two. But they never expected this time to be so disastrous—even when they sold things at a low cost, no one would buy them.

Zhao Dalang and Sun Honghong gave their son a good beating, but by then it was already too late.