"The porridge Sister made is super delicious!" the chubby boy announced proudly. "Mom, Dad—you came too late. You didn't get to eat any!"
"It really is super delicious!" he repeated, and in a sudden show of filial piety, he tugged gently at Ye Jiujiu's pants. "Sister, do you have more? Can my mommy and daddy try some too?"
Ye Jiujiu pointed at the empty pot on the table. "We already ate everything we made today."
His parents froze, staring at the clean, empty bowl. Their faces flushed with embarrassment. How humiliating. They apologized quickly to Ye Jiujiu before scooping up their son.
"Just wait till we get home—we'll deal with you then."
But the chubby boy wasn't scared at all. Instead, he asked eagerly, "Will there be more tomorrow? If yes, I'll come again!"
"Come again!" the other two children echoed loudly.
Their parents each gave their bottoms a sharp smack, making them yelp in pain.
Watching this, Ye Jiujiu felt a mix of amusement and tenderness. These kids were truly something else.
Once the families left, she glanced around at the empty, quiet street. She closed the shop door, washed the dishes, and then returned to the kitchen. After that, she moved to the inner rooms of the restaurant. Since her grandmother fell ill, no one had cleaned properly for a long time, and a thick layer of dust coated everything.
She cleaned the house inside and out. By the time she finished, the sky had already dimmed into evening. With an aching back, she walked to the kitchen. The four blue crabs in the sink had been sitting out all day and were nearly lifeless.
She picked one up and sniffed. Based on her cooking experience, they were still edible, but definitely not as fresh as in the morning.
"What a waste to throw them away," she murmured. "I'll make spicy stir-fried crab."
She headed to the courtyard flower bed, lush with scallions, cilantro, mint, perilla, basil, chili peppers—her grandmother had planted them all specifically for cooking. She picked what she needed and returned to the kitchen.
After prepping everything, she began cooking. Oil heated in the wok, and she tossed in ginger, garlic, dried chili peppers, and her homemade spicy sauce—a pure, additive-free recipe even more fragrant than restaurant versions.
The moment the aroma bloomed, she added the chopped crabs, shaking the wok so each piece was coated in glossy red oil. She poured in some water and simmered until the shells turned bright red and the smell filled the entire kitchen. Finally, she sprinkled fresh cilantro on top and lifted the wok off the heat.
As soon as it was done, she grabbed a piece and took a bite.
A wave of spiciness exploded across her tongue—the kind that burned yet refreshed at the same time. The heat had seeped thoroughly into the crab meat, but the natural sweetness still shone through. Fragrant, spicy, fresh, addictive.
Her forehead broke into a light sweat. She quickly took a sip of iced cola. Blissfully refreshing!
After finishing the crabs, she showered and went back to her room, mind already shifting to business.
The restaurant had been struggling. Grandma was old and couldn't cook much, and the location was terrible. With dozens of shops scattered everywhere else, who would bother navigating deep into Pear Blossom Alley just to eat here?
Ye Jiujiu felt the solution was to create signature takeout dishes.
With that thought, she grabbed her phone and browsed nearby restaurants, studying their menus and prices. Know your competition, know yourself—only then can you win.
Immediately, her "work mode" switched on. She opened an Excel spreadsheet and started drafting ideas and comparisons. By the time she finished, it was already deep into the night. Her throat felt dry. She picked up her water cup—empty.
She walked to the kitchen.
The moonlight shone cold and bright, and a cool night breeze drifted through the window.
After pouring herself a glass of water, she suddenly heard a strange gurgling sound coming from the refrigerator—like water rushing into a sandpit at high tide.