Chapter 132 - 118: As Expected of a Grandmaster, Great Minds Think Alike
Chapter 132: Chapter 118: As Expected of a Grandmaster, Great Minds Think Alike
Zhou Yan rushed into the restaurant and rescued the drawing from Mrs. Zhao’s hands, just as she was about to paste it to the wall with rice.
Mrs. Zhao and Zhou Momo stared at him, bewildered.
"This drawing is too nice to paste on the wall. It’ll rot in less than two years. I’ll leave it here for now and go buy a frame for it." Zhou Yan placed the drawing on the counter and set a wooden board on top to flatten the creases.
After setting the drawing aside, Zhou Yan turned and went into the kitchen. He sliced a hefty portion of pork head and wrapped it up, then grabbed the copy of *Romance of the Three Kingdoms* that Old Zhou had stayed up reading by lamplight last night. He tossed them both into his bicycle basket, wheeled his roadster out the door, and called out, "I’m going to borrow a book!"
"Do you have to pay for library books with pork head these days?" Mrs. Zhao asked.
"I’m also visiting a friend on the way," Zhou Yan’s voice drifted in from outside.
"What’s gotten into him? Buying a frame for a single drawing?" Mrs. Zhao asked, looking at Comrade Zhou with a confused expression.
"It means he values that girl a lot, so he wants to preserve the drawing she made," Comrade Zhou analyzed.
Mrs. Zhao looked thoughtful, then smiled. "Not bad, Old Zhou. You get it."
...
Zhou Yan first rode his bike to the supply and marketing cooperative and bought a picture frame. It was just the right size for Xia Yao’s drawing.
He hadn’t thought too much about it; he just felt that since it was Xia Yao’s drawing, it should be preserved properly.
But Xia Yao had given it to Zhou Momo. It wouldn’t be right for him to just store it away in a box. Framing it for her would protect it from damage, whether she decided to put it on her desk or hang it on the wall.
’Right, that’s all it is.’
He also bought a sheaf of paper for Zhou Momo to draw on.
Then he headed to the town library.
An old man was lying on a recliner set up at the library entrance, engrossed in a book.
Zhou Yan parked his bike and took the copy of *Romance of the Three Kingdoms* and the packet of pork head from his basket.
Hearing the noise, the old man casually closed the book in his hand.
Zhou Yan vaguely saw two words on the cover: "Jin Ping..." It was wrapped in a book jacket, so he couldn’t see it clearly.
Of course, those two words were more than enough.
’The old man really is a man of passion.’
"Finished *Romance of the Three Kingdoms*?" The old man pushed the reading glasses that had slipped to the tip of his nose back up and smiled at Zhou Yan.
"That’s right. It was a great recommendation, Grandmaster. I learned a lot from it." Zhou Yan casually pulled over a small stool, sat down next to the old man, and offered him the braised meat he’d brought. "Here, try some of the braised pork head I made. It’s great with a drink."
The old man placed the book on his lap, took the wax paper bag, and opened it right away. He glanced at the pork head inside, picked up a slice, examined it, then popped it into his mouth. After chewing for a moment and swallowing, he sat up straight and asked Zhou Yan in surprise, "What’s your relationship with the Zhang Family who used to sell braised meat by the bridge?"
"That was my grandmother," Zhou Yan said with a smile.
"No wonder. The taste is identical." The old man smiled too, nodding at Zhou Yan. "You’ve inherited the skill well. I haven’t had braised pork head this good in years. Where’s your restaurant?"
"It’s by the textile factory gate. Zhou Yan Restaurant. If you’re free someday, come by. I’ll treat you to a meal," Zhou Yan replied.
"Good things should be paid for. Otherwise, how can you show you’re better than the others?" The old man shook his head with a hint of playful pride. "I have a retirement pension."
"Alright." Zhou Yan nodded. ’He’s the lucky one. I wonder what year I’ll ever get to retire.’
"What book do you want to borrow today?" the old man asked.
"What are you reading?"
"Young people should read less of this kind of book, lest they lose their ambition," the old man said without a blush or a single skipped heartbeat.
"Then could you recommend one for me?"
The old man said, "A young man should read books with some depth. Go in, turn left, third bookshelf, top shelf, the one all the way in the back. Take that one and read it."
Zhou Yan went inside. The third bookshelf was against the wall. The top shelf was so high that even with his height, he had to stand on his tiptoes to see clearly. He reached in and pulled out the book from the very back.
"*Siege*?" Zhou Yan was a bit surprised. He had heard of the book—but only heard of it; he’d never actually read it.
But since the Grandmaster recommended it, there was no harm in taking it back to read.
Zhou Yan came out with the book and sat back down on the small stool.
The old man looked down, peering at him over the reading glasses that had once again slipped to the tip of his nose. "So, your ’friend’ received another letter from a girl?"
’See? A Grandmaster is a Grandmaster for a reason.’
Zhou Yan didn’t blush. He just smiled and nodded. "He has two questions he wanted me to ask the Grandmaster."
The old man eyed him and nodded slightly. "Seeing as I’m eating your pork head, a few questions are no problem."
"The opening line is, ’To have just received your treasured letter is like seeing an old friend.’ What does that mean? Could you explain it for me?" Zhou Yan asked his first question.
"It means she was very happy to receive your letter, as if she were seeing you in person," the old man said, giving him a look. "This girl is much more cultured than you are."
"Well, she’s a university student. It’s normal for her to be more cultured than me," Zhou Yan laughed.
"University students just study a few textbooks. If you read more books, your conversation and knowledge won’t necessarily be any worse than theirs." The old man shook his head and pointed a finger at the rows of bookshelves in the library. "Finish one whole bookshelf, and you can walk out of here and call yourself a cultured man. Most so-called cultured people won’t have read as much as you."
"Deal. I’ll come borrow more books from now on," Zhou Yan nodded. He continued, "At the end of the letter, she mentioned something: she was strolling by the Yangtze River and felt a bit nostalgic for the breeze along the banks of the Suji River. Grandmaster, what do you think that sentence means? What is she trying to express?"
"And you think this ’Suji breeze’ is a metaphor for you?" the old man asked with a knowing smile.
Zhou Yan nodded, then shook his head. "It’s hard to say."
The old man didn’t answer, asking instead, "Where is that girl from? How many siblings does she have? What do her parents do? How much do you really know?"
Zhou Yan pondered for a moment. "She’s from Hang City, studying at a university in Mountain City. I’m not sure about her family situation, but I get the sense her parents aren’t ordinary people."
The old man glanced at the Parker fountain pen clipped to Zhou Yan’s chest pocket and asked with a smile, "A gift from her?"
"Yes." Zhou Yan nodded. ’I clip it on whenever I go out. It’s convenient for jotting down accounts, and it looks impressive when I take it out.’
"It’s a good pen, and she’s a good girl," the old man said with a laugh. "But she definitely just thinks the breeze by our Suji River is cooler. The summer wind in Mountain City can be scorching hot."
"You truly are a Grandmaster. Great minds think alike." Zhou Yan nodded. ’The Grandmaster really is a man of insight and depth.’ He stood up to leave, but then paused and asked, "How should I address you, Grandmaster?"
"My surname is Wang, given name Ran."
"Grandmaster Wang, see you next time." Zhou Yan swung his leg over his bike and rode off.
The old man watched Zhou Yan ride away into the distance. He stood up, opened a cabinet behind the desk inside the library, and reached for some liquor. His gaze fell upon a box next to it. With a flick of his finger, he opened the box. Inside was a neatly arranged box full of letters.
Hundreds of them, sealed in envelopes, stamped and addressed, but never sent.
The old man stood there for a long time before gently closing the box. He took the liquor and poured himself a glass, spread out the pork head Zhou Yan had brought, picked up a pair of chopsticks, and began to eat and drink by himself, perfectly at ease.
...
Zhou Yan stopped by the post office to ask about mailing packages before heading back to the restaurant.
The drawing had been flattened. Zhou Yan opened the frame, placed the drawing inside, secured the back, and propped it up on the counter.
Zhou Momo stood beside him, watching him work.
"Should I leave it here, or hang it on the wall upstairs for you?" Zhou Yan asked.
"On the wall!" Zhou Momo said without hesitation.
Zhou Yan found a nail, went upstairs with a hammer, and hung the drawing for Zhou Momo in the second-floor living room.
’He hung it at a height of about one meter. Later, I’ll put a small table here. If she sits here to draw, the height will be just right.’
Once on the wall, it added a splash of color to the otherwise plain white wall. It looked quite nice.
"Brother, what about the sky Yaoyao drew last time?" Zhou Momo asked, looking back at him.
"She drew that one for me. I’m not hanging it up," Zhou Yan said.
"Hmph. Stingy Brother," Zhou Momo pouted.
"I bought you drawing paper. From now on, you can use your crayons on paper." Zhou Yan handed her the newly bought paper.
Zhou Momo took it, looking from side to side in disbelief. Then she looked up at Zhou Yan. "It’s so white! And so big! Brother, is this really for me?"
"Of course. Draw whatever you want. When you run out, your brother will buy you more," Zhou Yan said, smiling as he pinched her chubby little cheeks. "But I have one condition: if you draw on the paper, you’re not allowed to scribble on the walls anymore, okay?"
"Mhm!" Zhou Momo nodded eagerly, already rushing downstairs with the paper, impatient to start drawing.
Zhou Yan put the letter away in his box. When he came downstairs, he saw Zhou Momo sitting primly at a table, a crayon in her hand, drawing on the paper with great concentration.
Regardless of how the drawing turned out, the smile on her face and the sparkle in her eyes didn’t lie. She was very happy and loved her gift.
’Xia Yao is so thoughtful. She went out of her way to buy and mail crayons for Zhou Momo just because of a drawing.’
’As her older brother, the thought had never even crossed my mind. I just figured she was perfectly happy drawing in the sand by the door with a little stick every day.’
After closing up for the night, Zhou Yan first went for a run with Lin, then came back and took stock of the reservations for the next day.
There were nine tables reserved. The largest party was a table for nine, while the others were mostly gatherings of three to five people.
Not bad. It wasn’t as explosive as he’d anticipated, but it was still enough to fill half the restaurant.
According to Zhou Yan’s plan, the reservation limit for the weekend lunch service was nineteen tables. Capping it by the number of tables would guarantee that guests would have a seat as soon as they arrived, with no waiting, thus ensuring a good dining experience for those hosting meals.
In any case, since he was only open for one meal and the menu wasn’t complete, the revenue would surely be lower than usual. So, the main focus was on building a good reputation, not on how much money they could make.
The table for nine was booked by Zhao Dong, and they had ordered six dishes.
He had originally wanted Zhou Yan to make his braised specialties, but Zhou Yan had politely declined.
With only sixty guests in total, making a batch of braised foods would mean having to sell it for the rest of the day.
After lunch service ended tomorrow, he planned to take his parents and Zhou Momo on a trip to Jiazhou City to buy some things.
The door had been installed that afternoon. He’d also hired Master Zhang to build an additional stove in the kitchen specifically for braising, right next to the old one and built to the same specifications.
The braising pot they currently had in the restaurant was big enough for their daily sales. If they braised another pot in the afternoon, they could double their production capacity.
However, Zhou Yan started to consider selling braised vegetables.
Braised lotus root slices, braised potatoes, braised bean curd skin, braised bamboo shoots... The possibilities were endless.
Zhou Yan himself was quite fond of braised lotus root and potatoes. Now that the braised pork series had stabilized, he was planning to get a pot and test the waters with braised vegetables.
Compared to meat, the cost of vegetables was so much lower.
’How much do lotus root and potatoes cost per pound?’
’After braising them, wouldn’t the price increase several times over?’
’Even if I sell them cheap, the profit margin would be quite substantial.’
"I’ve made the beds. We’re sleeping in the new room tonight, so you get your own room back," Mrs. Zhao said with a smile as she came downstairs to find Zhou Yan.