Chapter 6

Li Wanzhen washed her face and started preparing breakfast. Qian Jianing cleaned the meat and asked Li Wanzhen for a large cutting board, which she placed on the big table in the courtyard. She first diced a piece of meat and then began mincing it for filling.

At first, Li Wanzhen thought Qian Jianing’s enthusiasm would last no more than three minutes. Once her hands got tired and her arms sore, she would probably give up on the whole idea of running a small business. While Li Wanzhen was in the kitchen preparing the lunch she would bring to work, she also made a bowl of egg paste to go with noodles. By the time she finished everything, it dawned on her that the sound of mincing meat outside hadn’t stopped at all. In a hurry, she wiped her hands and called her husband and son to wake up, then turned and opened the door to call Qian Jianing for breakfast.

As soon as she opened the door, Li Wanzhen was stunned by the sight of Qian Jianing wielding two kitchen knives, one in each hand, like drumsticks. She was mincing the meat with quick and rhythmic motions, producing a deep, steady beat.

Qian Jianing put the minced meat into a basin beside her, picked up another piece of meat, and while cutting it into chunks, looked up and smiled at Li Wanzhen. “Mom, is Jiafeng up yet? If not, let him stay with me today. It’s not a good idea for him to keep tagging along with you to work.”

“Oh my goodness, be careful with your hands,” Li Wanzhen gasped in fright, hurrying over. “Your dad just sharpened those knives; they’re really sharp.”

Hearing her mother’s concerned tone warmed Qian Jianing’s heart, and her smile grew even sweeter. Li Wanzhen looked at the two large porcelain basins on the table—one filled with radish filling and the other half full of meat—and was surprised.

“You minced all this? Aren’t your arms sore?” she asked. “Let mom help you. You should take a break.”

Only then did Qian Jianing realize that in her previous life, when making dumplings, she would need to rest three or five times just to get through mincing filling once. But now, she had almost finished chopping ten pounds of meat and didn’t feel sore at all. Clearly, the porridge made by Food Elder was incredibly effective. When Li Wanzhen reached for the knife in her hand, Qian Jianing pulled back slightly and pushed the filling back into the basin. “Mom, let me do it. You still have to head to work soon.”

Li Wanzhen glanced at the watch on her wrist—she indeed had less than an hour before leaving—but seeing the amount of meat filling made her uneasy. She feared that good ingredients might be wasted. Looking at the two large pools of radish filling, she sighed deeply. “Tell me, girl, what exactly are you planning to sell? It’s hot these days, the meat filling won’t keep. If you don’t sell it all today, it’ll spoil by tomorrow.”

“I know, I’ll just go to a couple more places today. Don’t worry.” Qian Jianing chopped quickly, her hands a blur. She soon finished cutting and began seasoning the fillings.

Although living conditions in the late 1980s had improved compared to previous years, people’s habits hadn’t changed much. Most still preferred boiled meatballs rather than fried ones. After decades of hardship, just being able to stir-fry with oil was already a luxury. Using half a pan of oil to deep-fry things was considered wasteful and a sign of someone who couldn’t manage a household properly.

Today, Qian Jianing planned to sell fried meatballs with two flavors: one was radish meatballs, and the other was meatballs made with egg and tofu. She prepared bowls of each filling, took them into the kitchen, and poured the oil leftover from frying French fries yesterday into the pan. Once the oil was at medium heat, she scooped the meat mix with one hand and formed it into round balls with a spoon, dropping them one by one into the pan.

Li Wanzhen stood at the kitchen door with her mouth agape again. Just a few days ago, her daughter could only cook noodles—how had she learned to make fried meatballs already? The progress was unreal.

Once the first batch was done, Qian Jianing used a slotted spoon to take them out and waited for the oil to heat up again for a second round. Qian Jiafeng emerged groggily from the house, heading for the sink, but was drawn to the kitchen by the enticing aroma. He stared wide-eyed, “What smells so good?”

Seeing the golden brown meatballs, Qian Jianing smiled at him. “Go brush your teeth and wash your face. Fried meatballs are ready soon.”

That line worked better than an imperial edict—Qian Jiafeng dashed off to the bathroom. By the time Qian Jianing brought the meatballs to the table, he came flying out again.

“You brushed your teeth in thirty seconds?” Qian Jianing asked skeptically.

Qian Jiafeng ignored the question, picked up a meatball with chopsticks, and popped it into his mouth. The freshly fried ball burned his tongue, but the crisp texture and savory taste made him unwilling to spit it out.

After puffing a few times to cool it down, he chewed eagerly and swallowed with a happy face. “Sis, this is amazing! A hundred times better than mom’s New Year meatballs!”

Li Wanzhen also picked up a glossy meatball, gently blew on it, cautiously took a bite—and her eyes widened. Crispy and crunchy, crispy outside and tender inside, flavorful but not greasy—it was truly delicious.

After swallowing, she looked at Qian Jianing in amazement. “Where did you learn this? I didn’t know you had these skills.”

Qian Jianing pointed to the recipe book on the shelf. “That outdated book they sell at ten cents a copy. It’s got detailed steps—I just followed them.”

“My girl can make such good fried meatballs just by reading a recipe? You’re really gifted.” Qian Guosheng beamed as he chewed. “Everything my daughter makes is tasty.”

Qian Jianing smiled, feeling genuinely happy watching her family enjoy the meal. Nothing meant more than seeing their smiling faces. She picked another meatball for Qian Guosheng, snuggled up to his arm, and said, “Tonight I’ll fry a big plate of meatballs for you and get two bottles of beer—so you and mom can enjoy a little drink.”

“Sounds great!” Qian Guosheng grinned from ear to ear. “I’ll wait for my daughter to earn money and buy me booze!”

Time was tight in the morning, so after cleaning up, Li Wanzhen and Qian Guosheng rushed off to work. Qian Jianing got the two types of fillings ready at home, put a sun hat on Jiafeng, and took him out.

She went back to the spot she’d used the day before. Maybe it was the French fries and steamed mashed potatoes from then—many kids had already gathered at the spot when she arrived.

As she unloaded her tricycle, the children swarmed around, asking excitedly, “Big sister, are you frying French fries again today?”

“Not today,” Qian Jianing smiled as she lit the stove. “But today I have fried meatballs—they’re even tastier than fries.”

Helping carry things, Jiafeng nodded eagerly, “Super tasty! I had a big bowl this morning—nothing beats these meatballs.”

Though a little disappointed there were no fries, the allure of fried meatballs was strong. The kids surrounded the stall, craning their necks to watch Qian Jianing cook.

Once the fire was hot, she poured the reused oil into two pots. She’d insisted reused oil wasn’t healthy and wanted to change it daily—but oil wasn’t cheap, and some homes still rendered their own from pork fat. Treasure Bowl couldn’t bear to see money wasted, so he crafted a funnel from an old medicine bottle with fine mesh. Pouring the used oil back through it into the bucket made it look bright and clean again, with impurities filtered out—a healthy solution.

The first batch of meatballs was ready, and the rich aroma filled the air. The kids soon forgot all about the fries they’d talked about all night. Their eyes sparkled as they stared at the bowl of meatballs. The tempting smell also slowed nearby adults, who stopped to see what was cooking.

“Fresh and crispy fried meatballs! Delicious and affordable—come buy some!” Qian Jianing made her meatballs hearty, using a mix of 40% fat and 60% lean meat, perfectly blended with radish. The veggie balls had egg and tofu, resulting in a soft, fragrant bite. She picked a few and handed one to each child for sampling.

As soon as the kids stuffed them in their mouths, their eyes lit up. Puffing to cool them while chewing, they quickly dug into their pockets. Most had only thirty or fifty cents at most, the richer ones at most one yuan. But Qian Jianing didn’t mind—she sold even small portions, half a pound or just a few ounces. Soon, the first batch sold out.

One pound of fried meatballs didn’t yield much. Kids who had bought too little found themselves out after a bite or two. Unable to resist, they ran home—some to crack open piggy banks, some begging adults, and others dragging their grandparents over.

“Just finished breakfast, what meatballs again?” the elders muttered. But once they smelled the aroma, they all opened their wallets. Kids went off happy with their meatballs, and a few elderly chess-players from the neighborhood came too—each buying a pound to snack on during games.

By around 10 a.m., the crowd thinned. Qian Jianing knew she’d have about thirty minutes of rest before lunch break brought even more customers.

She gave Qian Jiafeng some coins and sent him to the corner shop for food and drinks. He ran off gleefully and came back with four packs of instant noodles and some soda, proudly showing off. “Instant noodles! I smelled Wang Xiaoqing eating them next door the other day. Smelled amazing.”

She pulled out a small pot and poured water from her big tank. As it heated, she tore open the noodle packs. The old lady living across the street on the ground floor saw her and brought over a handful of freshly washed greens. “My grandson’s been enjoying your treats lately. Add these to the noodles for flavor.”

Qian Jianing thanked her and offered some meatballs in return, but the lady waved her off. “It’s meat and oil—must have cost you. Better keep them to sell.”

She sprinkled the greens over the bubbling noodles. Once cooked, she gave Jiafeng a full bowl and topped it with ten meatballs. His face lit up as he ate.

After lunch, they got back to work. Things remained busy until about one o’clock, when crowds began to disappear. Qian Jianing packed up, planning to sell the remaining filling near her home in the afternoon.

And so, over half a month passed in a blur. In Zibo City, several residential compounds near work units came to know of a young woman selling snacks. Sometimes she sold fried meatballs, fries, and pop chicken; other days it was buns, wontons, or shao mai; still others it was various deli-style braised foods. Her offerings changed daily, but she cooked everything well. Prices were slightly above average, but once people had her food, ordinary vendors just couldn’t compare.

Regulars couldn’t help but ask, “Xiaomi girl, what are you selling tomorrow?”

She’d always shake her head, looking conflicted. “Hard to say. Depends what page of the recipe book I turn to tonight.”

Within just a month, Qian Jianing earned a thousand yuan—equal to Li Wanzhen’s one and a half years of salary. While thrilled for her daughter, Li Wanzhen also worried this might distract her from school. Luckily, no matter how busy or tired, Qian Jianing still studied and did homework for two hours every night. Her dedication put Li Wanzhen at ease.

As Qian Jianing immersed herself in this fulfilling routine, her fiancé Chen Kai, having been stood up multiple times, finally grew anxious. After drinking with his buddies one night, he stumbled to her courtyard and started imitating a cat’s meow, in a high-pitched voice.