Chapter 14

Treasure Bowl was just like Doraemon, his two chubby little hands rummaging inside the pouch on his belly and fishing out a fingernail-sized model of a house. He looked at the item in his hand with reluctance and sighed mournfully, “I won this from Food Elder back in the day when we were playing Landlord.”

Qian Jianing looked at the golden, glowing trinket in his hands and asked a bit guiltily, “Is this treasure very valuable? Maybe I should draw again instead.”

As soon as she said that, Treasure Bowl’s expression changed instantly: “Forget it, don’t even think about trading this priceless street junk for my other treasures.” As if afraid Qian Jianing would say more, he flipped his hand and tossed the model into the kitchen. Qian Jianing opened her eyes and glanced around the kitchen once more.

Actually, there seemed to be no real changes. Everything was the same—nothing was added or taken away. Well, there were some differences. Qian Jianing noticed that the suffocating heat had quietly disappeared at some point. The sweat on her forehead gradually dried, and the room became pleasantly comfortable.

Treasure Bowl’s voice echoed in her mind: “This was just a little gadget Food Elder casually made back in the day—not worth much, but quite fun. The model’s already automatically applied to your entire shop. The temperature, humidity, plants, and everything else inside can now be controlled according to your will.”

Qian Jianing opened the door and walked into the main dining area. The floor was covered in footprints and grime. She closed her eyes and silently whispered something in her mind. When she opened them again, she saw the floors and tables sparkling clean—as spotless and shiny as if untouched.

“Amazing,” Qian Jianing couldn’t help but grin. “This really saves me the trouble. Otherwise, I was seriously considering hiring a waiter just to clean up and clear dishes.”

Seeing that she wouldn’t have to pay for labor, Treasure Bowl puffed up with pride. “Of course. It may be a simple gadget, but after all, it was made by Food Elder—there’s always something special about it. But those little functions are just side perks. Its main feature is in the kitchen,” he explained. “The cupboard at the back of the kitchen has turned into an automatic dishwashing unit. Just toss in dirty plates, bowls, used pans, and knives—give it ten minutes and everything will be spotlessly clean. To prevent customers or your family from discovering anything unusual…” Treasure Bowl clapped his hands, and a screen dropped from the ceiling, completely obscuring the cupboard. “I’ll throw in a screen for free.”

Qian Jianing opened the cupboard and made several trips, loading in the dishes, bowls, utensils from the sink, as well as the steamer and mixing bowls. After closing the cupboard door, she took a deep breath. When she opened it again, every piece was neatly arranged and gleaming like new.

Eyes tearing up in joy, Qian Jianing exclaimed, “At last, I’m free from the nightmare of washing dishes!”

“Also, the cabinets along the wall can automatically adjust their temperature according to your needs—hot or cold, your choice. They’re better than any refrigerator,” Treasure Bowl continued smugly. “The entire restaurant now has its own air circulation system, keeping the temperature at a pleasant twenty-three degrees all year round. To make sure outside noises don’t influence your cooking mood, the kitchen is even equipped with a noise cancellation device.”

Only then did Qian Jianing realize that the vent fan which had always been humming loudly had gone completely quiet. She turned to see the vent on the back wall of the kitchen still spinning nonstop, but without making a sound.

“There’s also an in-built freshness system in the kitchen to keep all your ingredients at their peak freshness—no worries about hot or cold weather spoiling your food.”

Qian Jianing arched an eyebrow. “That means I could prep the breakfast items at night and not have to wake up so early in the morning.”

“Absolutely. The food will stay exactly how you made it. Also, the vegetable washing sink can clean ingredients automatically—only takes a minute to remove all dust, fertilizers, pesticides, leaving nothing but the pure taste of the food itself.” Treasure Bowl stretched lazily. “Everything here is under your control. Only when you personally operate the devices can they function—ensuring ordinary folks don’t notice anything unusual.”

Hearing this, Qian Jianing nodded. After all, this era was nothing like the future—smart homes barely existed. If things appeared too strange, others might suspect something.

However, there was still something that could easily raise suspicion. Qian Jianing quickly called out to Treasure Bowl, “It’s too cool in the dining area—way too obvious in the summer.”

Treasure Bowl wiggled a finger, and an air conditioner appeared in the corner of the wall. Qian Jianing jumped up in excitement the moment she saw it: “These machines cost over four grand right now!”

“You think I’d waste money to buy you an air conditioner? Dream on!” Treasure Bowl sneered. “It’s just an illusion, to fool people. Besides, air conditioners consume power—electricity costs money!”

Qian Jianing immediately shut her mouth. After spending this much time together, she’d figured out Treasure Bowl’s personality—anything that involved spending money was, in his eyes, a mortal sin! Wasteful! Unforgivable!

***

Qian Jiafeng, munching on a popsicle, finished his homework and glanced at the clock on the table. It was already eleven. He stretched and picked up a number card sign, ready to start handing out queue numbers.

Qian Jianing’s restaurant had become the talk of the street in just a few hours. The neighbors were all curious—how delicious could her food really be, if people were willing to queue up for an hour or two early in the morning just for a bite of her baozi? The scene was impressive enough to rival the grand opening of a KFC in the Imperial Capital.

Apparently, Qian Jianing’s talents weren’t limited to breakfast. Despite it being only a little past ten, people with umbrellas and folding stools had already begun lining up. Unlike the older crowd that came for breakfast, lunchtime brought more families.

On Dongyi Street, many households had two working parents. With incomes nearing two hundred yuan a month and the one-child policy in effect, most families weren’t rich but could still afford to dine out occasionally. Curious to see whether the girl they watched grow up could really cook that well, they all came to line up.

At the other end of the street, the owner of Meiwei Restaurant, Zhao Dazhuang, clenched a cigarette between his lips and glared bitterly at the long queue forming outside Qian Xiaomi’s shop. His eyes were filled with resentment. Zhao Dazhuang was a shrewd businessman. Not long after the reform and opening up, he started small trade ventures and made some money before learning culinary skills and opening Meiwei Restaurant.

Although not massive, Meiwei Restaurant had a decent courtyard and indoor space to accommodate ten round tables. It was a sizeable private restaurant. Local residents often held celebrations, birthday parties for the elderly, gatherings, or business dinners here—cheaper and more convenient than state-run establishments.

But most people still preferred to dine at home. Unless it was a holiday or special occasion, it was rare for families to go out for lunch. As a result, business at Meiwei Restaurant only picked up during dinner time and weekends. On normal weekdays, lunch traffic was minimal—one or two tables at most.

Zhao Dazhuang’s home was three blocks away. He and his wife usually bought the day’s meat and vegetables around ten o’clock and rode a tricycle over. So they had no idea what had happened that morning. Now, seeing the long line across the street, Zhao Dazhuang’s face darkened. He stomped on his cigarette and turned to open the door, calling out to his wife, who was doing the books with an abacus: “Go take a look at that new restaurant. What, are they giving out free food for opening day?”

Li Hong walked out in confusion, but when she saw the crowd, her expression changed instantly. “Why are there so many people?”

Zhao Dazhuang glared at her impatiently. “Didn’t I tell you to go find out?”

Seeing her husband’s bad mood, Li Hong kept quiet and scurried over. Next to Qian Xiaomi’s shop were not just customers with number tags waiting in the shade, but neighbors basking under the glaring sun just to gawk at the spectacle.

Li Hong scanned the crowd until she spotted a familiar face. She hurried over and tugged secretly on her sleeve. The woman turned and, grasping the situation immediately, followed her a few steps away.

Li Hong pulled a handful of sunflower seeds from her bag and offered some to the woman. She took a handful for herself and began shelling them as she asked, “Sister Zhang, what’s going on with the old Qian family’s restaurant? How come there are so many people on the first day? Is it free?”

“Free? No way. I heard it’s pricey,” the woman, Sister Zhang, replied while cracking seeds. She then recounted the morning’s spectacle: “I heard people started lining up around five in the morning. When I opened my door at six, there were already fifty or sixty people outside. That Qian boy said his sister sells baozi—three yuan a basket, only ten pieces. Smaller than half the ones we usually eat.”

Li Hong felt conflicted. Considering they were small and expensive but still in such demand, there was only one explanation: “Her baozi must be really delicious?”

“Smelled great. Even Old Zhao the bun seller tried one and said it was good.”

“But…” Li Hong still didn’t get it. “If she just opened, how did so many people already know her baozi was delicious?”

“Oh, I asked those people earlier. They said that Xiaomi girl had been setting up a street stall selling food a while ago. These customers got hooked and came here,” Sister Zhang explained, then muttered, “Can that little girl’s cooking really taste better than what we’ve been making our whole lives?”

Li Hong’s mind was in turmoil. She couldn’t eat another seed. The more people she saw coming to grab number cards, the more uneasy she became. If this trend continued, it’d only be a matter of time before their own restaurant went under.

She turned quickly and headed back—she had to talk this over with her husband and come up with a plan.