Chapter 49

That evening, Qian Jianing saw her guests off, then pulled a thick stack of cash from the drawer. She counted it—just over ten thousand. Her excitement was instant; she almost wanted to kiss the golden bracelet of the Fortune Boy in gratitude. This thing was way too effective—so many well-off food lovers had just happened to pass by her little shop, giving her a booming start on opening day.

There was no need to clean the kitchen either. With practiced ease, Qian Jianing shoved the used dishes into the cabinet. Before she could even step out, every room in the courtyard compound was already spotless. She checked all the doors and windows, secured the main entrance, then walked to the back courtyard and pressed a switch. Instantly, the lanterns in the main yard went out.

Qian Jianing smiled with satisfaction. “Electric lanterns are the best—no fire hazard, and they save electricity.”

The Treasure Bowl spoke in a muffled tone, “Next time, we should suggest to Food Elder to include a lantern function in the kitchen setup—use consciousness to control the switch and put a fluorescent stone from the Tianhe River inside. That would save even more on power.”

Qian Jianing gave a big thumbs-up. When it came to saving money, the Treasure Bowl was always the master.

The back courtyard still relied on lanterns for lighting. After locking the small wooden door, Qian Jianing pressed a switch beside it, and the lanterns lining the cobblestone path lit up. Humming a tune and holding the “four heads” in her hand, she entered the house.

After changing shoes at the door, she turned on the living room lights. Looking around at the neat and beautiful home lifted her mood. In her previous life, she’d worked hard for decades and had mostly lived in rented places—moving frequently, always hunting for affordable but decent housing. Deep down, she’d developed a strong attachment to having her own home.

Now, she finally had one. She could nap on a rocking chair in the afternoon, read in her study at night, and tend to flowers in the courtyard. Everything felt perfect.

Back in the master bedroom, Qian Jianing filled the bathtub with hot water and relaxed in it, thinking about the restaurant. When she’d run a shop in Zibo City, she only had a single room with ten tables. Customers helped themselves or did some of the serving, and that worked fine. But that approach clearly wouldn’t work in the Imperial Capital. Here, every private room was a suite, and her prices were twice what they were in Zibo. Asking customers to carry their own food wasn’t realistic. But serving every dish herself took too much time. Today alone, she’d lost count of how many times she went in and out of the kitchen. If more guests came, she wouldn’t be able to handle it. She’d have to hire two waitstaff to handle those chores while she focused on cooking.

After her bath, wrapped in a towel, Qian Jianing pulled a hair dryer from the drawer and started drying her hair. When she’d first moved in, the hair dryer had surprised her. Later, she saw on the inventory list Li Menglong had left that this kind of daily-use appliance was part of the fully furnished package. Besides the hair dryer, there was also a washing machine, fridge, fan, and TV. Just those items alone would cost quite a bit. Her 30,000 yuan had definitely been well spent.

Letting her long hair fall down her back, Qian Jianing lay on the soft, comfortable bed, hugged her quilt, and turned over—instantly entering that mysterious little room again. No one had been teaching her lately, but some books left by previous mentors remained. Qian Jianing had made a habit of using dream time to study and recharge.

When she’d earned her first 100,000 yuan, she drew a second-prize reward package that let her choose two skills. She picked medicine and metaphysical fate studies. The latter was taught by an immortal known as “Master of the Divine Class.” He didn’t follow the usual rules and told Qian Jianing outright that if she wanted to learn, she had to master it thoroughly.

Fate studies were already esoteric by nature. Even with her mind opened and her intelligence boosted, it took Qian Jianing half a year to finish the course. Her gifted reward was the Heavenly Eye, which let her see a person’s fate and past clearly. Now, whenever she used it, she had to consider in advance which version to activate—seeing someone’s bone structure versus seeing their fortune were very different experiences. The wrong choice could give her a fright.

The more she studied metaphysics, the more fascinating and addictive she found it. She read all night without realizing it. When the alarm rang, Qian Jianing exited the little room, opened her eyes, and felt refreshed. It seemed her body remained fully rested even as she studied and worked in the dream, so it didn’t affect her state the next day.

After washing up, she wrote two job ads—one posted outside the alley and one beside her front gate. She decided her private kitchen wouldn’t serve breakfast anymore, only operating from 11 a.m. to 1 p.m., and 6 p.m. to 9 p.m.

After breakfast, she sang some Peking opera in the courtyard. Around ten o’clock, Jin Yongxu finally came out, swaying leisurely in a silk shirt and waving a folding fan. Mondays were his meet-up days with fellow gourmets. Everyone would share food discoveries from the past week and go taste them together. Whoever found the best flavors would be crowned the week’s top gourmand.

They met at a teahouse in Houhai, known for its excellent tea sourced through private channels. The taste, brewed with care, was even better. The teahouse also served small snacks to accompany the tea, which were surprisingly good.

When Jin Yongxu arrived, three people were already there. They all laughed when they saw him, “Knew you’d be late—we already ordered a few cakes for you.”

Jin Yongxu thanked them and picked up a lotus seed cake he used to love. But after two bites, he couldn’t help but think of that little steamed dumpling from yesterday. No matter how he tried, the lotus seed cake now seemed bland. He set it aside with a sigh.

“What’s wrong? Doesn’t suit your taste anymore?” Zhang Chenghai asked, fanning himself lazily as he gazed out the window at Houhai. “These lotus seeds are the freshest from Houhai.”

Jin Yongxu took a sip of tea and sighed. “I used to think this cake was great. But yesterday, I found a private kitchen that served such incredible dishes… I didn’t even try their desserts, but just thinking about the flavors of the food made this cake seem tasteless.”

Zhang Chenghai raised an eyebrow, still fanning. “I bet it’s not as good as the place I found. Just the day before yesterday, I discovered a Wuxi cuisine spot near the Summer Palace—authentic as can be. I was planning to take you all.”

Just then, a skinny old man walked in, leaning on a cane and smiling. “Starting the recommendations without this old man, eh?”

“Just chatting, Elder Wang—come in quickly. We already ordered your favorite Biluochun tea.”

With all five present, Elder Wang began. “I searched around this week and found nothing outstanding—until I tried a crab dish cooked in wine at a friend’s home. The crab was tender, the aroma of the wine perfectly infused. Quite amazing. But sadly, I can’t invite you to try it.”

Everyone shared their picks. Zhang Chenghai recommended the Wuxi restaurant, Li Yulin suggested a small eatery’s candied pork head, and Zhang Jimin praised a floral-themed restaurant: wisteria blossom cakes, fried honeysuckle, crispy magnolia petals, and bamboo fungus jasmine soup—delicate and flavorful.

When it was Jin Yongxu’s turn, he set down his teacup. “There’s a newly opened private kitchen in an alley not far from here. The owner is a young woman—probably about twenty…”

Before he could finish, Zhang Chenghai laughed. “Come on, Jin, a twenty-year-old girl? Can she even lift a wok, let alone cook a decent dish?”

Elder Wang added, “So young—how many years could she have even studied cooking? How good could it be?”

“It was really good!” Jin Yongxu smiled. “You all know my tastes. I’ve eaten my way across the country for years. But not until I tasted her food did I understand what real gourmet cuisine is.”

His words stunned the others. They knew Jin Yongxu had tried countless delicacies, but he’d never praised any restaurant or dish this highly—not once. This was a first.

“Really that good?” Zhang Chenghai tapped his fan on his hand, curiosity lighting up his face. “Why don’t we try it at lunch? We’ll know soon enough.”

“Sure!” Jin Yongxu grinned. “But did you bring enough money? Just so you know, I can’t afford to treat this time—my meal alone yesterday cost 300 yuan!”

“So expensive? That’s enough to cover two or three months of living expenses for ordinary folks!” Several people widened their eyes. “There aren’t many places in Imperial Capital where you’d spend three hundred yuan per person—this newly opened place is really daring with its prices!”

Jin Yongxu laughed. “Doesn’t that just show they’re confident? Besides, their positioning is private dining, not meant for the general public. Only people like us foodies or some trend-chasing big bosses would dare give it a try.” In this day and age, becoming a big boss was easy, but few dared call themselves true gourmets. Generally, those who could be called gourmets shared two traits: they had money and time, and could talk knowledgeably about any dish.

The more they listened, the more intrigued they became. Seeing that it was already past eleven, they simply decided to follow Jin Yongxu and check out this private kitchen to see what it was all about.

Not long after Qian Jianing posted her job notice, people started applying. The hours at the private kitchen were short—just five hours total between lunch and dinner—but the salary was comparable to what factory workers earned. This kind of high-pay, low-effort job attracted a lot of attention. Every woman nearby who heard about it came to apply.

Qian Jianing didn’t need people to sweep, wash dishes, or clean the yard. So even though many women in their forties and fifties kept insisting they were hardworking, Qian Jianing didn’t choose them. Instead, she turned her attention to the young girls nearby. Ever since learning fortune-telling and physiognomy, she had developed the habit of assessing people’s character by their appearance. She avoided those who seemed malicious, vain, or overly cunning. From the remaining candidates, she picked two girls who looked pleasant, spoke crisply, and dressed neatly.

The two girls were named Li Xiaoyu and Wang Yahan. When they heard they were hired, they were overjoyed and immediately looked for tools to clean. But after circling the main hall, they found it spotless—there wasn’t even a speck of dust to wipe. New employees fear having nothing to do more than being too busy. Seeing Qian Jianing working alone in the kitchen, they suddenly felt awkward and unsure of what to do.

After wrapping up a batch of shumai, Qian Jianing looked up and glanced at them. “Your job is just to take orders, serve dishes, and clear the tables. You don’t need to worry about anything else.”

“That’s it?” The two exchanged glances, feeling a bit guilty. Just for serving food and clearing tables, they were getting a hundred yuan a month? The boss was too kind. Maybe they should find something else to do—after all, it didn’t feel right to earn so much for being idle. So they went around rearranging the chairs, ensuring the space between each was within five centimeters. Qian Jianing let them fuss around while she placed the shumai into the steamer and started the timer.

At eleven o’clock, the alarm rang. Qian Jianing looked at Wang Yahan. “Go open the front gate.” She then loaded the steamed shumai onto a large tray and called over Li Xiaoyu. “Take these to the street outside the alley. Give one to anyone who wants a sample. Try not to let the same person take more than once—let more people try.”

Li Xiaoyu nodded and carried the tray out. Since there were no firecrackers marking the opening today, the neighbors didn’t know this pricey little shop was giving out samples again. Most of the shumai ended up in the hands of passersby.

“Ding-a-ling…” The crisp sound of wind chimes rang—customers had arrived. From the kitchen, Qian Jianing looked out and saw many unfamiliar faces. She breathed a sigh of relief. As long as new people came in, she was confident she could turn them into regulars.

When Jin Yongxu and his group arrived at Qian Xiaomi’s private kitchen, it was already eleven-thirty. Li Xiaoyu, who was serving in the main hall, hurried over and greeted them respectfully. “Good afternoon, gentlemen. The main hall is full. Would you mind sitting in a private room?”

It was easier to talk in a private room anyway, so they headed to the east wing and picked a room with a window view of the courtyard. Jin Yongxu had been here the day before and was already familiar with the place. He explained to his friends, “You can order à la carte, or choose a set menu by per-person pricing. The set menu portions are smaller, but you get more variety.”

Everyone had come to try something new, so naturally they opted for the set. Jin Yongxu nodded at Li Xiaoyu. “Five people, one-thousand-yuan set. Also, tell your little boss that we definitely want the rice we had yesterday.”

Qian Jianing had set a super-premium pricing tier for her private kitchen in Imperial Capital—one that would still be considered expensive even twenty years later. But she believed her skills and ingredients justified it. Those with discerning taste would find it worthwhile. She was targeting the high-end market, aiming to capture elite diners.

Li Xiaoyu counted the stack of bills several times before stepping out. To be honest, the biggest note she’d ever touched before was the large-format yuan. She’d only seen a hundred-yuan bill a couple of times—never held one. Today had truly opened her eyes.

Li Xiaoyu was an ordinary girl from Imperial Capital, living in a courtyard with her parents, brother, and sister-in-law. They used to all sleep in one room. When her brother got married, there was no longer space, so her father built a small shack by the wall. Open the door, and there was just a bed inside—not even room to move around.

In her experience, a hundred yuan could cover the family’s monthly expenses. If it was summer when vegetables were cheap, they might even save some. But now, she was seeing a meal that cost more than that for just one person. The contrast left her stunned.

Holding the money carefully, Li Xiaoyu put it into the cashbox in front of Qian Jianing, then said with her notebook, “Boss, East Wing Plum Room, five-person set, one thousand yuan. The customer asked for the same rice as yesterday.”

Qian Jianing smiled slightly. “A true connoisseur.” Then she picked up a sea bass delivered by Xiantao.com, scaled it, gutted it, and placed it in the steamer. Ten minutes later, the first dish—steamed sea bass—arrived at Plum Room.

When Li Xiaoyu announced “steamed sea bass” at the door, Elder Wang and Zhang Chenghai looked a little disappointed. Steamed fish depends mostly on freshness. As long as the fish is fresh and not overcooked, it’s hard to mess up. In their minds, it was a low-skill dish.

Li Xiaoyu didn’t understand all that. She carefully placed the fish on the table and stepped out. Jin Yongxu, who had tasted Qian Jianing’s food yesterday, had complete faith in her skills. After making a “please” gesture, he picked up a piece of fish with broth and popped it into his mouth.

As soon as the fish touched his tongue, his mind filled with two words: fresh, tender.

He had eaten plenty of steamed fish before, of all kinds—including sea bass—but never one so delicate, so flavorful. The sauce was exceptional too: it enhanced the taste without overwhelming the fish. It was the perfect finishing touch.

Everyone dug in. As soon as the fish entered their mouths, the room fell silent. No one wanted to talk. They were all thinking the same thing: how could a steamed fish taste this tender and delicious?

The fish weighed just one jin (half a kilo). In minutes, five people had picked it clean—even the head was taken apart, leaving only a long spine on the plate.

“Yongxu sure found a great place,” Elder Wang said, sipping some warm water. “I’ve lived seventy years and never had sea bass this tender. I wonder where this shop’s owner gets her fish.”

“The key is the sauce—savory and clear, it enhances the flavor without stealing the spotlight. It’s better than any steamed fish I’ve had before.”

A trace of pride flashed across Jin Yongxu’s face. “Told you I know where to eat.”
—

After half a month of work, the day for registration finally arrived. Qian Jianing exchanged a variable-speed bicycle from the Treasure Bowl. It looked like any ordinary bike, but its speed could be changed at will. With one pedal, it could take you three and a half meters—or ten kilometers. Truly a magical tool for travel.

On her first day reporting in, Qian Jianing only carried a backpack containing her admission letter, ID card, and household registration. The registration office was set up in the school’s main administration building. She waited ten minutes in line, then handed over her documents when it was her turn. “Hello, teacher. I’m here to register.”

The teacher in charge of registration took the admission letter, glanced at it, then suddenly stood up, shouting excitedly, “The top scorer in the province who didn’t choose Imperial Capital University or Tsinghua University but instead came to our school—Qian Jianing is here to register!”

The old office wasn’t soundproof, and Qian Jianing watched helplessly as a group of teachers came out from various offices and surrounded her.

Qian Jianing looked stunned—was she being gawked at?