Chapter 23

With balanced nutrition in mind, the children's breakfast included a boiled egg, while the old director and the volunteer aunties had to start eating potatoes in the morning.

When Tao Yan entered the kitchen, he saw Aunt Yao, who was cooking, placing washed potatoes into an iron pot to steam. Tao Yan had never seen potatoes prepared this way before, and a flicker of surprise appeared on his face. "You can steam potatoes and eat them directly?"

"Of course you can. It's just like steaming sweet potatoes. During famine years, these were good things that could fill your stomach." Aunt Yao smiled. Seeing Tao Yan's slightly speechless expression, she added, "But don't worry, you children have eggs to eat. You're still growing, so you need to eat better if you want to grow tall."

"Won't eating potatoes like this give you heartburn?" Huo Baichuan had woken up too. Rubbing his eyes and yawning, he trailed behind Tao Yan, equally unable to accept such rough food.

"We're used to it." Aunt Zhao smiled. "We've eaten like this for most of our lives. How could we be that delicate?"

Besides, even if it really did cause heartburn, a couple bites of salted pickled vegetables would settle it. It wouldn't affect anything.

Tao Yan sighed softly, walked over to the stove, and took the potatoes out of the iron pot. "Go mix some batter," he said to Huo Baichuan.

Huo Baichuan's eyes lit up. "Are we making potato pancakes?"

Tao Yan gave a sound of agreement, washed his hands again out of habit, then picked up a potato and began peeling it.

The volunteer aunties exchanged looks. Still shaken by the memory, Aunt Zhao asked, "Tao Yan, what delicious thing are you making this time? Does it use much oil?"

"Fried potato pancakes," Tao Yan said flatly. He had already peeled the potatoes and shredded them into a pile, then chopped some scallions. Huo Baichuan brought over the mixed batter as well.

Tao Yan cracked two eggs into it, then poured in the shredded potatoes, chopped scallions, and leftover shredded carrots from dinner the night before, stirring everything evenly. Huo Baichuan volunteered to sit before the stove and get the fire going, but Aunt Zhao stopped him.

"I'll do it!" Aunt Zhao said with a beaming smile. "Our Tao Yan really is amazing. He can make so many different things from just one potato. I have to learn properly."

Tao Yan said nothing. He brushed a layer of oil into the iron pot and heated it, then used an iron ladle to scoop a large spoonful of the richly filled batter into the pot, spreading it into a pancake. He made seven or eight in a row. The large iron pot sizzled as a rich fragrance rose with the heat of the oil. Tao Yan flipped the potato pancakes over with a spatula. Their golden-fried surfaces were bright in color, their edges slightly charred, with tiny bubbles of oil still popping across them.

The volunteer aunties gathered around the edge of the stove to watch Tao Yan cook and could not help taking a deep breath. "It smells so good!"

Tao Yan placed the finished potato pancakes onto a plate. It was already seven in the morning. The sun had risen high, and the temperature was gradually climbing. Tao Yan wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead and stepped back, leaving the stove's "roasting" range. "There's still more than half a basin of batter left. You can cook the rest yourselves. It's too hot in this weather."

Aunt Yao froze for a moment, then smiled enthusiastically. "We also cooked mung bean porridge. It clears heat and cools you down. I'll bring you two bowls."

Tao Yan nodded his thanks and prepared to take a shower first.

Huo Baichuan carried the cooked potato pancakes into the dining hall, then fetched two bowls of mung bean porridge. The volunteer aunties had cooked the porridge after returning from the morning market a little after four, and it had cooled by now. It was soft and grainy, with an especially pleasant texture.

After setting out the bowls and chopsticks, Huo Baichuan sat there waiting for Tao Yan.

Tao Yan went to the washroom and took a cold shower. Too lazy to dry his hair, he came out with it still dripping wet. Huo Baichuan frowned slightly when he saw him. "You're not drying your hair again. Be careful or you'll get a headache."

Tao Yan answered absentmindedly. Picking up his chopsticks, he said, "After breakfast, come with me to the computer market."

Huo Baichuan blurted out, "You want to buy a computer?"

Tao Yan gave Huo Baichuan a light glance. Huo Baichuan always felt that look in Tao Yan's eyes carried a faint sense of looking at an idiot.

Huo Baichuan came back to his senses and felt that his question had indeed been stupid. He chuckled twice and asked, "Then what are you going to the computer market for?"

Tao Yan wanted to look into ways of assembling computers.

Unlike the state of the industry thirty years later, when most electronic products around the world had clearly and meticulously divided high-, mid-, and low-end markets for different consumer levels, selling computers around 1990 was an extremely lucrative business. According to some sources, buying a 386 computer at the time cost 33,900 yuan. After deducting importer discounts, assorted tariffs, and other costs, the net profit on each computer was astonishingly as high as 24%.

In other words, every computer sold for 33,900 yuan could earn at least 8,136 yuan in profit—equivalent to two years of an ordinary person's salary.

What Tao Yan wanted to do was wait outside the computer market for potential customers, strike up conversations with them, sound them out, and find a way to persuade them to hire him to buy an assembled computer. That way, the customers could save some money, and he could earn a service fee in the process.

Huo Baichuan gave Tao Yan a thumbs-up. "That's a good idea!" He had thought they were really going to perform on the streets.

Tao Yan picked up a piece of potato pancake. After chewing it slowly, he said unhurriedly, "That's the initial plan. Whether it works will depend on whether the customers buy it."

Tao Yan pondered briefly. They had arrived in June, when summer vacation had already begun. If it had been September, when university students were starting school, perhaps the customers would have been easier to fool—cough cough—easier to persuade.

Huo Baichuan reassured him carelessly, "It's fine. It'd be great if we catch a rabbit. Even if we don't, it doesn't matter. At worst, we'll go back to performing on the streets."

When Huo Baichuan delivered the roujiamo the night before, he had heard Uncle Qian mention that his family still had a suona. Huo Baichuan had immediately felt eager to try it. He was especially regretful that Uncle Qian had not brought out the suona that day; otherwise, he and Tao Yan could have played the suona and erhu together, clearly raising the level of their street performance by another notch.

After hearing Huo Baichuan's lament, Uncle Qian had smilingly said that if Huo Baichuan wanted to play it, he could borrow it anytime.