You Hit Me!

Textile Factory workers had suffered through the cafeteria's terrible food for far too long!

Especially over the past two years. After the stir-fry section opened, Master Xiao was transferred there to handle the stir-fries, and the quality of the big-pot dishes plummeted.

That would have been one thing. If they wanted a change of taste, they could go to the stir-fry section, pay a little extra, and the food really was quite good.

But at the beginning of this year, the kitchen changed head chefs. Master Xiao was pushed out, and the stir-fries also went straight downhill, becoming increasingly awful.

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They paid extra, only for the food to make them sick. That had become commonplace in the stir-fry section.

Whether a meal was edible or not depended entirely on luck.

Zhao Dong's words were like a match tossed into a powder keg.

"Are big-pot dishes not meant for people to eat? The beef in the potato-braised beef is stewed so soft and mushy it's like cotton stuffing, while the potatoes are like runny mud—you can't even pick them up!"

"The pork crackling with lotus root is just lotus root boiled in plain water! Even pigs would go on hunger strike if you served that to them!"

"The water spinach is all limp and wilted. It's definitely leftovers from yesterday, probably not even washed. A tiny pebble nearly knocked out my front tooth!"

The anger everyone had bottled up for so long ignited at that moment.

"I'm telling you, it's that bastard Huang Fusheng. He's a cuckoo squatting in another bird's nest without laying eggs, squeezing out and suppressing Master Xiao, then making all this mess."

"That useless bastard couldn't even pass the Level Three chef exam, yet he somehow pushed Master Xiao, a Level Two chef, down and became head chef himself. Wang Defa isn't any good either, always playing favorites."

"A turtle lying on railroad tracks, pretending it's an armored shell!"

"The factory allocates so much money, and this is what we get to eat? I'm afraid some people are scraping oil off chicken legs—greedy enough to lick it from the bone cracks!"

Before long, the complaints about the awful food had shifted into attacks on Huang Fusheng and Wang Defa.

The insults were downright vicious.

"That little bastard Zhao Dong! He actually dared curse me like that! He even incited the workers to cause trouble—I'll chop him up!" Huang Fusheng was getting cursed bloody in the kitchen. He flew into a rage, grabbed a bone cleaver from the knife rack, and rushed toward the door.

The other chefs all stuck their heads out to watch him. Not one tried to stop him.

Huang Fusheng charged to the doorway, then stopped. He turned back and cursed at them, "You lot, why didn't you stop me? If I really ran out there and chopped someone up, the cafeteria would be in serious trouble!"

"Your little act is a paper lantern—one poke and it falls apart. Why would anyone need to stop you?" Xiao Lei sneered.

The chefs truly couldn't hold it in anymore and all burst out laughing.

Huang Fusheng's face turned red, and in the end, he tossed aside the knife in his hand.

The incident had grown quite serious, and Wang Defa had been cursed so badly that he didn't dare show his face.

In the end, Liu Yusheng, the deputy factory director in charge of the cafeteria, hurried over. Only after much coaxing and persuasion did he calm the workers down.

"We understand everyone's needs and concerns. On behalf of the factory, I promise you that we will immediately hold a meeting to study this issue and ensure it is dealt with and resolved as soon as possible," Deputy Director Liu solemnly promised.

"I've heard that line so many times my ears have grown calluses," Zhao Dong muttered before getting up to leave.

"Zhao Dong, come to my office." Liu Yusheng called out to Zhao Dong and left with him.

"Deputy Director Liu, about this matter..."

Liu Yusheng said with a stern expression, "Your intentions in this matter weren't wrong, but your method was somewhat inappropriate. You're a department head, after all. You need to consider the impact. If things get out of hand and turn into a collective incident, how will we handle it?"

"You're right. I didn't think it through." Zhao Dong nodded and did not argue further.

"The broth is clear, yet the flavor is rich. It's unbelievably fresh. No wonder it can sell for sixty cents a bowl and still sell so many every day." After all the customers had left, Zhou Jie looked at Zhou Yan as he came out of the kitchen and sighed.

He had counted them. They had sold sixty-four bowls of Qiaojiao Beef that afternoon, and every customer had praised it endlessly.

"See? I didn't lie when I said we could sell a hundred bowls, did I?" Zhou Yan said with a smile.

He had not actually been busy that afternoon. He had only made six portions of Two-Pepper Beef, reheated four portions of beef with dried bamboo shoots and two portions of Braised Spare Ribs, then chatted with Zhou Momo for an hour and nearly fell asleep.

"I believe you. Of course I believe you." Zhou Jie nodded. He had just drunk a bowl of the soup, and the difference was so obvious that he had no choice but to admit it.

The recipe Zhou Yan had developed was far better than his own.

If he learned it, not a single soup-pot vendor at the docks would be able to compete with him!

"I heard the workers say the Factory Canteen nearly came to blows. The food was so bad that the workers were all cursing Wang Defa and Huang Fusheng. Later, a deputy factory director came over and got things under control." Zhao Tieying looked puzzled. "How could such a large factory cafeteria fail to even cook a proper dish?"

The workers who came later were all discussing the matter, and Zhou Jie and Zhao Hong also looked curiously at Zhou Yan.

"When amateurs direct professionals while favoring their own people, this kind of thing isn't surprising." Zhou Yan smiled. "Even a chef as capable as my master could only work as a prep cook. Chefs with actual skill couldn't get near a wok, while those good at flattering people became masters. How could the food possibly be good?"

Everyone suddenly understood.

"How's the blanching of tripe and beef going?" Zhou Yan asked Zhou Jie.

"More or less there. I just blanched a few bowls under Fourth Aunt's guidance." Zhou Jie was full of confidence.

Zhou Yan glanced at the system task panel:

[Side Quest: Qiaojiao Beef Inheritance. Accepting Disciple: Zhou Jie. Learning Progress: 1/3]

"Not bad. You have a foundation. Come again tomorrow and the day after to reinforce it, and you'll be ready to graduate." Zhou Yan smiled.

"Sure." Zhou Jie nodded without objection.

Just then, a bicycle stopped outside the door.

Zhou Yan looked up, rose to greet him, and said, "Uncle."

Zhou Weiguo was wearing his military uniform that day, the one he had worn when he returned from service. It still looked quite new. After changing clothes, his bearing was completely different from yesterday's—upright and imposing, as though the Company Commander Zhou who had once led soldiers into battle had returned.

After parking his bicycle, he smiled and said, "I just came back from the county seat and stopped by to have a look at your restaurant."

"What did the Personnel Bureau say?" Zhou Yan asked with concern. This matter had dragged on for four years, and he was afraid something might go wrong.

Zhou Weiguo said, "The Personnel Bureau held a meeting this morning to discuss it. There's no result yet. They told me to come back and wait for notice, and said they'll arrange things for me as soon as possible."

"That's good." Zhou Yan smiled. "You haven't eaten yet, have you? We haven't either. Let's have something simple together."

"Alright." Zhou Weiguo nodded and followed him inside.

Everyone exchanged greetings.

Zhou Momo slid off her chair and ran over at once, her face full of delight. "Uncle! Uncle! Why are you here?"

"I came to see you." Zhou Weiguo smiled, felt around in his pocket, and held out his hand before Zhou Momo. Two gleaming gold-coin chocolates appeared in his palm.

"Wow! Gold coins!" Zhou Momo's eyes lit up. She reached out to take them, overjoyed. "Thank you, Uncle!"

"You're welcome." Zhou Weiguo's smile grew even brighter.

A leader he knew at the Personnel Bureau had casually handed them to him. He had carried them all the way back for Zhou Momo. Seeing her eyes crinkle with happiness felt sweeter than eating them himself.

"Shiny gold coins, wow, wow, such beautiful big gold coins..." Zhou Momo took her coins aside to play with them.

It was obvious that she truly liked shiny things.

In those days, showing off two gold coins outside was enough to make the other children jealous for ages.

Most children would be too reluctant to eat them after getting them.

Zhou Yan went to cook, while everyone else chatted in the restaurant. They talked mostly about Zhou Hao's wedding, which had been set for this Sunday.

Zhou Hao was Zhou Jie's younger brother. He was a noncommissioned officer in the army and had taken leave to come home for his wedding. He would not return until three days before the ceremony, so the family was handling all the preparations.

While Zhou Erwa Restaurant was warm and cheerful, Zhou Liangliang and his wife across the street were already tearing into each other.

"I said we shouldn't move, but you insisted! Look at us now—not a single bowl of noodles sold, not one bowl of soup sold either! Are we supposed to sit here and drink the northwest wind?" Wu Guihua stamped her feet in fury.

"Magic cape." Zhou Liangliang frowned as he smoked. The ground was littered with cigarette butts, and even now, he could not figure out why things had turned out this way.

"Smoke, smoke, smoke! Put that out! We spent so much money on all this meat, vegetables, and noodles today. If we can't sell them, we'll have worked for nothing all month!" Wu Guihua slapped the cigarette from Zhou Liangliang's mouth and glared at him murderously.

"I've spoiled you too much..." Zhou Liangliang raised his fist.

"You hit me, then." Wu Guihua stepped right up to him and pressed her face against his fist. "Zhou Liangliang, look at you, acting all tough now. You dare hit your wife?"

Zhou Liangliang clenched and unclenched his fist before finally lowering it. He gave two dry coughs and said, "I'll think of something. There's no way we won't sell even a single bowl. That makes no sense!"

After a simple meal, Zhou Weiguo and Zhou Jie headed home.

Zhou Yan stood at the restaurant entrance, watching Zhou Weiguo ride side by side with Zhou Jie. The wind fluttered his empty left sleeve, and no one could tell that he walked with a limp.

"If Weiguo gets his work assignment, matchmakers will be wearing down the threshold of the old house to propose marriages for him." Zhao Tieying stood beside him, smiling warmly with a relieved look. "He's finally come around."

"Then you should praise me. I'm the one who talked Uncle into it." Zhou Yan raised his chin and grinned smugly.

"Is that so?"

"I swear on my son."

"Aren't you my son?"

"It's absolutely true!"

Meng Anhe wore a black trench coat over a fitted black dress. She came out of the family housing compound with her two sons, stepped forward to take Lin Zhiqiang's arm, and asked in confusion, "You invited the factory director to dinner, so why did you choose Zhou Yan's place? You know what his wife is like—she's so particular about food. If all she gets is noodles, won't she go home and complain about us for half a year?"

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