People generally still followed the rules back then, and with the snowfall, none of the shop's goods had been set outside. Li Long stood at the entrance cracking sunflower seeds and looking in. The proprietress was warming herself by the stove. Seeing him stop at the door, she greeted him warmly.
"Hello, comrade. What seasonings are you buying? We have Sichuan pepper, star anise, dried ginger, bay leaves, all sorts. Buy more and it's cheaper..."
"Do you have cumin?" Li Long asked.
"Yes. How much do you want?" the proprietress asked.
"Three to five kilos?"
"That much? Do you run a barbecue shop?" she asked in surprise.
Apart from barbecue shops, hardly anyone needed that much cumin. After all, its aroma would dissipate, and once it did, it was worth very little. Most households only bought a few hundred grams and sealed it tightly in a plastic bag or a glass canning jar.
"No, I'm making dried meat," Li Long said. "By the way, since you sell seasonings, do you know the proportions for making beef jerky? If you do, I'll buy some here and try mixing them."
"I do. We make it at home, though not much." The proprietress invited Li Long inside, then pointed toward the stove door. "You can spit your sunflower seed shells in there."
Li Long entered, and as the proprietress went to move a sack of cumin, she said:
"I'm not trying to turn business away, but if you buy that much cumin, you'd have to make several hundred kilos of meat, wouldn't you? Otherwise, you won't use it all. Besides, people don't usually put cumin in dried meat. People here in Northern Xinjiang can take the flavor, but people in Inland China can't."
Her words surprised Li Long a little. This proprietress was