The news that Gu Quanfu would be taking up a position as head chef at Yuhuatai quickly spread through the shared courtyard compound, and naturally, the neighbors were happy for him. But it wasn’t long before the news reached the ears of the Chen family as well.
Both members of the Chen couple came over, with Feng Xian’er stomping her foot in frustration. “Why didn’t you say so earlier? Why didn’t you say so! This is great news!”
Back when Gu Quanfu was still cooking professionally, his wages were high to begin with, and whenever someone hosted a wedding banquet and invited him to take charge of the kitchen, he never returned home empty-handed. His skills were well-regarded, and the hosts would always prepare a generous “thank-you parcel.” The Chen family had benefited more than once.
Only after Gu’s name was posted on big-character posters and he fell into political trouble did things fall apart.
So now, hearing that the opportunity had returned, Feng Xian’er was already envisioning days of comfort ahead.
She declared smugly, “He’ll be taking six or seven apprentices! That’s a big deal. In our trade, once you formally take a master, that’s a lifelong relationship. Disciples must serve their master with respect—that’s a huge change. We’ll gain face because of this!”
Gu Shunhua gave her a cool glance. The way she carried on, one would think she herself was the one becoming head chef.
Gu Quanfu calmly sipped from his oversized tea mug before speaking. “These days aren’t what they used to be. It’s just a way to earn a living. Besides, Zhenhua and his wife are coming back soon. Housing, food, and daily necessities—there’s going to be a lot of strain. Actually, I wanted to bring something up. Since your family has fewer people and more space, when Zhenhua’s family returns, they should stay at your place for the time being. You three can squeeze in—after all, we’re relatives, and it’s only right to lend a hand when it counts.”
Gu Shunhua glanced at her father in surprise, thinking, This doesn’t sound like him at all.
But when she saw Feng Xian’er’s face fall instantly, she nearly laughed. Her father still had it—clever as ever! Why hadn’t she noticed before?
Feng Xian’er hesitated. “That won’t do, surely?”
Gu Quanfu continued, “It’s cold, and our bedding is scarce. You should help prepare a few things too—”
Feng Xian’er cut in quickly, “Brother-in-law, what are you saying? We really can’t manage that. Family is family, but we’re not in a position to help with something like this.”
Gu Quanfu’s expression darkened. “So our so-called family ties only go so far? Fine. I’ve seen what that’s worth today.”
His words were sharp, and Chen Yaotang hurried to smooth things over, trying to steer the conversation in another direction.
They soon moved on to discussing the idea of taking Gu Shunhua on as an apprentice in the red kitchen. Feng Xian’er casually chimed in, “Well then, why not let Yuehua go instead? Or if not him, Zhenhua!”
Already annoyed with her, Gu Quanfu slammed his hand on the table and snapped, “Cuiyue! What is this? In the middle of winter, we’ve got mosquitoes buzzing around. What kind of housekeeping is this? You won’t even deal with bugs and fleas?”
That was as close to calling someone a pest as one could get.
Nearby, Gu Yuehua burst out laughing. “Dad, where’s the mosquito? I’ve got a flyswatter right here—just point me in the right direction. I’ll make sure no pests dare come back again!”
Already flustered from Gu Quanfu’s earlier scolding, Feng Xian’er turned completely red. She stood there awkwardly, unable to retreat or stay.
What kind of family was this? Was this any way to speak to relatives?
Even Chen Yaotang was annoyed by her and barked, “Go home! Don’t stand here being an eyesore. The men are talking—what are you doing butting in? Go!”
Feng Xian’er froze. She couldn’t believe Chen Yaotang was speaking to her that way. Her eyes welled with disbelief.
But Chen Yaotang only raised his hand. “Do you want a slap?”
At this point, a normal family gathering might’ve prompted some relatives to mediate. But not in the Gu household. Not one of them stepped in—from Gu Quanfu to Gu Yuehua to Gu Shunhua, not a single person offered to help.
Your family’s business is your own. Whoever wants to scold can scold—what’s it got to do with us?
Even Chen Cuiyue said nothing. She sat quietly, head down, threading a needle and sewing something with great concentration.
Utterly defeated and without support, Feng Xian’er could only slink out of the house, thoroughly humiliated. Once outside, she still couldn’t believe it. She’d just come to visit relatives—how had it ended like this? Was this even reasonable? Didn’t these people know any manners?
Back inside, Chen Yaotang resumed the conversation with a sycophantic smile, showering Gu Quanfu with compliments and praising his culinary talents.
Gu Quanfu replied coldly, “We’re just making a living. Not like you—you could talk a corpse back to life. I’m not that talented. Just an old tradesman serving others.”
All of Chen Yaotang’s flattery fell flat.
Clearing his throat, he finally said, “By the way, brother-in-law, about the apprentice matter—how about letting Chen Lu come too? She doesn’t have a job, and she’s just sitting at home with nothing to do. If she could learn a skill, maybe she could make a living when she gets married.”
The moment Gu Shunhua heard this, her guard shot up.
So that’s what this is about? One plays good cop, the other bad cop—all just to get Chen Lu in as an apprentice?
She quickly connected the dots between the novel’s plot and real life. She suspected that Chen Yaotang had likely already connected with Luo Minghao, planning to profit off her father’s culinary legacy. But all of her father’s skills lived in his hands—not on paper. If they tried to get him to write recipes down, he wouldn’t agree. So the plan must be to send Chen Lu to learn firsthand and steal the secrets that way.
In the back room, Gu Shunhua kept her ears sharp.
Luckily, her father had grown increasingly wary of the Chen family. Sure enough, he refused.
Chen Yaotang tried explaining how difficult things were, but Gu Quanfu’s face turned dark and his lips stayed shut. No matter how hard Chen pushed, he got nowhere—and eventually, he had to leave empty-handed.
Only then did Gu Shunhua breathe a sigh of relief. Good thing I’ve been apprenticing under Dad. I’ll keep my eyes open—no way his treasured culinary legacy is falling into Chen Lu’s hands.
That morning, Gu Shunhua went early to the kindergarten to complete the enrollment process. The monthly fee was twelve yuan per child, which included three meals a day. She had taken a look at the daily menu—nutritious, varied, clearly better than what she could prepare at home. It was an expense, yes, but one that would truly nourish the children.
After all, the two kids were still so frail. When standing among others their age, they were half a head shorter. As a mother, it pained her deeply to see that.
She immediately paid one month’s fee for both children and completed the necessary paperwork. Then, on her way back, she stopped by Uncle Wang Xinrui’s place and asked him to help her buy twenty eggs and two jin of white sugar. Once she had everything, she headed straight to the communal hutong near Xinjiekou, where there was a small shop known as Tan Fourth’s Egg Cakes.
Egg cakes, made with flour, sugar, and eggs, were an old-time snack said to date back to the Yuan dynasty. These days, state-run food shops sold them too, but the taste was often coarse—either under-risen or rough in texture. They simply weren’t the real thing.
Her grandfather had once served as an imperial chef in the palace. He’d been close to a master of northern pastry techniques, who had passed down several signature recipes—egg cakes among them.
When Gu Quanfu was young, he had befriended Tan Fourth. Seeing the man’s hardships, he passed the recipe on to him. Ever since, Tan Fourth had made a modest living by baking egg cakes for the neighborhood, charging a small processing fee.
Today, Shunhua had come seeking his help.
The moment Tan Fourth saw her, he welcomed her without question. He didn’t even take her money—just agreed to make the cakes.
After more than an hour, the cakes were done. Still warm from the steamer, they were laid out on a large bamboo mat lined with wax paper.
Each egg cake was shaped like a five-petal plum blossom, with a red double-happiness pattern stamped in the center. Freshly steamed, they were golden yellow, soft and fluffy, with a light, sweet fragrance—the exact taste from Shunhua’s memories. It had been years since she’d had one.
“Try one,” Tan Fourth said, picking one up and handing it to her.
She took it and bit gently. The texture was soft and springy, the crumb fine and tender, the balance of ingredients and steaming time perfectly judged. The aroma of egg blended beautifully with the flour—it was the kind of flavor that made you want another bite as soon as you finished the first.
“It’s delicious!”
“Isn’t it? It’s an old craft. Everyone who comes says it’s good—if you like it, that’s all that matters!”
Tan Fourth packed the egg cakes into wax paper bags, sealed them tightly, and handed her a mesh bag for easy carrying. Just before leaving, Shunhua discreetly left behind one of the wax paper bags as a small token of thanks.
He still remembered her father’s kindness, but she couldn’t just accept the favor for nothing. After all, no one was well-off these days—everyone had families to feed.
From behind, Tan Fourth called out, “Girl—come back!”
But Gu Shunhua had already dashed off.
She took the bus, carrying the egg cakes. After dropping off three bags at home, she took the remaining two to Lei Yongquan’s place.
Truth be told, she was a little hesitant about bringing egg cakes there. The Lei family was well-off—they might not think much of them. Lei Yongquan himself wouldn’t mind, of course, but he still had his parents and grandparents to consider. It wouldn’t do to appear too shabby.
But at the moment, she didn’t have anything better to offer. All she could do was give it with sincerity.
Sure enough, when she arrived, Lei Yongquan’s mother was home. Shunhua quickly greeted her and presented the egg cakes. “They’re not store-bought. A family elder of ours made them himself. He’s got real skill, and these were steamed fresh today. Auntie, I hope you’ll try them.”
Lei’s mother took one look at Shunhua—delicate features, a refined manner, well-spoken—and instantly felt a liking for her. She smiled, invited her in to sit, and tried a piece of the egg cake.
One bite, and her eyes lit up. “This is really good! Tastes even better than the ones I had from Lanyingzhai the other day.”
Shunhua smiled modestly. “Auntie, you flatter me. It’s nothing like Lanyingzhai—just a homemade treat, something fresh off the steamer. But if you like it, I’ll bring more next time.”
Lanyingzhai was a well-known pastry shop near Xisi Archway, said to date back to the Yuan dynasty. It had weathered countless storms and was still in business today.
Just then, Lei Yongquan came in. His mother offered him one, and he took a big bite, then another. “Tastes amazing!”
While chatting with Lei’s mother, Shunhua brought up her upcoming apprenticeship at Yuhuatai. Lei’s mother was clearly impressed. “Yuhuatai is a fine place. Becoming an apprentice there—now that’s a real future.”
As they spoke, Lei Yongquan mentioned the bricks. “A few days ago, I ran into the director of the Xindu Brick and Tile Factory. I asked about bricks. Their production is all planned—state-regulated. After the plans are made, everything gets allocated and delivered accordingly. They don’t usually have extra stock.”
Shunhua had already suspected as much. “It’s fine—I was planning to make adobe bricks myself…”
But Lei Yongquan smiled. “Well, I kept asking around. During their red brick firing process, they inevitably produce some rejects. Lately, they’ve been testing a foreign technique—called soft extrusion forming. The bricks made this way are hollow-core panel bricks. Since they’re still experimenting, some batches come out defective. Those defective ones are all handled internally.”
Shunhua’s eyes lit up.
She knew brick factories had strict standards for red brick quality. So-called defects might just be a slight color variation—still perfectly usable. Certainly better than her own mud bricks.
“So I asked him to see what he could do,” Lei continued. “He managed to find about three thousand bricks with minor flaws. Some are actually quite decent.”
He hesitated then, not going into details. The factory’s annual output was strictly planned. Even if they pushed production, if the drying or firing went off, the bricks were classified as defective. Some were even prototypes from test runs. All of this had gray areas he didn’t want to get into.
Shunhua nodded eagerly. “How much are they? Are they expensive?”
“The standard bricks go for 0.85 yuan each. This batch of imperfect ones—mixed quality—they’re offering all three thousand for ninety yuan.”
Ninety yuan?
Shunhua could hardly believe it. “Only ninety yuan? That cheap?”
“Yep, that’s the price. Is it convenient for you? If not, I can front it temporarily.”
“No need, I’ve got the money,” Shunhua said. “Over the years, Ren Jingnian and I managed to save a little. Before I came back to the capital, he told me to bring it all. Ninety yuan won’t be a problem.”
Originally, she had thought that if she could get her hands on a few hundred bricks, she’d mix adobe using yellow soil, lime, and straw—then use a small number of real bricks to reinforce it. That way, she’d have a passably sturdy house.
But now—with three thousand bricks?
She could build a proper home!
After all, Ren Jingnian was about to transfer to Sinopec in Langfang. And she herself was starting a temp job at Yuhuatai. They both had income now. No need to worry about running short. Might as well go all in and build something solid—a place that could weather storms and last for years.
Even if they moved out one day, a good house could be rented out—or used as a backup. One way or another, a proper house would benefit the family for decades to come.
Seeing how eager she looked, Lei Yongquan smiled. “All right, it’s settled then. I’ll tell them to deliver the bricks to Qianmen. You can pick them up there. But it’s year-end now—supervisors from all levels are visiting for inspections, and there are annual summary meetings too. It might be a few days before they’re free.”
“That’s no problem!” Shunhua quickly said. “Just being able to get the bricks is already a huge blessing. Yongquan, thank you—this helps me so much!”
Lei Yongquan chuckled, “All that over a few bricks—just look at you! Anyone who didn’t know better would think you struck gold.”
It was just Lei Yongquan teasing as usual, but his mother shot him a disapproving glance. “Listen to yourself! With your attitude, it’s a wonder your friends even bother with you. Must be their saintly patience!”
Gu Shunhua quickly chimed in, “Yongquan has always been kind. We all get along well—really.”
That finally brought a smile to Lei’s mother’s face. As she smiled, she began probing gently about Shunhua’s background.
Shunhua immediately sensed something off. It felt like Lei’s mother might have misunderstood something, so she subtly mentioned that she had two children. Sure enough, the moment she said it, the light in Lei’s mother’s eyes dimmed completely.
Even so, Lei’s mother still seemed to like her. As Shunhua was leaving, the older woman offered a few parting words—chief among them was a comment about Chang Hui.
“That girl—don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I object to them being together. But honestly, she’s far too headstrong. You come to someone’s home, especially if you’re hoping to become a daughter-in-law—at least act the part! She doesn’t even know the basics of etiquette. What kind of upbringing is that? Back in my day, I waited on my elders, made tea, cooked, cared for my husband—never had a moment’s rest. People say times have changed, but no matter the era, a woman should act like a woman: support her husband, raise the children. Don’t you agree, Shunhua?”
All Shunhua could do was smile politely and say nothing.
This was an elder, someone barely even tangentially related to her. There was no need to argue—but inwardly, she couldn’t agree with a word of it.
Now she understood why Chang Hui had refused to lower her head.
Was this what awaited her? Becoming a meek daughter-in-law serving her in-laws hand and foot? Women like them had been tempered through the hardship of the Inner Mongolia corps. They’d clawed their way through wind and snow under the shadow of Yinshan Mountain. Who could listen to this nonsense?
And yet Lei’s mother continued, going on about how Yongquan had started seeing someone, but the girl was a bad match. “Probably just another floozy. What kind of riffraff thinks they deserve to marry into our family?”
Shunhua forced another polite smile and found an excuse to take her leave at last.
Outside, Yongquan walked her out. “Don’t mind my mom. Lately, she thinks no one is good enough for me.”
Shunhua couldn’t help but laugh. “Today was so awkward! Good thing I mentioned I already have kids—your mom’s face changed the moment I said it.”
“All right, enough laughing!” Yongquan said, half embarrassed.
He handed her a paper packet. “Here, take this. Some grain coupons, ration stamps, and a few for household goods and industrial items. You brought your kids back to the capital, and I haven’t bought them anything. Just take these—get whatever you need.”
Shunhua immediately refused. “I can’t take this!”
“Come on, Shunhua. Don’t be polite with me. I know things are tough for you right now. If you won’t ask for help, then I’ll just offer it. Look at the south room in my house—it’s stacked full of things. These coupons mean nothing to me—I can’t even use them all. But for you, they could help buy better food or daily necessities for the kids. That makes me happy. I was there when those kids were born—I even drove you to the hospital. It’s not about anything else. It’s for the children. If you push me away now, it’ll just make things awkward between us.”
His words were sincere, and for a moment, Shunhua was silent.
Yongquan, apart from his messiness with romantic entanglements, really had no other faults.
She accepted the packet. “Yongquan, I understand what you mean, and I won’t forget it. I’ll take the grain coupons—I really do need them. You’ve made things so much easier for me. I won’t give you some formal thank-you speech. I’ll just remember it in my heart.”
Yongquan gave her shoulder a gentle pat, his eyes slightly reddening. “Shunhua, things between me and Chang Hui are over. I admit I messed up. I wasn’t good to her. That’s done now. But you and Jingnian are my friends. Real friends. And that means we don’t keep score. I’m just happy to have you both in my life. When Jingnian gets here, the three of us will have a drink together!”
By the time Shunhua got home, it was already late.
On the bus, she waited until no one was paying attention before opening the packet. Inside were over ten jin worth of grain coupons, several food ration stamps, and even cloth and household goods coupons.
With those, she could buy a new thermos, a kettle, maybe a full set of kitchenware. The cloth coupons meant she could get fabric to sew new clothes.
It was nearly the twelfth lunar month—almost New Year’s. With these, she could make cotton-padded jackets for the kids. She’d seen other children wearing them at the kindergarten—they covered from head to shin and looked so warm.
She tucked everything away, her heart full of gratitude and satisfaction.
Strangely enough, she thought, it was precisely because she wasn’t involved with Yongquan romantically that this was all possible. If he gave these to Chang Hui, she would never accept them—too proud.
But she, a divorced mother, had nothing to hide. She could accept help without shame.
She knew exactly what she was doing. The bricks—three thousand of them—that was the real favor. Bricks like that didn’t just fall into anyone’s hands. Even at three hundred yuan, it would’ve been a steal. These were prepared for insiders. And she got them for ninety.
Compared to that, the ration coupons were nothing. To reject them out of pride after already taking the bricks would just be silly.
Lei Yongquan had helped with a sincere heart. She accepted that—and she’d remember it.
Author’s note:
Lei Yongquan: I’m so poor I’ve only got ration coupons left.
Me: I’m so poor I’ve only got red packets left.
Shunhua has Lei Yongquan. You have me!