Wendi shivered, chilled to the bone with fear.
How is this possible? How could she ever do such a thing? After such shameful acts, Aunt Hua gives her nothing but cold stares every time they meet. How could she possibly ask for their recipes, imitate their craftsmanship? That would be like asking to be slapped in the face. She couldn’t possibly do such a thing and naturally, they wouldn’t tell her either.
She really thought they were something special, their recipes something just anyone could know?
"Pah!" Aunt Hua spat, "With their poor and pathetic appearance, still trying to run a business without even the slightest sense of hygiene. Who would buy their pastries and not fear getting sick? Those tiny pastries they make, only a fool would buy that. It’s embarrassing even to compare their pastries to ours."
She always remembered what Qin Xiangnuan had said—treat making them as if you were cooking for yourself, with cleanliness and hygiene, and don’t just make the pastries inconsistently large or small. Putting herself in the customer’s shoes, she knew she’d feel cheated if she bought such products. This wasn’t shopping; it was outright deception.
Because the shop had just gotten new equipment, Qin Xiangnuan spent a few extra days there. The shop was vital for their livelihood, naturally more important than anything. Plus, if she missed a few days of primary school, it wouldn’t matter. So she let Qin Xiangyang help Aunt Hua steady the shop first.
This year was truly cold; the New Year came early and there was a heavy snowfall recently. It was almost spring yet a cold snap had reversed the warmth. The shop, equipped with a stove and fairly draft-free, made a good warming shelter, attracting many to take refuge from the chill.
Aunt Hua, an honest rural woman, warmly greeted everyone who came, regardless of whether they intended to eat. Seeing some people holding children whom she pitied, she even offered them some hot water to drink. Through this kind of interaction, the shop’s business began to boom.
A bowl of hot and sour noodles wasn’t expensive, but it warmed the entire body, banishing the cold.
Across the street, the Wen family’s pastry shop wasn’t doing well because of the freezing weather. People preferred hot, soupy dishes which warmed them up through and through.
Mr. Wen was furiously frustrated, constantly scolding Wendi for being useless, for not even being able to learn how to make hot and sour noodles.
But how could Wendi learn that? This was someone else’s money-making venture; only a fool would betray their trade secrets.
Unsure of what was causing this weather, Aunt Hua unconsciously rubbed her hands together—it truly was unbearable.
"Old Hua, boil some more water and prepare some cups. It’s hard for everyone being out and about—give water to anyone who’s thirsty. Water doesn’t cost anything; consider it a good deed."
"Alright," Uncle Hua hurried to boil the water. Now that there was nothing going on in the fields, their family members all came to help. With more diners, it was hectic, but it was manageable with Uncle Hua and his two sons there. Otherwise, who knew what it would turn into.
With the introduction of new items, it was inevitable that they became a bit clumsy, now even having to wash dishes themselves. Washing dish by dish was indeed time-consuming. Aunt Hua dared not hire outsiders anymore—better to trust family.