North Family Letters

Qiu Ji Northeastern Cuisine's reputation has long since spread beyond the streets and alleys of the county town.

Food lovers from surrounding cities and counties flocked to the restaurant, and even food bloggers from the provincial capital drove all the way to film a video of a pot of steaming hot stew and a plate of golden-brown sweet and sour pork, captioning it, "This is the real essence of Northeastern cuisine." The video went viral overnight, and Qiu Ji's restaurant has seen many more faces coming from afar ever since.

Qiu Ju wasn't overwhelmed by the sudden popularity; instead, she became even more strict with the rules.

The ingredients are still personally selected every morning. The black pork must be freshly slaughtered and taken immediately. The sauerkraut is fermented naturally in the cellar. Even the garlic sauce for dipping stews is made by hand with the kitchen staff, without adding any artificial flavorings or additives. Some people advised her, "With business so booming right now, it would be so much easier to find a supplier and buy in bulk. You could use the time saved to turn over several more tables."

Qiuju simply shook her head: "Discerning diners can tell the difference in a single bite. If I cut corners today, I'll lose my reputation tomorrow. My shop is located in my hometown; if I lose my reputation, it's like losing my roots."

The second sister, Xiahe, kept the front of the restaurant impeccably organized. From the greetings to customers as they entered to the farewells upon departure, from the accurate bills to the spotless cleanliness of the establishment, the two sisters remained true to their ways: one tending the flavors of the stove, the other guarding the warmth of human connection. The local auntie hired at the restaurant initially only knew how to cook simple home-style dishes. Qiuju personally taught her knife skills, cooking techniques, and seasoning ratios, not only teaching her the skills but also instilling in her the bottom line of conduct: "You can't adulterate the food, and you can't adulterate your heart."

Gradually, Qiu Ji became more than just a restaurant; it became a cherished memory in the county town.

When students returning from studying away from home for holidays come back, their first meal is always at Qiu Ji; when someone holds a wedding or birthday banquet, they would rather book a private room half a month in advance and choose Qiu Ji; even the elderly who usually can't bear to eat out will occasionally bring some spare change to order a bowl of sauerkraut and pork soup to warm themselves up.

When Qiuju met an elderly person, she would quietly add two extra slices of pork belly and serve them a full bowl of rice; when she met a guest with a child, she would offer a side dish without chili; and when she encountered a passerby with financial difficulties, she would ask the kitchen to prepare a bowl of hot soup noodles for her free of charge. She never did good deeds in a grand manner, but simply hid her kindness in every bowl and every chopstick, much like the nature of the black soil—silent yet profound.

Even the tallest tree catches the most wind, but this time, the storm is even fiercer.

A new chain of Northeastern Chinese restaurants opened in the county. It was grandly decorated and heavily advertised, but immediately started offering discounts and even hired online influencers to attract customers, quickly stealing away many of their clientele. The chain's owner sent someone to talk to Qiuju, his tone condescending: "Your little shop will barely make any money from hard work. Why don't you sell the signboard to me and enjoy your retirement at home?"

Qiuju smiled and refused, "This shop isn't about making a business; it's about holding onto a cherished memory. I won't sell it for any price."

When the other party realized that gentle persuasion wasn't working, they resorted to force, secretly lowering ingredient costs by using frozen meat instead of fresh meat and quick-made sauerkraut instead of traditional pickling. Through low prices and a showy facade, they significantly reduced Qiu Ji's business. The kitchen auntie was frantic, stamping her feet in frustration: "Boss lady, let's lower our prices and have some promotions! If this continues, the shop won't survive!"

Qiuju remained steadfast, still going out early every day to select ingredients and still carefully cooking each dish, but now she focused more on her regular customers. She noted down their preferences: who liked sour sweet and sour pork, who liked stewed goose until very tender, and who couldn't eat spicy food. She wrote all of this down in her notebook so that when customers came back, she could serve them the dishes they wanted without them even having to ask.

Regular customers know that while chain restaurants offer a lively atmosphere, they lack a heartwarming feeling. After trying them a few times, they always return to Qiu Ji. They tell everyone they meet, "No matter how nice the decor, it's not as good as the food; no matter how cheap the price, it's not as good as peace of mind. At Qiu Ji, you're eating with a personal touch."

Reputation is never built through advertising, but through the accumulation of delicious flavors. Within six months, that chain restaurant faced customer complaints about its ingredients and was investigated by market regulators for substandard kitchen hygiene, quickly closing down. Qiu Ji, however, continues to stand firmly on the commercial street, its vibrant atmosphere never fading.

As life became more and more prosperous, Qiuju brought her parents from the countryside to the county town and moved them into a spacious and bright new house. Looking at Qiuju now and at the bustling restaurant, her parents' wrinkled faces beamed with joy: "Back then, we were worried when you insisted on going out to make your way in the world. Now we know that you have really grown up."

Qiuju nestled beside her parents, her heart filled with peace. From leaving Northeast China with her luggage, to struggling and establishing herself in Guangzhou, and then returning to her hometown to open a small shop, the path she had walked had no shortcuts, only steady progress, one step at a time.

Later, Qiuju opened two more branches, still using the "Qiuji" brand and adhering to the principles of using high-quality ingredients, authentic taste, and sincere service. She didn't turn the store into a chain brand, but rather managed each store as if it were her own kitchen, so that every customer who entered could enjoy a comforting taste of home.

During holidays and festivals, Qiu Ji's shop is always packed, and the aroma of stewed dishes wafts for several streets. Qiu Ju stands in the brightly lit shop, looking at the room full of laughter and cheerful voices, at familiar faces and unfamiliar smiling faces, at her second sister busy in the front hall, and at the aunties in the kitchen cooking in an orderly manner, her heart is full of contentment.

She used to think that success meant making a lot of money and making a name for herself. But now she understands that true success is about putting down roots in her hometown, supporting her family with hard work, and warming her neighbors with a sincere heart.

The train once carried her away from her homeland; now, she uses bowls of hot dishes to bring those who have wandered far away back to their hometown. She once worked hard silently in the streets and alleys of Guangzhou; now, on the black soil, she has made her life the most down-to-earth.

Outside the window, the Northeast land changes seasons, spring sowing and autumn harvest, cold and heat passing by. The lights in Qiuji's house are always on, and the stew in the pot is always bubbling. That is the most touching warmth of human life, and the most stable happiness that Qiuju has earned through a lifetime of perseverance.

Work diligently and treat people sincerely. No matter how far you go or what you do, you will eventually be able to live a peaceful and stable life on your own land.