Republic of China, 1928: Starting from a Wonton Shop

In an era of scarce entertainment and where Peking Opera was the pinnacle of popularity, Mei Lanfang's name was the biggest name in Beiping (Beijing).

In an instant, the wonton shop was surrounded by a huge crowd.

"Ladies and gentlemen! Don't push, don't push!" Li Chunsheng shouted while protecting the stove. "This soup pot is scalding hot! If anyone gets burned, my small business can't afford the losses!"

"Everyone line up, one at a time! But there aren't many wontons left!"

Li Chunsheng glanced at the bowl of minced meat on the cutting board.

"Boss Li, Boss Mei just said your wontons are delicious, is that true?" A junior employee in a long gown asked, squeezing to the front.

Li Chunsheng kept throwing wontons into the pot. "I can't say whether it's delicious or not, but this soup is made with real pork bones and old chicken. You should try it."

"Alright! Then give me a bowl of wontons too!"

As bowls of steaming wontons were served, the temperature in the shop seemed to rise considerably.

"Wow, so hot! So fresh!"

"No wonder Boss Mei said it was good; the taste is indeed excellent!"

The progress bar on the panel also kept jumping amidst the noise:

[Wonton making proficiency: 100/100]

[Stock Making Proficiency: 68/100]

[Reputation Points Gained: 10]

As dusk fell, the neon signs in Dashilan began to flash, and the hustle and bustle of the night market did not diminish; on the contrary, it became even more lively due to the crowds of people leaving work.

The distant sound of an erhu drifted from the theater, while street vendors hawked their cigarettes.

"Boss, two bowls of wontons, please!" a burly man who had just finished work shouted.

Li Chunsheng glanced at the empty meat filling bowl, then at the half-full bucket of broth, and shook his head with some regret.

He picked up the towel hanging around his neck, wiped his hands, and bowed to the dozen or so people still in line: "Sorry, gentlemen! We're sold out of minced meat today!"

"Huh? That's it?"

"Boss Li, could you make some more? Look, everyone's lining up!"

"Yeah, it's only a few o'clock!"

A sigh of disappointment rippled through the crowd.

Li Chunsheng also considered it in his mind.

If he went to buy meat now, the butcher shops would be closed by dark. He could only go to the kitchens of big restaurants to buy some, and even then, they might not be willing to give him any. Besides, he had just transmigrated, and this body was still recovering from a serious illness. The intense labor he had done all day had left him with a sore back and aching muscles.

"I'm so sorry everyone," Li Chunsheng explained with a smile, "I buy all the meat fresh every morning. I didn't prepare enough today, which may have disappointed you. So, please come early tomorrow, and I'll prepare more ingredients to make sure you all have a good meal!"

These days, few roadside stalls pay attention to hygiene, let alone the freshness of their ingredients.

"Alright! Boss Li is a man of principle!"

"Let's come early tomorrow! Let's go!"

Although the crowd was somewhat reluctant to leave, they gradually dispersed.

Li Chunsheng breathed a sigh of relief and began to pack up his stall.

This cleanup is even more tiring than setting up a stall. The iron pots have to be scrubbed clean, and the remaining broth has to be poured into a special wooden bucket to take back. This is the base of the stock, which will be simmered with water and bones tomorrow to make it even richer. The tables, chairs, and benches have to be wiped clean, stacked up, and locked away.

The old man selling roasted sweet potatoes next to him looked at Li Chunsheng's bulging money bag with envy, his eyes wide with admiration: "Chunsheng, you've struck it rich today. Don't forget your old neighbors when you become successful."

"Grandpa, look at what you're saying. We're all unfortunate people, so let's help each other out. It's cold outside, you should pack up your stall early."

Winters in Beiping (Beijing) are particularly cold and dark, with darkness falling very quickly.

Leaving the bustling Qianmen area and entering the alley, the whole world seemed to quiet down, with only the sound of the cold wind whistling through the treetops and the crunching sound of Li Chunsheng's feet on the snow.

Li Chunsheng's home is in a narrow alley in Qianmen Xiheyan.

This was originally a Manchu family's house, but it later fell into decline and was divided and sold to more than a dozen families. The courtyard was filled with all sorts of sheds, piles of coal briquettes, and stacks of cabbages, with only a narrow passageway in the middle.

Li Chunsheng pushed his wheelbarrow carefully, avoiding the frozen ice and debris on the ground, and turned into the southwest corner of the yard.

It was a low-ceilinged house that rarely saw sunlight, and it was cold and damp. This was where he and his recently deceased father had lived for more than ten years.

Pushing open the old wooden door, the room was dark and devoid of any human presence. Li Chunsheng parked his car, closed the door behind him, and groped his way to the table. He struck a match and lit the kerosene lamp on the table, which had been used for who knows how many years.

The furnishings inside were very simple: a square table, two long benches, a wooden bed against the wall with two old quilts covered in patches, and a few wilted cabbages and half a sack of coal piled in the corner.

The only thing that seemed somewhat solemn was a simple memorial tablet placed on the left side of the door, with his father's name written on it.

Li Chunsheng walked over. Although he was a soul that had traveled from another time, the bloodline, memories, and emotions of this body were real.

"Father," Li Chunsheng lit three incense sticks, "Now that I'm here, you can rest assured. The wonton stall is doing well, and the money owed to the Black Tiger Gang should be paid off soon. Rest in peace, Father."

He respectfully kowtowed three times, got up, lit the incense, and let out a heavy sigh of relief.

Li Chunsheng walked to the square table, sat down, took out the heavy cloth bag from his arms, and poured it onto the table.

"Splash!"

The crisp metallic clanging sound was particularly pleasant in the quiet night.

A large pile of copper coins, interspersed with the silver coin awarded by Mei Lanfang, gleamed alluringly under the lamplight.

Li Chunsheng rubbed his frozen hands and began to count.

"One, two, three..."

Most of the copper coins were double-flag coins, but there were also some Qing Dynasty copper coins from the early Qing period. They varied in size and purity.

He first picked out the Yuan Shikai silver dollar.

This silver coin is of excellent quality; if you blow on it and hold it to your ear, you can hear a buzzing sound.

"A total of two hundred and eighty-six copper coins!"

Li Chunsheng took a deep breath and did some mental calculations.

We sold about sixty bowls of wontons today.

In terms of cost: pork bones and chicken frames were cheap, costing less than twenty copper coins in total; two catties of flour were used, costing about twenty copper coins; the minced meat was the most expensive, but it only used less than half a catty of meat, costing forty copper coins; plus coal briquettes, seasonings...

The total cost, at most, was just over a hundred copper coins.

"If I could earn this much every day, after deducting costs, I could make a net profit of about 180 copper coins a day..." Li Chunsheng muttered to himself.

In that era, an ordinary patrolman's monthly salary was about eight silver dollars, which was equivalent to about 2,400 copper coins; a rickshaw puller could only earn thirty or forty copper coins a day, and he still had to pay the rickshaw fee.

His net profit in one day is equivalent to Shunzi pulling a cart for five days!