noveltune Chapter 110: Sister Zhou 27, Living Anchor Point
Chapter 110: Sister Zhou 27, Living Anchor Point
The mornings on Huguosi Street are less filled with the smell of cooking oil.
This is terrifying.
Before dawn, Sister Zhou would heat up her pancake pan first, followed by Tong Kexin's braised food stove. You could smell the aroma from halfway down the street and know it was time to get up.
Today, there was an empty space at the street corner. The pancake cart was parked there, with a small, clean bell hanging on the handlebars, which didn't ring even when there was no wind.
Tong Kexin washed the cracked bowl of batter and placed it under the braised food stall, with the crack facing the wall.
Aunt Liu peeked at the pancake cart from her front door, then quickly withdrew.
Aunt Zhang came out carrying a vegetable basket, but turned around halfway down the street, muttering a curse under her breath, but didn't move her feet toward the street corner.
Three copper coins lay beside the manhole cover, bound with red thread. The Zhenhai Iron, which sank last night, remained quiet at the bottom of the well, occasionally emitting a muffled thud.
Cheng Xiaojin sat behind the braised food stall, wearing thick cotton gloves on both hands, with an untouched bowl of soy milk in front of him.
Tong Kexin lit the stove. "What are you doing here? Didn't Tang Wanqing say you weren't allowed to run around for three days?"
"I didn't run around, I was sitting."
"Sitting here is an eyesore."
"Then I'll lie down?"
Tong Kexin picked up a spoon and said, "If you dare to lie down next to Sister Zhou's stall, I'll put a pot lid on your pot."
Tieguai Li pushed a small flatbed cart from the street corner, with several large iron pots stacked on it. Behind him followed Zhou Jie's cousin, who was carrying a bag of cornmeal and looked pale from exhaustion.
When Tieguai Li saw Cheng Xiaojin sitting so comfortably, he got angry. "Xiaojin, you said you would pay, but I ended up carrying the pots while you sat here in the cold wind. Your business is even more shady than Boss Lin's."
Cheng Xiaojin kicked the wheel with his toe. "Brother Li, the capable should do more. I can barely hold peanuts with both hands now. Moving the pot would be like murdering a wounded soldier."
Tong Kexin stared at the things in the car. "Why did you buy so many pots and pans?"
"Dinner is served."
"to whom?"
Cheng Xiaojin looked at the closed doors on both sides of the street, "For people who are too scared to go out."
Another low, muffled dragon's roar came from the bottom of the well, and the fire in the braising stove dimmed slightly.
Zhou Banxian walked over wearing a cotton-padded coat, without his wine pot, and his face looked unwell.
"The popularity has dropped by 30%. Last night's incident scared the neighbors. This is what living anchors fear most. If the pot isn't hot, the door isn't opened, and people aren't cursing, the iron rod under the ground is practically buried in an empty grave."
Tang Wanqing then came over and said, "We can't force people to set up stalls. The atmosphere of the community depends on the daily life of the people. People who are forcibly invited will have a superficial atmosphere that can't be controlled."
Cheng Xiaojin nodded. "So I'm treating them to dinner."
Tieguai Li unloaded the pot. "Half a pig, dozens of pounds of cornmeal, and the scallions and ginger you asked me to buy—whose bill should be put on these?"
"Who else can be remembered? I, the poor gatekeeper, will be remembered."
Tong Kexin looked at him. "You have money?"
"no."
"Then why are you pretending to be a rich guy?"
Cheng Xiaojin said earnestly, "I'll owe you for now. When I buy a courtyard house in the future, I'll treat you to porridge in the courtyard."
Tieguai Li sneered, "You should order your courtyard house from the paper craft shop first."
The big pot was set up, and the fire was started.
Tong Kexin cuts the meat, Tang Wanqing wraps the copper coin with a red thread, Zhou Banxian observes the wind direction, and Tieguai Li uses scrap iron to block the fire.
Cheng Xiaojin tried to help, but was glared at by all four of them and could only sit on a small stool to give instructions.
"Don't cut the meat too small. Poor people feel at ease only when they can see meat in their porridge."
"Shut up. If you keep giving orders, I'll cut you a piece of ginger and stuff it in your mouth."
As the pork is added to the pot, the fat rises to the surface, and a sprinkle of cornmeal releases the aroma.
A window on Huguosi Street was half open.
Aunt Liu poked her head out and called out, "Kexin, how much is this pot for?"
Tong Kexin shouted back, "No money needed, Cheng Xiaojin, please."
Cheng Xiaojin's face fell. "Could you please put it more tactfully?"
Aunt Zhang chimed in, "Cheng Xiaojin can afford to treat us to a meal? The sun must have risen from the bottom of the Locked Dragon Well."
"Aunt Zhang, you're being dishonest. I used to help you carry coal when I was a kid."
"You stole two sugar triangles from my house while you were carrying coal briquettes."
"Childhood cases are not suitable for retrial."
The meat porridge in the pot boiled, and its aroma overpowered the cold air at the wellhead.
Some people brought out bowls, while others stood on the threshold, hesitant to approach.
Aunt Liu took a sip, her eyes reddened first, but she still stubbornly said, "There's not enough salt."
Tong Kexin shoved the salt shaker into her arms, saying, "You can put it in yourself."
Aunt Zhang stood by the pancake stall with her bowl in her hand. "Sister Zhou is the stingiest person. She'd even feel bad if she made an extra egg. But today, Xiao Cheng treated us to meat porridge, and she missed out."
No one responded.
As more and more people gathered on the street, several elderly stall owners stood by their doors with their arms crossed, keeping a distance from their stalls.
Cheng Xiaojin saw Old Li, who was selling tofu pudding, and called out to him, "Uncle Li, are you going out of business?"
Old Li was embarrassed. "The pot is broken."
Tieguai Li pulled a wrench from under the car. "Give it to me, I'll fix it."
"It's not terribly bad."
"That means you're incredibly cowardly." Tieguai Li, carrying a wrench, went over. "I didn't even run away with this leg, what are you afraid of with two legs for a manhole cover?"
Old Li was speechless for a moment, and after a long while he finally cursed, "That cripple has a really sharp tongue."
"It can suppress evil spirits."
With more people around, the low rumble at the bottom of the well weakened, the flames of the stewing stove became more stable, and the white frost on the edge of the well cover receded into the cracks.
Tang Wanqing glanced at the compass. "The heat has been suppressed."
Zhou Banxian squatted by the pot, drinking porridge. "If the orthodox sects saw this formation, they would be so angry that their founders would come back to life. A big pot of meat porridge suppressing the underworld, who would believe that?"
Cheng Xiaojin warmed his face with the bowl in his hands, saying, "Whether you believe it or not doesn't matter, as long as it works."
As they were talking, a man wearing a baseball cap squeezed into the crowd. He was dressed in old clothes, carrying an empty bowl in his hand, and walking with his head down. No one paid much attention to him.
Tong Kexin was bending down to serve porridge to the child when she looked up and saw a dark red stain dripping from his right sleeve.
She didn't shout.
The iron spoon tapped against the side of the pot, and a full spoonful of hot porridge flew out and smeared on the back of the person's hand.
The man recoiled in pain, and a bloodstained nail fell from his sleeve. The nail, wrapped with black thread, rolled into the crack of the manhole cover as soon as it hit the ground.
Cheng Xiaojin flicked his toe, flipped the small stool over, the wooden leg caught the iron nail, and then stood up, kicking the man in the back of the knee.
The man knelt down, and the bowl shattered.
Tong Kexin pointed at him with a spoon in hand, "What are you throwing into the well?"
The man covered the back of his hand, his eyes scanning the street corner. "I've come here for some porridge."
Tieguai Li, leaning on his prosthetic leg, came over and pressed a wrench against his back. "Bloodstained porridge? Your spoon looks like this?"
Zhou Banxian picked up the nail and examined it, his face turning dark. "A worthless piece of junk, Boss Lin really has the nerve to hire such filthy scum to cause trouble in the street."
Cheng Xiaojin looked at the man and said, "He doesn't have that ability. At most, he can only take money to do dirty work."
He stepped on the nail, a wisp of black smoke rising from the sole of his shoe. "Go back and tell Boss Lin that he can't afford this kind of food from Huguosi. If he sends any more of this three-yuan-a-pound junk, I'll have the aunties make it into minced meat for him."
Aunt Zhang had already grabbed a rolling pin. "What are you waiting for? Throw it out!"
The man tried to run, but Tieguai Li grabbed him by the back of his collar and shoved him out of the crowd. Aunt Liu's iron basin came first, followed by Aunt Zhang's rolling pin, and Old Li hit him on the butt with a tofu pudding spoon.
The man covered his head and ran out of the street corner. His hat fell to the ground and was kicked into the ditch by the child.
Tong Kexin still wants to pursue him.
Cheng Xiaojin called out to her, "Don't chase after him, Boss Lin is waiting for you to leave the furnace."
Tong Kexin turned around, porridge still dripping from her spoon, and asked, "So, we're just going to leave it at that?"
"He failed to break the deadlock today, and it will be even harder for him to explain when he gets back." Cheng Xiaojin looked at the manhole cover. "What we won is this pot."
A low dragon's roar came from the bottom of the well; this time it wasn't cold.
The black color on the three copper coins has faded somewhat, and the red thread no longer emits smoke.
The neighbors stood around the pot again, and the people who had been frightened back into their houses earlier came out with their bowls.
As Aunt Zhang was cursing, she tucked the rolling pin under her arm and placed a bowl of porridge in front of Sister Zhou's pancake cart.
"You stingy bastard, drink it yourself when you get back. I won't heat it up a second time if it gets cold."
Tong Kexin turned her face away and rubbed the corner of her eye.
Cheng Xiaojin sat back down on the small stool, his fingertips still aching inside his gloves.
Smoke rose from the street, bowls and chopsticks clattered, and the smoky aroma from the pot pressed down on the chill at the wellhead.
Tieguai Li handed him a bowl of porridge. "Eat up, gatekeeper."
Cheng Xiaojin couldn't take it, so Tong Kexin held it for him and brought it to his mouth with a spoon.
He took a sip. "Too much salt."
Tong Kexin glared at him.
"That's great, Yin Cheng has high blood pressure, this is a good opportunity to treat it."
Someone laughed at the street corner.
Beneath the manhole cover, the Zhenhai Railway is calm and steady.
The pot belonging to Sister Zhou is gone from Huguosi Street, and the voice calling for extra eggs early in the morning is gone, but the stove is lit again, and the person is back on the street.
As the sky began to lighten in the distance, a copper bell rang out from the direction of Liulichang.
This time, the whole street heard it.