A meal needs staples, and with five of them plus Azhe's dad—six people total—steaming 12 mixed-flour buns would be just right.
The meat was already stewing, and with the fire stoked, it didn't need constant watching. Qian Bin went inside to knead dough for the buns.
Steaming buns wasn't much trouble. With everyone pitching in, the dough was kneaded in no time.
The dough was placed in a basin, covered with a cloth, and left to rise.
Li Xiangdong and the others sat around the table, sipping water, smoking, and chatting with laughter.
Qian Bin, who'd come in later, shared stories from his years at the state-run restaurant, recounting all sorts of bizarre incidents that truly opened their eyes.
"Binzi, if you put it like that, I'm scared to eat at your restaurant. Are the waiters really that bold? Aren't they afraid of getting beat?" Xiang Lin asked curiously. His family was poor, so he'd never eaten at a state-run restaurant growing up, and the countryside where he'd been sent had no restaurants at all.
Qian Bin grinned, grabbed a Daqianmen cigarette from the table, lit it, and said, "Why would I lie? Our restaurant closes at 7:30, but the two aunties handling cash and cleaning start giving dirty looks by 6:00. If you don't leave, they sit across from you, staring while you eat. As for getting beat? No way. Who'd dare? You think our kitchen crew's just sitting around? Anyone causing trouble would get the crap beaten out of them."
Zhang Sen frowned. "That's not right, Binzi. A while back, I took my wife and kid to your place for dumplings, and no one gave us a hard time."
Qian Bin smirked smugly. "We're brothers. If you come to eat and don't delay closing, it's no issue, no matter how late. With me and my dad there, who'd mess with you?"
"Your job's the best, way better than mine or Xiao Linzi's. Sometimes when I'm pedaling my tricycle past Chang'an Avenue and see those taxi sedans, I'm green with envy. I pedal and think, why can't I drive? Driving a sedan's so cool—good money and looks impressive," Zhang Sen said wistfully, his tone tinged with sourness.
"Stop dreaming, Sanmu. If you want to drive, try getting into a transport company. Learning to drive a truck might be possible, but driving a taxi sedan? Forget it," Li Xiangdong said. He didn't want to crush his friend, but reality was reality—don't chase what's out of reach.
Back then, ordinary folks didn't take taxis; they were mainly for foreign guests. Taxi drivers weren't like later years, where anyone could apply. You needed a recommendation, then had to pass a political review and cultural exam. The requirements were so strict—harder than getting into a top university later on. Those selected were outstanding young representatives with honors, competing with elite cadres' kids for limited spots. It was cutthroat.
Even getting into a transport company to drive a truck wasn't easy. You had to know how to drive and repair. What if the truck broke down mid-journey? There were no repair shops or tow trucks on the road. Calling for help nearby was a gamble. If the locals were kind, you might get a cornbread bun and a ladle of cold water. But if they were greedy, the whole village might team up to bury you.
That's why, despite knowing how to drive, Li Xiangdong never considered working for a transport company.
Zhang Sen waved a hand and sighed. "I'm just jealous, that's all. I don't have what it takes. I'll stick to pedaling my tricycle."
"Things will get better bit by bit. Opportunities will come," Li Xiangdong consoled, then turned to Qian Bin. "Binzi, you're not working this afternoon. Did you take leave?"
Qian Bin shook his head. "No need. Our restaurant got two more returned educated youth assigned, so we've got more workers than tables. The boss said whoever's busy can rest. My dad just needs to say a word."
Azhe asked, "No pay cut?"
"Nope, but this year's benefits might take a hit," Qian Bin said with a sigh. He hadn't cared before, but with his kid due soon and expenses piling up, it stung. Luckily, as an only son, his dad could help out.
"Alright, brothers, the fire's about right. Let's check if the meat's tender," Qian Bin said.
Without his reminder, they hadn't noticed how time flew. They'd been chatting for two hours, and it was nearly 6:00 p.m.
They stepped outside, and as the door opened, the courtyard filled with the aroma of meat, making everyone swallow hard.
Azhe's dad opened his door, standing at the east wing. "Binzi, your cooking's almost as good as your dad's. This meat smells amazing."
Li Xiangdong said, "Binzi, Uncle rarely praises you. You've gotta drink a few with him later."
"Definitely. I'll make sure to toast Uncle properly," Qian Bin replied, grinning. Being praised by a cultured man like Azhe's dad felt good.
Azhe's dad shook his head. "I'll pass. You boys won't relax with me around. I'll eat a bit on my own."
"Let's listen to my dad. Binzi, pull the meat out and cut a couple pieces for us to try. It smells too good," Azhe said, knowing his dad drinking with them would make everyone awkward, himself included.
Zhang Sen and Xiang Lin went inside to grab the table, while Azhe fetched a cutting board and knife from the kitchen. Everything was set.
Qian Bin, using two rags, called Xiang Lin to help lift the iron bucket off the stove. It was brimming with meat and broth.
The offal was fine, but the pig's head was so tender it was falling apart. With makeshift tools, it took effort to fish it out.
Azhe pinched off a piece of meat, popped it in his mouth, and swallowed after a couple chews, gasping from the heat. "Burned my tongue, but this meat's delicious."
Azhe's dad shot him a look. "There's so much meat—we can't finish it tonight, and it won't keep in this heat. Take some home for your families. Leave just enough for us."
A whole pig's head, a full set of offal, hooves, and more—it was too much for them to eat in one go, and it wouldn't last in the hot weather.
Qian Bin sharpened the knife and said, "Let's do as Uncle says. Azhe, grab more bowls. I'll cut the meat, and we'll each take some home to satisfy our families' cravings tonight."
He had to say it since he'd provided the meat. Zhang Sen and Xiang Lin, despite wanting to treat their wives and kids, couldn't bring themselves to suggest it.
Li Xiangdong had already claimed the pig's tail for his daughter, but getting more to take home was great. It'd stop his mom from thinking he was always fooling around, neglecting the family.
He stepped up to the cutting board, watching Qian Bin slice. "Binzi, take one pig's ear home for your dad to pair with drinks. Leave the other for Uncle, and keep the pig's snout for him too."
"Cut extra pig's head meat and offal for Xiang Lin and Zhang Sen to take home for their wives and kids. For us drinking, bones and hooves are fine. Don't forget the pig's tail for me—I'm taking it whole for my daughter. Don't cut it!"