Novel Full Chapter 137 - 120: Holy Cow! This Was Made by a 20-Year-Old Chef?
Chapter 137: Chapter 120: Holy Cow! This Was Made by a 20-Year-Old Chef?
The little one was so small and cute, you couldn’t help but look twice.
"So tiny and adorable!" Huang Ying had already leaned in, her eyes sparkling as she gazed at Zhou Momo.
A sudden shadow fell over Zhou Momo, making her subconsciously take half a step back. She tilted her head to look up at Huang Ying, a shocked expression on her face. "What a big sister... You’re amazing!"
The Zhou Family had no shortage of tall, strapping men, but Zhou Momo had never seen a sister this big.
Zhao Hong was on the stocky side, but since she was always working, her flesh was firm, so she didn’t look that large.
Huang Ying was plump and would always ride her bike rather than walk. She was wearing a loose, figure-hiding cotton maxi dress, and as she suddenly drew near, from Zhou Momo’s perspective, she looked like a mountain.
In the little girl’s world, her concept of beauty and ugliness had not yet been tainted by adult influence.
Thus, she was simply shocked by Huang Ying’s size and sincerely thought she was incredible.
Huang Ying froze for a second, then couldn’t help but laugh.
She could see the adoration in Zhou Momo’s eyes—it was a pure, heartfelt thought.
It had been a long time since she’d seen that look in anyone’s eyes. Usually, it was disgust, contempt, and the sound of laughter behind her back.
’But this little girl actually said I’m amazing!’
’I must spoil her! Spoil her rotten!’
Huang Ying unzipped the small, pink crossbody bag she was wearing, grabbed a handful of candy, and smilingly offered it to Zhou Momo. "Here, let big sister give you some candy."
There were fruit-flavored hard candies and even chocolate coins.
Zhou Momo’s eyes lit up, but she didn’t reach for the candy. Instead, she looked back at Mrs. Zhao.
’Mommy said not to take food from strangers.’
"Your big sister is giving them to you, go ahead and take them," Mrs. Zhao said, nodding with a smile.
Only then did Zhou Momo extend her two small hands. She cupped them together to receive the candy from Huang Ying and said sweetly, "Thank you, big sister!"
"You’re welcome!" Huang Ying said, shaking her head with a smile.
Huang Bing watched from the side with a goofy grin. He patted down all his pockets but only managed to pull out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, which he silently stuffed back in.
"This is my motorcycle. Want to go for a spin?" Huang Bing said, patting the bike. He remembered how she had run out to marvel at it earlier.
Zhou Momo nodded, then quickly shook her head. "No, thank you."
"Why not? This is the latest Jialing 70! It goes WHOOSH—super fast." Huang Bing pressed on, convinced no kid could refuse a ride on his new bike.
"Brother said I’m not allowed to ride in other people’s vehicles, especially not motorcycles," Zhou Momo said, shaking her head with a resolute look in her eyes.
Everyone laughed at her words.
"See? Even a three-year-old knows you look like a bad guy," Huang He said, twisting the knife.
"There’s something seriously wrong with that brother of hers," Huang Bing muttered, unconvinced.
"Is that Huang Ying? How did you get so small again?" Mrs. Xiang said, looking at Zhou Momo and beckoning with a smile. "Come here, let Grandma have a look."
"Grandma, *I’m* Huang Ying," she quickly interjected, stepping forward to grasp the old woman’s hand. "See? I’m this big now!" she said with a grin.
"Oh, my! What has Shulan been feeding you? She’s raised you so well," the old lady said, beaming as she held Huang Ying’s hand.
"Please, have a seat over here," Zhao Dong said, guiding them. Everyone began to take their seats.
With the four members of the Huang Family and five from the Zhao Family, they could just barely squeeze around a single square dining table. It was a tight fit.
Huang He glanced at Huang Bing, who was being squished to the very edge of the table by Huang Ying. He turned to Zhao Tieying and said politely, "Excuse me, boss. Could we put another table next to this one? It’d be nice to have a little more room to eat comfortably."
"Of course," Zhao Tieying replied. She called Zhou Miao over to bring another table and push it against theirs.
It was certainly more spacious, but with two square tables pushed together to form a long rectangle, it wouldn’t be easy for the people at either end to reach the dishes.
This made Zhao Tieying realize that if she wanted to accommodate large parties like this, she would need to get a few large, ten-person round tables.
"Boss, you can tell Zhou Yan to start cooking now," Zhao Dong said to Zhao Tieying with a smile.
"Got it," Zhao Tieying replied, heading into the kitchen.
"The table setup isn’t very professional. Not a single round table," Huang He finally commented in a low voice, looking around. "For two families eating together, it’s common to have ten or more people. A setup like this means a lot of potential customers can’t dine here. The main dining hall is actually quite large. Why fill it with so many square tables? Do they even fill up on a normal day?"
"Not only do they fill up, but if you come late, you often have to wait in line," Zhao Dong said with a smile. "Most of our weekday customers are workers from the factory, and they usually come in groups of three to five. For them, square tables are more practical than round ones. The restaurant is usually closed on weekends; this is the first time it’s open. I expect things will be adjusted in the future."
"Wait in line?" Huang He sounded surprised. His eyes scanned the restaurant. The walls were whitewashed, the floor was bare cement, and the ceiling didn’t even have a false top—just ten incandescent bulbs hanging from wires. It all looked rather plain.
The menu on the wall, however, was interesting. It consisted of small wooden plaques, each with the name and price of a dish.
The categories were quite comprehensive—noodles, braised dishes, stir-fries, marinated meats, and cold appetizers—but the number of actual dishes available was pitifully small.
For braised dishes, there were only braised pork ribs and beef with dried bamboo shoots. The stir-fries were shredded beef, Twice-Cooked Pork, and flash-fried pork liver, plus a Huo Xiang Carp. The marinated selection was limited to pig’s head and pig’s trotters. They were all very common dishes for a small restaurant.
The menu was even less extensive than a typical small diner’s.
There was one dish, Kneeling Beef, that looked unfamiliar. His ancestors were from Suji, yet he had never heard of it.
The prices were nothing special—a bit higher than a state-run restaurant, and even a little more expensive than a typical Sichuan Cuisine place.
’And for *this*, the textile factory workers were lining up to eat?’