"Noodles are here!" The owner was truly a boisterous man, serving the noodles in a stainless steel basin, brimming with clear soup noodles, along with three ceramic bowls for individual use. He also brought out a basin of hot, spicy minced pork, a bowl of chili oil, and a basin of Kung Pao chicken as a side dish. Finally, he tossed three to five heads of garlic onto the table.
Simon took a photo of the Long Live band and returned to the table to eat. Su Xiangli was holding her bowl and chopsticks, looking a bit flustered. The owner, with a flourish, used communal chopsticks to scoop about a pound of noodles for the young girl, then gestured for her to choose her preferred toppings.
Simon grinned, scooping some of the minced pork fried with broad bean paste, along with the chili and chicken, into his own bowl. Only children make choices, he thought, I want it all. After mixing his noodles, Simon took a head of garlic and meticulously began peeling it.
The owner watched him eat a mouthful of garlic with a mouthful of noodles, looking as uninhibited as a northern boy, and was quite pleased. He repeatedly asked him, "Do you want more? I'll go cook some more."
"Enough, that's about enough. No trouble, let's eat, eat the noodles."
Simon saw that the basin in the middle of the table contained at least six jin of noodles, like slop in a pigsty, a messy heap. Diners without a strong heart and thick skin would truly find it hard to accept. At least Su Xiangli found it very hard to accept; her culinary cultural perspective was undergoing a violent shock.
What did a dining table look like in her memory? Delicate small plates holding small portions of food, bowls and dishes clustered together, looking like a beautiful, intricate bouquet of flowers at first glance, spoons and chopsticks arranged like branches, neat and orderly. But now it was truly too different; the food was served in a basin! A basin was a tool for washing one's face, how could it be used to hold food?
The great "cooked dish" should reside elegantly on a divine porcelain pedestal, not squat in a basin!
Simon could tell at a glance that the young girl was sulking, so he took her bowl, put in a spoonful of chili oil, some chicken, stirred it, and twirled it, "Come, open your mouth, ah--"
Su Xiangli resisted for half a second, then silently accepted the feeding.
Simon became impatient after feeding her twice, "Eat it yourself, I have something to ask."
"Oh."
Simon turned to the owner and asked, "I want to buy discs from Wanqing and Long Live, and also a CD player. How much?"
"These are not for sale, little brother. You seem kind, but I still can't sell them to you. Many of these things are out of print, and I've put so much effort into them."
Simon explained, "I'm buying Wanqing's 'Kill That Shijiazhuang Man' because my Great-Grandfather likes this song. Does he know who he is?"
"Ho, young man, you're quite a joker. How would I know who your Great-Grandfather is? I'm not a fortune teller." The owner's mouth was full of garlic, stinging his eyes and nose.
"My Great-Grandfather's name is Lu Xuefeng."
"Oh, Lu Xuefeng, huh?!" The owner slammed the table, making the bowls and basins on it tremble. Su Xiangli nearly poked her chopsticks into her nose.
Simon smiled and said, "I said my Great-Grandfather was the guitarist for Long Live."
"Is it really him?" Tears welled up in the owner's narrow eyes. "I'm his idol, no, no, he's my fan, no, bah, bah, ah!" He clapped his hands and burst into laughter, "I really like him!"
"He's a farmer now."
The owner looked blissful, "It's fine, it's fine. Even if my idol is scooping manure, he's scooping it in the most artistic way." Only after saying this did he realize his loose tongue. Reflecting on it, he immediately lost his appetite. However, the child's mind was pure and didn't think much of his coarse language.
With his Great-Grandfather as a guarantee, Simon finally got what he wanted. A mid-range second-hand CD player cost him 1,600 after a discount, mainly because he couldn't shop on e-commerce platforms. The owner also gave him one album each from Wanqing and Long Live. Simon also asked for a few other albums, but not many, as the owner was reluctant to part with them.
Finally, the owner entrusted Simon to bring back his idol's autograph.
All the items were packed into a small cardboard box, sealed, and handed to the robots to carry, but they couldn't be seen by them. If they were seen, all the money Simon spent, and all the time, would be wasted.
He still had to figure out how to fool his parents...
Su Xiangli suddenly asked him, "You're so rich, how did you save it? My parents don't let me spend money."
"There's a saying, 'taken from the people, used for the people,'" Simon shook his head.
"What's that? You're just fooling me."
"I told you my Great-Grandfather gave me a pair of headphones."
"You sold the headphones?"
"No, it has nothing to do with the headphones. My money was given by Teacher Zheng, but now the headphones are with him as collateral. I have to earn money later to redeem them."
"Ugh, how stingy." Su Xiangli pouted, "You had it all planned out, what a pity."
"Pity what?"
"Nothing, let's go home, don't ask." Su Xiangli touched the phone in her pocket. This time she specifically asked for some pocket money, thinking Simon couldn't afford it, but now she had lost her chance to show off.
Alas, it was just a small amount of money.
"Ahem, let's not talk about that for now. I need to put the things we bought at your house first."
"Why?"
"My parents definitely won't agree, and explaining it will be troublesome. I plan to take you to Great-Grandfather's house during the National Day holiday. I'll take the things there then."
"Isn't it just a sing—mmph!" Su Xiangli's mouth was covered by Simon.
"It's that thing, don't say it."
Su Xiangli was a bit suffocated by his hand and couldn't help but stick out her tongue and lick Simon's palm.
"Ew, you're disgusting." Simon took out a handkerchief to wipe his hand in distaste.
"Ugh, your hand is salty."
"Alright, alright, stop talking. I know my hand is salty, how can it not be salty when I'm sweating?" Simon lifted his hand to sniff it, then exclaimed, "Your saliva stinks!"
"It's garlic that stinks! No, I don't stink, you stink the most! You're stinky and bad!" Su Xiangli was furious.
Simon shook his head, "Don't say that. They say, 'near vermilion, one becomes red; near ink, one becomes black.' I was originally just bad, I must have become stinky from being with you for so long. Confucius said, 'To live with good people is like entering a room full of fragrant orchids. After a long time, one no longer smells its fragrance, as one has become one with it. To live with bad people is like entering a fish market. After a long time, one no longer smells its stench, as one has also become one with it.' Do you know what that means?"
"I!" Su Xiangli argued, then realized she truly didn't understand at all. So she turned to Baiyang Yangzhen and asked, "What does all that he said mean?"
Baiyang Yangzhen: (? _? ) "Student Lu said you are a salted fish."
Su Xiangli was stunned for a moment, "That's it?"
Baiyang Yangzhen: "Mm."
Little brother: "Xiao Lu's quote is from 'The Analects'—"
"Shut up." x 2
Su Xiangli pounced on Simon, "I'll kill you!"
"AWSL!"
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