Chapter 06
There were two sliding glass doors between the kitchen and the dining area.
Dr. Zhu stood outside the door, took off his gold-rimmed glasses, wiped them with a napkin, and put them back on.
Watching the organized scene before him, he thought that if he went in, he probably wouldn’t be able to help Wu Xing; instead, he would just disrupt the chef’s rhythm.
The Alpha was imitating the way Wu Xing had cleaned that afternoon, wiping down the corners and crevices that were easily overlooked.
A seductive, rich fragrance drifted from the kitchen, making oneâs mouth water.
Dr. Zhu and the Alpha sat at opposite ends of the dining table, tacitly avoiding each other’s gaze, obviously not knowing what to say.
It wasn’t until Wu Xing came out of the kitchen with the dishes that this eerie silence was broken.
A small white casserole dish emitted steam as soon as the lid was lifted, revealing tender, translucent radishes and large chunks of steak, all sprinkled with fresh, tender green celery bits.
“Have a taste.” As Wu Xing spoke, he ladled half a bowl of soup for each of them.
The soup was clear and bright; the beef fell off the bone at a single bite, and the radishes, having absorbed all the broth, melted the moment they touched the tongue.
Wu Xing turned back to the kitchen and brought out four more dishes: braised spring bamboo shoots in oil, egg-yolk pumpkin, Kung Pao chicken, and steamed egg with shrimp.
Every single dish was at the level of a signature dish at a local restaurant.
“Dr. Zhu, I remember you like flatbread. Try this; I think you’ll like it.”
The Alpha filled a large bowl of rice and used his chopsticks to pick up a piece of Kung Pao chicken, but upon hearing this, he didn’t show the same satisfied, happy expression he had just a moment ago.
So Wu Xing is that good to everyone, he thought. I am not special.
It was a stack of golden, glistening multi-layered scallion pancakes; the aroma of the green onions drilled straight into one’s nostrils.
The pancake was crispy on the outside and chewy on the inside, showing that genuine effort had been put into itâit didn’t crumble and flake everywhere upon biting.
“Wu Xing, your cooking is just too delicious,” Dr. Zhu sighed while eating, wondering what kind of life he had been living for the past thirty years.
Wu Xing shook his head, looking very modest.
“It’s just some home-style cooking.”
To be able to produce four dishes, a soup, and freshly griddled pancakes in such a short timeâwhile even managing to tidy up the kitchen messâwasn’t something just anyone could do.
The Omega took off his apron, hung it aside, and sat between the two of them.
“Iâm definitely coming over to mooch a meal off you next time,” Dr. Zhu said while drinking his soup, white mist misting over his glasses.
Wu Xing looked down and smiled, scooping a spoonful of steamed egg onto his white rice and mixing it.
He felt very grateful to Dr. Zhu; without this apartment, he wouldn’t have been able to make a decent dinner at all.
Beside him, the Alpha frowned imperceptibly upon hearing this. He took a bite of the egg-yolk pumpkin, seemingly not very fond of this landlord gentleman.
After Dr. Zhu left, Wu Xing prepared to clean up the mess.
“Xing-ge, let me do it.”
“Do you know how to wash dishes?” Looking at how the Alpha had worked that afternoon, Wu Xing wasn’t entirely confident in turning these tasks over to him.
“Xing-ge, teach me. I can learn.”
“Add a bit more dish soap.”
“Right, just scrub it like that.”
“Turn them upside down to air dry.”
Night deepened, and the windows blocked out the sound of the cicadas.
The Alphaâs bedroom was right next to Wu Xingâs. As he walked in, he accidentally knocked the lamp, and the room was plunged into total darkness.
The man clutched his chest, feeling an inexplicable panic and even some difficulty breathing, before fumbling in the dark to find the switch.
He hated dark rooms.
“Xing-ge, do you have a small desk lamp?”
Wu Xing looked at the Alpha, who was clutching his pillow, and asked, “Are you afraid of the dark?”
The Alpha, standing over six feet tall, nodded with a touch of embarrassment.
There was no desk lamp, so Wu Xing had to take out his backup flashlight, set it to the lowest brightness, and place it in the Alphaâs room.
A corner of the bedroom was illuminated, and the dim, yellow glow spilled onto the Omegaâs cheeks.
“Thank you, Xing-ge.”
“Go to sleep now. Iâll take you to get your health certificate tomorrow.”
“Mm.”
Early the next morning, Wu Xing took the Alpha to apply for a health certificate.
The manâs vein, from which blood had just been drawn, was pricked by another needle, leaving a tiny red dot.
In theory, the Alpha was a missing person and shouldn’t have been able to get a certificate, but since every food-handling worker was required to be licensed, Wu Xing had specifically brought a carton of cigarettes, hidden under his jacket, to slip to the young man processing the registration.
“Could you do us a favor?”
The young man accepted the cigarettes, looked over the Alphaâs medical report, and handed Wu Xing a form, saying, “Register his name, gender, and age.”
Wu Xing lowered his gaze and gripped his pen.
Gender: Male, Alpha.
What age should I write?
Wu Xing looked back at the amnesiac Alpha; he felt the man should be younger than himself, so he subtracted five years from his own age.
As for the name:
“What name would you like?”
The Alpha looked at Wu Xingâs slightly furrowed brow and smiled, “Xing-ge, you choose a name for me.”
Wu Xing was truly stumped. He started to write the surname ‘Wu’, but couldn’t think of a first name.
Wu Xingâs own name was given by his grandmother; she said that every time someone sang, “Twinkle, twinkle, little star,” the Omega would giggle, so that became his name.
“Are you done filling it out?”
“Almost.”
He remembered that the day he picked up the Alpha was the ninth, so he simply wrote ‘Jiu’ (Nine) for the name, turning the form in just as the staff member urged him a second time.
The health certificate was ready that same day.
“Xing-ge, does this mean I can be your apprentice now?” The Alpha walked over to Wu Xingâs side and pulled on his sleeve.
“Yes.”
Wu Xing looked at the amnesiac Alpha and continued, “From now on, you are Wu Jiu.”
“Twenty-three years old, an apprentice at Wuâs Wonton Shop.”
The Alpha didn’t remember who he was, nor could he grasp any of his past, but he now had a new name and a new life.
Everything he had, Wu Xing had given him.
“Wu Jiu,” the Alpha repeated the unfamiliar name silently.
“Can I call you A-Jiu?” Wu Xing sat on the seat of the electric tricycle without looking back, heading straight ahead.
In the summer breeze, A-Jiuâs answer drifted back.
“Okay.”
The day Wuâs Wonton Shop officially opened.
At four in the morning, Wu Xing transported the day’s ingredients on his electric tricycle.
Fresh pork went into the silver-gray meat grinder, turning into strands of pink meat paste.
A-Jiu turned on the faucet, bending down to wash the vegetables.
Wu Xing walked over and brought him a stool of the appropriate height: “It won’t be so tiring this way.”
“Thank you, Xing-ge.”
The two mixed the wonton fillings of all flavors, placed them in large iron trays, and began wrapping the wontons.
Wu Xing wore white gloves, wrapping the large wontons until each one looked like an ingot, while the small ones looked like goldfish.
He taught A-Jiu how to wrap them, but the large wontons A-Jiu made were always crooked; the small ones were passable.
Wu Xing decided to focus on the large ones and left the small wontons to his apprentice, A-Jiu.
Tray after tray of various fillings were wrapped into plump, round wontons.
In the large pot of broth, over ten ingredients like pork bones, ham, kelp, and dried scallops were stewing, and the rising steam filled the little shop with a heavenly aroma.
As time passed, stainless steel trays were stacked higher and higher, almost burying Wu Xing and A-Jiu.
A-Jiu had gone to the market earlier to buy barley bouquets, a red carpet, and a circular string of firecrackers for the grand opening.
7:16 AM.
The pop-pop-pop of the firecrackers jumped continuously into the air, splashing orange sparks.
Wu Xing stood at the entrance of his wonton shop, covering his ears. A-Jiu was no longer wearing his head bandage.
The two golden barley bouquets were placed on either side of the red carpet, with a sign hanging on them: “Grand Opening, Wontons Half Price.”
It was still early, but office workers passing by saw the half-price offer and walked in to eat before rushing off to work.
Residents near the street, tired of soy milk and deep-fried dough sticks, also came to try something fresh.
“Xing-ge, one order of corn and fresh pork wontons, and one order of small wontons.”
“Coming right up.”
“Xing-ge, one order of shepherdâs purse and pork wontons, dry-tossed.”
“Coming right up.”
“Add one order of fresh shrimp and crab roe wontons.”
A-Jiu wore a mask, holding an order pad in his hand. He didn’t just take orders and collect money; he had to serve the wontons and wipe the tables, hardly having a moment to stop.
Wu Xing was responsible for the open-kitchen stove. The mountain of wontons they had wrapped that morning was already half gone as the influx of customers continued.
He had to wrap more while he boiled the existing ones to make sure they lasted until noon.
“These wontons are so delicious,” a girl said, taking photos to send to her best friend while eating.
“Boss, will they still be half-price tomorrow?” An elderly grandfather, who had dropped off his grandson at school, slowly stood up.
Hearing the customer’s question, Wu Xing responded through the window: “Just for today. If you like them, you can also pack some raw ones to keep in your freezer.”
“Are raw wontons cheaper than cooked ones?”
“Yes, the price list is on the wall.”
On the opening day, Boss Wu and his apprentice A-Jiu were busy from morning until night, eating wontons for all three of their own meals.
After the initial rush, business began to cool down rapidly.
For one thing, their shop only sold wontons, unlike other restaurants with more variety; for another, without the half-price promotion, customers naturally dwindled.
Wu Xing sat at a wooden table, starting to calculate the revenue for the past two weeks. Even without counting labor costs for himself and A-Jiu, the turnover wasn’t exactly impressive.
“Xing-ge, itâs time to close up shop.”
