Lao Hongbin's small restaurant is the third one opened at the entrance of the alley. The words "Hongbin Home Cooking" on the door lintel are darkened by oil smoke, but they are more reassuring than the neon sign opposite. Every day before dawn, he had to walk through the dew to the vegetable market to pick the freshest vegetables. When he came back, he would always see Lao Dong squatting on the threshold smoking a dry pipe, holding in his hand the peppers he had just picked from his own vegetable garden.
Lao Dong is a "non-staff member" of the restaurant. He has no salary, but he cares more than anyone else. When there were many customers, he would wear a greasy apron and work in the kitchen. His knife skills were not as sharp as those of Lao Hongbin, but he could always hand over a spoon at the critical moment. When there were few customers, he would sit at the door on a small pony and chat with regular customers about household matters. Whose children were going to school and whose elders were hospitalized? He remembered it better than the ledger.
The stories in the restaurant are richer than the menu: the truck driver who comes to drink hangover soup in the early morning, the down-and-out painter who always likes to buy on credit, the single mother who comes to pack a portion of braised pork on time every day... Lao Hongbin holds the spoon, Laodong Chuan cuisine, and the sound of the clinking pots and pans hides the warmth of ordinary life.
But life is never a smooth sailing banquet. The rent has increased, the ingredients have become more expensive, and the newly opened Internet celebrity store next door has taken away business. Lao Hongbin tossed and turned at night and couldn't sleep, so Lao Dong silently fried a plate of peanuts and drank with him until dawn. "What are you afraid of?" Lao Dong sipped his wine, "What we are stewing on the stove is not just vegetables, but also people's hearts."
When the first ray of morning light shone through the window into the kitchen, Lao Hongbin picked up the spatula, and Lao Dong handed over the oil bottle. The smoke of the new day's fireworks rose again in the sizzling wok.
