Her Cultivation Diary
Chapter 819 - 809. It has been eaten.

Chapter 819: 809. It has been eaten.

After the renovation, the private dining rooms at Changleju are quite exquisitely done, spacious for large parties and delicate for smaller ones.

For example, Director Zhao and Mrs. Zhao were led into a small but ingeniously designed private room that was neither too vast nor too cramped, with just the right touch of rustic charm and simplicity accompanying the richness of the food.

So much so, that Mrs. Zhao was still in a delightful mood when she sat down and asked the waiter beside her:

"What are the house specialties tonight?"

The waiter almost instinctively began to say "silver ear mushroom soup," but then abruptly swallowed his words, and with a beaming smile, presented the menu:

"Anything on our gourmet menu is sure to please as long as you’re willing to try it."

"Oh!" Mrs. Zhao was a bit taken aback: "Seems quite a bit pricier than before, huh?"

"Yes!" The waiter didn’t hide it, just replied with a smile: "There’s a good reason for the higher prices! If you’d like to taste our classic dishes again, here’s another menu with our classics."

At Mrs. Zhao’s age, she cared only for food to be satisfying and tasty, whether it was expensive or cheap. Before she even made a choice, she already flipped to the page with the chestnut cake.

Goodness me! It’s that tiny chestnut cake, no bigger than a quail egg! And there’s the dessert section with silver ear mushroom soup... Eh? Why is there also rice soup? At 128 yuan for a small pot, it’s a lot more affordable than the 288 yuan per bowl of silver ear mushroom soup, but...

This isn’t a rustic farmhouse restaurant, so why is rice soup even on the menu?

She looked at the waiter.

The waiter still had a smile on his face: "You’ll know as soon as you try."

Thinking about chestnut cake and silver ear mushroom soup, as well as the tea leaves that have now steeped to a mild flavor in her teacup, Mrs. Zhao found it quite hard to decide!

She simply pushed the menu away: "Hurry up, you choose!"

Director Zhao said nothing, but quickly flipped through the pages, pointing at the chestnut cake: "Two servings of this!"

"Plus, some steamed tonghao... weren’t you saying you wanted to lose weight? This one isn’t high in calories."

"Should we try the rice soup? If it’s not to your liking, we can switch to the silver ear mushroom soup—I think Boss Chang is quite confident about it; the taste should be good."

"And this, green pepper and eggs... your restaurant’s dishes are getting more like farmhouse style! Why are all the dishes on this menu vegetarian, with hardly any meat?"

Indeed, even if there was meat, it was paired with vegetables.

The waiter, with a good memory, honestly replied: "Our boss says that the suppliers are unwilling to provide high-quality meat for the time being, so we can’t just offer anything subpar, and that’s why we currently only have vegetables."

Mrs. Zhao was quite satisfied: "That’s fine by me, who bothers with all that rich food, the vegetable dishes are nice... you’re charging that price for rice soup, why isn’t rice available on the menu?"

The waiter laughed and gestured with his hands the size of the pot: "Our boss only managed to wheedle this much rice from the supplier, and tonight it’s a treat for everyone, one portion each. There won’t be any afterwards, so it’s not listed on the menu."

Boss Chang knows how to run his business. The small pot of rice he grudgingly obtained on his way out is now being used to build a good reputation. The more precious it seems, and particularly because he doesn’t charge for it, the stronger impression it makes on everyone.

At least Director Zhao and his wife were thoroughly pleased and looking forward to it.

...

Meanwhile, in the next big private room, a chubby old man was pulled together by old friends with just one sentence:

"If you’re dining alone and don’t want to waste, you can only order two dishes, but we can order 20!"

With those words, he obediently turned around like a spinning top. Then the group, eying the menu, couldn’t help but feel relieved that they didn’t have to pay tonight—

They weren’t businesspeople specifically, nor was this a review project. Who wouldn’t feel the pinch spending tens of thousands just for a meal?

It seemed that Xiaochang, who used to be quite composed, was taking such big steps now. Could it be that the dishes are really so extraordinary?

The specialty menu does not have many dishes, and with just ten or twenty people gathered, they could almost try each one in turn.

Only the chubby old man was a bit puzzled: The selection doesn’t seem that large, and coming a few more times might just bore one with the choices. How come they are so confident, daring to invite so many people with such fanfare?

As he thought about the taste of the chestnut cake, he also became somewhat impatient and fidgety.

Looking around the room, many others also seemed restless. The chubby old man looked around and suddenly asked the waiter curiously, "Why are you all wearing N95 masks now?"

Weren’t the masks used to be those clear ones that don’t touch the face? To avoid covering the face and making customers feel disrespected and uneasy.

The waiter responded with a sense of grievance, "Boss Chang said the food is too fragrant, and without good masks, we might not resist snacking on it."

This remark struck the private room with surprise, followed by a burst of laughter:

"Oh, this Xiaochang, such a sly one!"

"What’s on this young man’s mind every day?"

"Not bad at all, the courage of someone green! Daring to let waiters subtly brag like this, when the food is served later, I must find out just how good it is!"

As they spoke, the door was gently knocked, and then someone from the prep room brought in a hot serving of rice soup:

"Boss Chang just instructed, rice soup nourishes the body and stomach, so it’s the first dish to be served to let everyone drink it while it’s hot."

As the clear cover was lifted, those who were about to crack a joke involuntarily sniffed:

It smells so good!

Now, not many people use a clay stove, let alone specially cook rice soup at home. Many of them here would struggle to find such a pure rice fragrance unless they go to an authentic rural restaurant.

But the rice soup in front of them was different.

Perhaps because it had been served for a while already, a thick layer of rice oil had formed around the edges of the bowl, milky white, tender and rich. One knows it’s starchy, but still can’t help but regard it as full of nutrients and essence.

At that moment, the fragrance wafted through the air, and though light, it carried an unmistakable and unique aroma of rice.

Just one whiff could take you back—

A small child huddles in front of a blazing stove, in a black iron pot someone scoops spoonful after spoonful of milky rice soup out.

Drinking it hot, soothingly warm with every sip, gliding from the throat down to the stomach, the whole body feels cozily warm, as if all bad moods could be healed.

Especially in winter, holding a big bowl, standing in the corridor, taking a hearty gulp—it seems like the heat on your forehead is about to radiate out—

Hey, hey, what?

Am I really getting warm?

The chubby old man came to his senses, his round body already warm and feverish, with a little sweat seeping out from his back.

Looking down, he didn’t realize when he had gotten hold of the bowl, having drunk half of the rice soup already.

He stared at the white porcelain bowl in his hand, coming back to reality:

"Is your food supplier reliable? How can it taste so good?"