OFTLHFRO C35

Chapter 35: Claypot Rice

Since their shop was in a corner spot without much traffic anyway, when they arrived at the tofu shop, Luo Mingchen and Huo Yan designed a wooden signboard to place at the entrance.

Because Luo Mingchen’s handwriting was atrocious, he instead painted cute cartoon-like pictures of puddings and tofu with paint.

The calligraphy in the middle, however, was written by Huo Yan. His characters were bold, fluid, and sharp—just like the man himself—entirely different from Luo Mingchen’s whimsical drawings.

“You… couldn’t make the characters a bit rounder? You know, cuter?” Luo Mingchen asked, raising his head at Huo Yan.

Huo Yan, feigning innocence, replied, “Should I try again?”

So he wrote several versions on paper.

After looking them over, Luo Mingchen was silent for a while, then said, “I think the first one was best.”

Thus, on the board, two completely clashing styles existed side by side—yet strangely, it gave off an odd harmony.

Once the paint dried, Huo Yan hung the signboard by the shop.

Little Huo Xinyue reached out her small hand toward it. “Daddy, want!”

Carrying her away, Luo Mingchen laughed, “Daddy will draw you another one later. This one is for making money.”

Paint on wood was no joke. If she smeared it with her little hands and food got involved… the picture was terrifying.

Hearing it was “for making money,” the girl obediently retracted her little claws. “Pretty.”

“Mm, I think so too,” Luo Mingchen said, smiling, leading her inside.

There, he drew another picture for her with crayons. As soon as she was holding the drawing, her big eyes turned hopefully toward the colorful pens. “Daddy, want!”

Deliberately teasing, Luo Mingchen asked, “Want what?”

Flustered, she pointed at the pens. “Want that.”

“This isn’t ‘that.’ It’s colored pens. Say it with me—colored pens.”

Looking into her earnest wide eyes, he repeated slowly: “Colored pens.”

The little girl copied carefully, “Want… colored pens.”

“Good girl.”

He handed her one, then glanced at Huo Yan with a smile. “You really don’t know how to be a father. You can’t even teach her how to speak properly.”

Huo Yan looked helpless. “I thought they only start learning to talk after three years old.”

“…Haven’t you ever watched other people’s children?”

“Why would I watch them?”

Huo Yan had never liked children. He only raised these three because he had no choice. When Huo Xinyue had been a baby, she’d wailed through every night—hungry, dirty, crying—but now at least she’d grown easier.

The remark left Luo Mingchen speechless. Clearly, he would need to take charge of teaching their daughter words and characters, or this bright child might be wasted. Just the thought made his heart ache.

After organizing the shop, Huo Yan started a fire while Luo Mingchen cooked. Little Xinyue nibbled a lollipop in her baby-walker with a rattle toy.

The crayons were toxic, so Luo Mingchen never let her draw unsupervised. However obedient she might be, a two-year-old was still prone to grabbing or licking everything. If she mistook a crayon for candy, it would be disastrous.

For lunch, Luo Mingchen made claypot rice with four varieties: chicken, pork ribs, braised pork belly, and tomato-egg.

That morning, he had told the brothers to come eat with their friend Ming Yuanjing, and to bring along the three boys who had fought them before.

He didn’t know whether they’d manage to gather all three, but he prepared portions for them anyway.

He also cooked a pot of sweet mung bean soup, stir-fried silky tofu with cherry tomatoes, and made a cucumber pickle.

Just as he was placing the cucumbers on the table, a voice asked, “Are you selling puddings today?”

Looking up, Luo Mingchen saw the same young scholar. Smiling, he said, “Yes, give me a moment.”

He set the puddings on the counter, wrapped one, and took the coin. Then he laid a sheer cloth over the display.

The tofu itself was limited, but new shop openings still called for firecrackers.

When everyone arrived, Luo Mingchen had Huo Yan casually toss out a string of firecrackers and bang a gong twice. “The tofu shop is officially open for business—!”

Then he ushered the students in for food.

The first-time visitors: “…”

The eldest boy murmured uncertainly, “Uncle… this is how you open a shop? There wasn’t even anyone here.”

“It doesn’t matter. Most puddings are for you academy kids anyway. Tofu goes to the restaurant.”

At that moment, Luo Mingchen brought over the claypot rice, with Huo Yan carrying several bowls.

“I wasn’t sure what flavors you’d like, so I just made a few. Pick whichever you prefer—one bowl each,” Luo Mingchen said, setting the tomato-egg one in front of his daughter.

A two-year-old couldn’t be fed much spice—it might upset her stomach.

The fragrant aroma filled the room. The boys swallowed hard but still politely urged each other to go first.

Chuckling, Luo Mingchen said to Ming Yuanjing, “Start with you.”

Everyone turned, and the chubby boy blushed red. Nervously, he said, “Th-then… I’ll have the braised pork.”

Once he had chosen, the others followed in turn, each picking their favorite.

But just as Luo Mingchen had taken two bites, a group of students arrived to buy puddings.

Huo Yuhui instinctively rose, but Luo Mingchen pressed him down. “You eat—I’ll go.”

Even so, Huo Yan joined him to help handle the money.

Left behind, Yuhui fed their little sister from a cooler bowl.

The pots were too hot to touch, so Xinyue’s was ladled into a small wooden bowl with a spoon.

Watching the adults leave, one bright-eyed boy sighed, “Yuhui, your Little Daddy’s cooking is amazing. Better than our family chef!”

Another chimed in, “This rice is delicious—the crispy crust on the bottom is so fragrant!”

Smiling faintly, Yuhui said, “Everything Little Daddy makes is good.”

One of the others said wistfully, “If only this were for sale.”

Seeing the others glance at him, he grinned awkwardly. “I mean, it’s a shame not to open a restaurant. With this skill, customers would flood in.”

Huo Xiang beamed. “We probably will open one someday.”

The bright-eyed boy said eagerly, “Then be sure to tell us! I’ll bring plenty of friends to support you.”

“Right! I didn’t even know you opened today,” added the eldest.

Otherwise, he wouldn’t have arrived empty-handed. He should’ve had his study servant buy some gifts.

Ming Yuanjing wanted to buy more puddings, but afraid Luo Mingchen would refuse his money, he kept quiet.

The puddings were quickly sold out. The men returned to eat, and afterward, the group sipped cool, sweet mung bean soup.

When they left, Luo Mingchen even gave them take-home puddings and fruit.

Full and carrying gifts, they returned to the academy—and immediately had their servants buy more tofu to take home.

Yes, they wanted to support their friends, but the tofu really was unlike any they’d ever eaten. So tender, so fresh—even their parents would appreciate it.

Footnotes:

• Claypot rice (煲仔飯, bāozǎifàn) – A Cantonese specialty where rice is cooked in claypots with toppings like chicken, pork, or ribs. The burnt crispy crust (guōbā) is especially cherished.