On the first night of the Mid-Autumn Festival holiday, Qin Zixin decided to indulge herself; she would feast all night. As soon as school let out, she, as was her custom, commanded Yang Qichao to drive her to the farmers’ market she frequented.
This farmers’ market had existed for a considerable time; at least since Qin Zixin was old enough to remember, it had been the local produce market. Even then, the area felt ancient, and all the nearby residents sourced their groceries from its stalls.
The market was about a ten-minute walk from her home, neither particularly close nor excessively far. Its footprint was modest, a full circuit around the interior and exterior covering roughly the size of a standard sports field.
It sold a wide array of fresh and cooked foods, from live pigeons, chickens, ducks, and fish, to fruits, vegetables, and seafood, extending to steamed buns, mantou, and flower rolls, as well as various ready-to-eat dishes. It encompassed most of what the native Nanling population consumed.
Most bizarrely, there was even a funeral parlor inside, whose owner sold not only burial clothes but also wreaths and joss paper. Aside from these inauspicious items, the market also offered various seasonings, clearly demonstrating a philosophy of profiting from both the living and the dead.
As a child, Qin Zixin often accompanied Tang Yuyu to this farmers’ market. Being a greedy eater, Tang Yuyu would always buy her a few yuan worth of pig tongue and pig ears to snack on. Tang Yuyu’s late-night snack shop also sourced its ingredients from this very market. Later, as Qin Zixin grew older, she would save up some pocket money and come here herself whenever a craving struck.
Upon arrival, Yang Qichao’s vehicle had barely come to a stop when Qin Zixin eagerly leaped out, bolting directly for the cooked food stall at the market entrance. Her joyful demeanor was akin to a silly dog let off its leash.
Watching her, Yang Qichao couldn’t help but chuckle. He pushed his bike to the nearby parking spot, leisurely locking it. The cooked food stall was tiny, nestled at the corner of the market entrance, right beside the pedestrian barrier. The owner of this stall was surnamed Gao, his full name unknown, and Qin Zixin, like the other local youngsters, typically called him Grandpa Gao. The old man bore a striking resemblance to a praying mantis—tall and skinny, with long, thin arms whose flesh hung loosely.
Qin Zixin had been buying snacks here since she was in elementary school; he hadn’t been quite so thin back then.
Ten years was enough time to change many things, yet not enough to change others. At least, the farmers’ market remained much the same: dilapidated but not chaotic, like a vibrant tangle of weeds.
The cooked food stall had also been there for a long time, always without a sign. Aside from a newly installed energy-saving lamp and the tablet he used for Chinese chess, the only new item in the shop was a yellow health rating chart, prominently displaying a bold ‘C’. This rating chart, whether viewed subjectively or objectively, was the newest fixture in the establishment.
It had only been installed last year, while many items in the shop dated back to the planned economy era. When the health bureau officials came to put up the chart, Old Gao had even cornered one of them to inquire.
“Little Liu from the Liu family, what does this ‘C’ mean? Why isn’t it an ‘A’ or ‘B’ or something?”
The middle-aged official who had come to install the chart felt awkward; Grandpa Gao had watched him grow up. As a child, he had been poor, often joining a group of neighborhood kids to gaze longingly at Grandpa Gao’s stall. Noticing them, Grandpa Gao would offer them some卤制 offal scraps to eat, after which they would scatter in delight.
Even now, with his own son already in junior high, this young official remained, in Grandpa Gao’s eyes, the same little imp who ate without paying. He didn’t dare to be too direct, fearing that if he spoke too harshly, he might find himself attending Old Gao’s funeral the next day. He stammered for a good while before finally managing to blurt out, “Grandpa Gao, ‘C’ simply means the hygiene is up to standard, perfectly adequate. ‘B’ class is for larger establishments, so ‘C’ is already quite good, it just has some big… not big, but some room for improvement.”
He spoke haltingly.
Old Gao, however, only heard “up to standard hygiene,” and his wrinkled old face broke into a beaming smile. Older generations tend to be straightforward; they don’t understand postmodern jargon like “room for improvement.” After the officials left, Old Gao would occasionally wipe the chart with a rag, genuinely treating it like an award. Consequently, the chart, especially the letter ‘C’, looked conspicuously new.
It was one of the few imprints of the 21st century in this old market.
Upon arriving, Qin Zixin first peered through the counter glass for a moment, still catching her breath from her hasty run.
“Old Gao, stop playing! You can’t beat the computer! I want two sections of pig ear, sliced thinly!”
The old man was still fiddling with a tablet, playing Chinese chess—a gift from his grandson. Ever since his chess opponent of nearly thirty years had passed away last year, he had been using it to play. Hearing this disrespectful girl not only call him “Old Gao” but also mock his chess skills, the old man flared up. He was old enough to be her grandfather, perhaps even older, yet she still called him ‘Old Gao’!
“You impudent girl, don’t be so informal! Next time your mother visits, I’m definitely telling on you! Which two pieces do you want?”
Grandpa Gao’s thick Nanling accent rendered his speech somewhat indistinct, but Qin Zixin had grown accustomed to it. With a slender finger, she gestured through the glass for a long moment. Although Old Gao’s eyesight wasn’t failing, he still fumbled for a while before picking the correct pieces. The ears were nine yuan per section. Qin Zixin rummaged through her small wallet, pulling out twenty-three yuan, which she placed on the glass counter. Three coins, neatly aligned, held down two ten-yuan notes.
Seeing Old Gao busy slicing the ears, and knowing that given his age and creaking joints, this step would take at least a few minutes, Qin Zixin chirped loudly with a grin:
“Old Gao, add five yuan worth of seasoned edamame! I’ve put the money here. Remember to douse it with plenty of dipping sauce! And remember to add cilantro, no green onions or chili.”
“Alright!”
Qin Zixin then hurried to the neighboring fruit stall to buy a bunch of grapes. She didn’t splurge on imported ones; they were expensive and tough-skinned, offering poor value except perhaps for their appearance. As the old saying went, they were like a donkey’s droppings—shiny on the outside, but worthless within. Instead, she bought local Hongsong Village grapes. September was prime season for local grapes, and these were large and sweet.
She didn’t know the exact variety of these grapes; the Hongsong Village label seemed to cover all sorts of varieties, but they were all incredibly cheap. A large bunch, over two catties, cost just over five yuan, and the vendor generously rounded down the price. The purplish-black grape flesh looked as plump as jewels. Carrying the bag of grapes, she thought of their sweet-and-sour taste, and her mouth watered uncontrollably.
Qin Zixin then bought two yuan worth of steamed buns to round her total up to thirty yuan. The old-style steamed buns were fifty cents each, so large they couldn’t be held in one hand. Their crust was slightly yellowish, and they had a subtle, lingering aroma of wine. She decided to slice them tonight to eat with the pig ears.
Yang Qichao also bought some cooked food: a portion of Fúqī Fèipiàn and a whole roasted goose, totaling over a hundred yuan. Qin Zixin first went to collect her ears and edamame from Old Gao. Just then, Yang Qichao emerged with two large containers of cooked food.
Qin Zixin grinned, getting into the car and eagerly helping to carry the bags like a sycophant.
Back home, Qin Zixin rushed straight to the sink to check on the crabs, not even bothering to change her clothes.
A large red bucket sat in the sink, emitting the distinct briny scent of hairy crabs. Inside, twelve crabs were nestled, each a six-liang female, with dark green-black shells, still blowing bubbles. All of them were meticulously bound with red hemp rope.
These had been delivered by her maternal uncle, Tang Longlong, that afternoon. He claimed they were genuine Yangcheng Lake hairy crabs, not the fake ‘washed crabs.’
Tang Yuyu had messaged her on WeChat, instructing her to eat only two crabs tonight and not to get greedy. Crabs were considered ‘cold’ food, and eating too many at once could cause stomach aches.
Tang Yuyu still wouldn’t be home tonight.
Even with the Mid-Autumn Festival imminent, Tang Yuyu couldn’t abandon her shop; the late-night snack shop would only close tomorrow.
During the day at school, just hearing the words “hairy crabs” had made Qin Zixin crave them.
As school was about to end, seeing the WeChat message had been a delightful surprise.
If her uncle said they were Yangcheng Lake crabs, then they were definitely Yangcheng Lake crabs. Tang Longlong worked in the Ministry of Agriculture and Rural Affairs, typically handling aquatic product disease prevention. Who would dare to deceive an official in charge of their own industry? Even an immortal, tired of life, wouldn’t choose such a way to court death.
Even ordinary hairy crabs had sufficiently delicious roe, but Yangcheng Lake crabs were renowned; wouldn’t theirs be utterly delightful?
Seeing the twelve crabs in the bucket, Qin Zixin felt her mouth watering at the thought.
It was only the first night of the holiday; with grand meals planned for tomorrow and the day after, she would surely eat until her belly was round this Mid-Autumn Festival.
Qin Zixin, being favored, carried an unshakeable confidence, especially when it came to food. Other girls would never dare to indulge themselves so freely in their eating habits; for them, a BMI exceeding 25 would likely be just the beginning. She first amused herself by poking the bubbling crabs with chopsticks. The bucket was somewhat tall, so she reached in and retrieved one.
She poked its eyes with a chopstick, giggling delightedly as the crab’s eyestalks retracted. Tossing the chopstick into the sink, she took out another crab from the bucket. She weighed one in each hand, hesitating. She had intended to be obedient and eat only two, but holding two, it felt a little too few.
She felt she could easily eat at least six, but Tang Yuyu had already given her instructions: a maximum of two at a time.
Licking her rosy lips, she decided to grab two more crabs, a compromise between her own desire and her mother’s advice.
[Girl, two is enough, just to get a taste. You won’t feel it while eating, but you’ll definitely have a stomach ache in the middle of the night.]
Qin Zixin was displeased by this, her lips pouting.
[Don’t talk nonsense! I’ve never had a stomach ache!]
The System found itself amused and exasperated. What good was it for this stubborn girl to argue with Them, completely disregarding the facts?
[Alright, being stubborn, are we? Earlier this year, in April, you craved scallops and ate over a catty in one sitting. I told you to eat less then, but you didn’t listen, and that night you had such a stomach ache you had to go to the hospital, needing two days of IV drips. During the New Year, you secretly ate the offerings and milk from the altar at Qinde Temple in your hometown. I told you then that the milk was expired, but you didn’t listen, and…]
[Stop it! I’ll eat two, two is fine, can’t I just not take more?]
Qin Zixin was furious and flustered, her jade-like face flushed pink. Though this girl never learned from her mistakes when it came to food, having these incidents brought up still made her embarrassed.
[Let me warn you first: tomorrow and the day after are full of grand meals. You can choose now: either eat four crabs tonight and end up in the hospital with a stomach ache in the middle of the night, losing out on two days of grand meals. Or, you can be obedient and only eat two, and enjoy the planned grand meals tomorrow and the day after. You don’t want to be on an IV drip in the hospital, do you?]
Qin Zixin’s gaze darted away.
The System, after all, had watched her grow up; They knew this girl’s temperament inside and out. Threats concerning food, drink, and fun always proved most effective on her.
Qin Zixin first placed two hairy crabs back into the bucket, then, feeling unsure, put one more back. She decided she would only eat one hairy crab today, especially since there were also cold dishes.
[Hehe, I’ll listen to you!]
The girl’s expressions shifted with the swiftness of a dog’s mood; just moments ago she was arguing, and now she was acting like a sycophant again. Qin Zixin took the steamer to boil water, cheerfully sliced a piece of old ginger, inverted the crab, and placed the ginger slice over its rear shell.
While the crabs steamed, she went to wash the grapes and put them in a large soup bowl.
She decided to overturn her earlier decision to feast all night; she wasn’t ‘mature’ enough then. She now resolved to eat only one section of pig ear, one bunch of grapes, one plate of seasoned edamame, and one hairy crab tonight. She carried the washed grapes and pig ears to her computer desk. The crabs would take a while to steam thoroughly, so she first turned on her computer.
Opening her Grand Master Hunyuan account, Qin Zixin saw Muzigu asking how to dispose of a 150-jin dead pig.