Chapter 4: Tofu with Tomato Sauce and Salted Egg Yolk

The moment Nan Tu obtained the level-three crystal core, she immediately exchanged it for money through the system.

Soon, 475 yuan was transferred to her bank card.

Guests from the reception dimension still brought in the most income. Even if there was only one guest per day, it was enough to keep the Nanlai Restaurant running.

However, judging by the reaction of today’s middle-aged man, it seemed he had stumbled in by accident and remained nervous throughout. It was unlikely he would become a regular customer, Nan Tu thought with slight regret.

——

Sure enough, for two whole days after that, no second guest arrived through the dimensional gate.

Nan Tu’s initial excitement gave way to calm resignation.

Early one morning, she rode the secondhand electric tricycle she had recently bought to the farmers’ market for groceries.

Many restaurants saved labor costs by having vegetable suppliers or individual sellers deliver produce directly. But since Nanlai Restaurant had just opened, it used only a small and inconsistent amount of ingredients every day. Nan Tu found it more flexible to buy vegetables herself; sometimes, whenever she spotted fresh ingredients she liked, she could add more dishes to the day’s menu.

Today’s perch looked fresh, so Nan Tu crouched by the stall to inspect them.

When selecting perch, the fish should be lively and active, but more importantly, their eyes needed to be clear and bright. Cloudy, bulging eyes meant the fish was either dead or on its way out. The scales should shine, indicating the fish still secreted mucus—a sign of vitality.

The fishmonger enthusiastically recommended, “Young lady, buying fish? Look at ours, all jumping and fresh as can be. Whether you steam or braise them, the taste is amazing!”

He subtly pointed to a plump perch, “This one’s pretty good, very fat and delicious!”

Nan Tu glanced briefly at that fish and immediately looked elsewhere. A swollen belly usually meant the fish was dying or had been force-fed to increase weight—buyers who fell for that were fooled. Especially for perch, it was better to buy lean fish. High-quality perch were active, slender, and streamlined, with little fat, making their flavor mild and flesh firm.

Seeing Nan Tu wasn’t falling for the trick, the fishmonger’s expression didn’t change as he continued, “Not interested? Then how about these two? Among the biggest in this batch, plump and nutritious, perfect for a family meal.”

Many vendors thought Nan Tu was too young to select ingredients well and tried various tricks each time she came to buy. The fishmonger’s incessant chatter was annoying, so Nan Tu bluntly said, “Big perch like that are old fish, with coarse flesh and less fresh taste. You’ve been selling fish for years—you can’t not know that, right?”

The fishmonger was a seasoned trickster. Even when his scheme was exposed, his face remained unchanged, as if he hadn’t just tried to deceive her.

Knowing Nan Tu was not easily fooled, he said nothing more and honestly weighed the few fresh perch she chose, each a little over a pound, generously giving her a small discount.

“Come again next time!”

This was the trick in procurement: dealing with a single supplier meant fewer hassles, while going out to shop daily meant dealing with many cunning vendors.

After wandering around the farmers’ market and loading the tricycle bed with plenty of ingredients, Nan Tu was ready to return to the restaurant. Yet she still looked around, searching for something.

Not far off stood a middle-aged vegetable seller wearing a floral blouse and a dark apron, sleeves rolled up to reveal sun-darkened, strong arms. She was calling out to customers, “Young lady, come see my veggies! Picked fresh this morning before the dew dried. Only a few left, I’ll give you a discount.”

“Two cucumbers, sure! These cucumbers are crisp and sweet raw, great in salads or stir-fries!”

After the customer left, Nan Tu approached to greet her.

“Sister Sun, business is good today,” she said.

Sun Ying grinned warmly upon seeing her. “Boss, you’re here. I’ve saved some tomatoes for you.”

She pulled out a basket from behind, lined with straw, filled with plump, bright red tomatoes.

The Sun family had been dealing with the Nan family for over ten years. Old Man Sun grew excellent vegetables, which they sold at the market after their own use. Nan Yuanhai appreciated the freshness and often had them delivered directly to Nanlai Restaurant.

Years had passed, and with Nan Tu reopening Nanlai Restaurant, Sun Ying, Old Man Sun’s daughter, became the main seller.

She remembered Nan Tu and called out when she saw him at the market, insisting on giving her some vegetables.

Nan Tu told her about reopening the restaurant but admitted business was poor, and she wasn’t sure she could support Sun Ying’s vegetable sales since the restaurant’s ingredient needs were minimal.

Recalling the lively days of Nanlai Restaurant, Sun Ying sighed, “Boss, your skills are so good; your business will surely flourish someday!”

That day, Nan Tu left with a bag full of various vegetables Sun Ying insisted on giving her. Sun Ying also said that with vegetables ripening in batches, she came to the market daily and told Nan Tu to come to her if she needed anything.

Later, Nan Tu realized she did have something to ask of her.

The tomatoes available in the city had tough skins and little juice, suitable for long-distance transport but utterly lacking the sweet and sour flavor of real tomatoes. Nan Tu herself frowned at the taste when cooking with such tomatoes.

She recalled how Nan Yuanhai always tried to buy tomatoes grown in the countryside for home use, completely different from those on the market. Their skins were thin to the point of bursting with juice, and just smelling them brought out a strong tomato aroma. Even a simple dish like tomato scrambled eggs could make one eat two bowls of rice easily.

After telling Sun Ying this, she immediately promised to bring Nan Tu a basket of homegrown tomatoes next time.

Even though the journey wasn’t far, Sun Ying handled these tomatoes with great care, placing them on top during loading to avoid being crushed, padding the basket thickly with straw, and only filling it halfway so the tomatoes at the bottom wouldn’t get damaged.

Sun Ying wanted to give them for free, but Nan Tu insisted on paying several times the price of ordinary tomatoes. Damaged or squashed ones were also counted in the weight at Nan Tu’s strong request.

Having caused Sun Ying so much trouble, Nan Tu felt guilty if she didn’t let her earn something.

She mentally noted this favor and headed back to the restaurant with her half-full cart of ingredients.

——

Pan Yueyi stepped out of Jiangyao No. 1 High School’s main gate, and a bus approached from across the street. She quickened her pace and hopped on.

It was Sunday, and students had only half a day of study; in the afternoon, she planned to visit her grandparents.

But before that, she needed to silence her rumbling stomach.

It wasn’t that her grandparents were stingy with meals, but their tastes clashed with hers.

Her grandfather and grandmother took turns cooking. In recent years, her grandfather’s taste had grown heavier, maybe due to aging dulling his palate. Eating his food made Pan Yueyi think of the phrase, “I know the taste of the sea.”

Her grandmother’s taste was normal, but she believed eating salty food was unhealthy and tried to limit salt intake. When she cooked, her dishes were almost tasteless, like they’d been rinsed with water.

Although her grandparents tried to accommodate the younger generation’s tastes when her parents visited, habits developed over years were hard to change.

Pan Yueyi had once tactfully suggested her grandmother balance the salt between their two cooking styles for health’s sake. Her grandmother awkwardly declined, “Then your grandfather wouldn’t taste anything in his meals.”

So Pan Yueyi chose to eat before visiting her grandmother, telling them she had eaten in the school cafeteria.

The real reason she didn’t eat there was that last week she had discovered rich protein in the pure vegetarian meals costing five yuan each.

After riding the bus near her grandmother’s home, Pan Yueyi got off and looked for a restaurant she liked.

On this street, a new restaurant had opened without her noticing. She stepped inside to try its fare.

A pretty young lady brought her the menu, smiling gently and warmly. She even offered Pan Yueyi lemon tea, which lifted the mood of this appearance-conscious girl.

Just as she was feeling pleased, Pan Yueyi noticed the menu prices and stiffened. Over twenty yuan for cold noodles? More than thirty for tofu?

It wasn’t that she couldn’t afford it, but ordering such dishes made her feel like a fool.

Yet, too shy to leave abruptly, she resigned herself to being the day’s “fool.”

“I’ll have the tofu, then—this one,” Pan Yueyi pointed at the menu and read aloud, “Tomato sauce salted egg yolk tofu, plus a bowl of rice.”

“Okay,” the pretty girl said. “Rice refills are free.”

Unlimited rice refills were like a ten-yuan discount coupon for a Lamborghini to Pan Yueyi—something she knew existed but would never use.

After a wait, Pan Yueyi’s dish arrived.

She thought to herself: The place is so empty and the wait so long—at least it’s not pre-made food. But—over thirty yuan for tofu—

Her heart ached, but a fragrant aroma of sweet, sour, and fresh flavors distracted her as she looked at the “fool’s tofu” just served.

In the bright red, slightly thickened sauce lay evenly sized, uniformly thick tofu cubes, each beautifully colored and sprinkled with green scallions. The vivid colors alone whetted her appetite.

Her interest piqued, Pan Yueyi picked up a tofu piece, placed it over the rice; the tomato sauce stained the rice a pale golden-red. She took a bite, tofu and rice together—

Mmm!

Her eyes widened with surprise.

The natural sweet and sour flavor of the tomato was intense, instantly awakening her taste buds. Within the tang, a strong but perfectly complementary savory note came from salted duck egg yolk already blended into the sauce.

The salted egg yolk had been mashed and fried, leaving no grainy texture—only a crispy, sandy smoothness that thickened the sauce, coated the tofu, and released just the right amount of oil, enriching the tofu’s freshness.

After one bite, Pan Yueyi immediately discarded her earlier worries of “thirty yuan” and “slow service.”

Time and money meant nothing compared to delicious food! As long as the dish was tasty, Pan Yueyi could forgive the world.

After quickly eating several pieces, she abandoned the pig-like greed for ginseng fruit and began to savor the dish.

Everyone knows tofu has little flavor on its own, but this tomato salted egg yolk tofu was exceptionally delicious. No wonder it took so long to prepare; without slow simmering, how could the sauce penetrate every pore of the tofu?

Pan Yueyi also noticed the tofu had been pan-fried, its surface golden and crisp while the inside remained tender and free of beaniness. Only by frying first and then simmering could this dish achieve such excellent flavor.

Not only did she eat the tofu, but she also mixed the sauce into her rice—a precious broth made from fresh tomatoes and salted egg yolks, far more valuable than the tofu itself.

Pan Yueyi hadn’t expected the dish to be so good with rice. The rice, soaked in the sauce, was translucent, with a golden-red hue, soft, elastic, and smooth. In no time, she finished a bowl, seeing there were still several tofu pieces and some sauce left.

Since she had already eaten the Lamborghini of tofu dishes, using the ten-yuan discount coupon was only fair.

Thinking this, Pan Yueyi felt justified and got up to get another bowl of rice.