Chapter Nineteen: Skewers in Fragrant Broth

Sunday dawned bright and clear, with not a cloud in the sky. The early November weather was neither hot nor cold; the sweltering summer had just faded, and winter’s chill had yet to arrive. It was, without question, the rare and perfect time of year to savor autumn.

Yet, in the southern city, people cared little for mountain hikes; what they truly loved was tea and cards. Along the riverside, teahouses lined the banks, their tables and chairs spilling inside and out. People brewed a cup of tea by the water’s edge, basked in the autumn breeze and sun, chatting or playing cards at leisure.

Many winding alleys branched off the riverside, home to countless eateries: some served hotpot, others spicy skewers, barbecue, or traditional fare. Tucked deep in these lanes, the food was flavorful and affordable, a well-kept secret among locals.

Having promised to treat his dorm mates to a meal over the weekend, Zhou Xuan was true to his word. By Sunday morning, not yet eleven, he had gathered a few friends and his deskmate Zhuo Lian, heading toward the river.

Today, Zhou Xuan planned to take his dorm mates to a skewer shop in a little alley near their former high school. The place was renowned for its generous portions and fine ingredients, all at a remarkably low price.

Back in his previous life, during three years of high school and an additional year of cram school, Zhou Xuan and his dorm mates had visited that very skewer shop several times—a memory that lingered vividly.

Just thinking of those delicious skewers made Zhou Xuan’s mouth water involuntarily on their way there.

Since his rebirth, Zhou Xuan had not once gone out to enjoy hotpot or skewers. In his former life, age had dulled his body, and he’d long since lost the taste for such things.

Reflecting on time’s passage, he realized it had been nearly twenty years since he last ate skewers. If not for lack of money, he would have come long ago. Having just won a hundred yuan from Wei Xinyu, he could finally splurge.

His dorm mates were equally delighted. All came from similar backgrounds—junior high students with scant allowances and little spare cash for dining out.

There were eight boys in Zhou Xuan’s dorm. Aside from Zhou Lin, his childhood friend, the rest hailed from other towns or counties. Li Xing and Cheng Zijin were from the county seat, but their families weren’t well off, still living in old apartment blocks. Duan Hong, Ling Yufei, Chen Yang, and Teng Xiaobin came from rural towns, their families mostly farmers, their circumstances much like Zhou Xuan’s.

As for the only girl, Zhuo Lian, she was said to be from the county as well, and her family was apparently well-off. In his previous life, she went on to attend Renmin University, later moved to Shanghai, became a coveted professional, and married a loving husband with both car and house. She was, without exaggeration, the shining success at class reunions.

After a week of focused study, everyone was a bit worn out, so they walked slowly, letting the autumn breeze carry them along in a leisurely stroll.

Zhou Xuan laughed and joked with his friends, blending in as naturally as ever. Gaining the “system” had not made him arrogant or aloof; he treated everyone just as before. His classmates, too, found that despite his recent achievements, Zhou Xuan remained approachable. In fact, they felt even more drawn to him and Zhou Lin, hoping that by joining their group, their own studies might improve.

At every stage in life, people tend to gravitate toward what benefits them.

Soon they arrived at the skewer shop Zhou Xuan had mentioned. It was still early for lunch, so only three tables were occupied. Zhou Xuan gazed at the battered signboard—“Yuan’s Skewers”—and a wave of nostalgia swept over him.

Yes, that was the name. Decades of memories surged forth. It was as if only yesterday he and his closest friends had eaten skewers, sipped beer, and chatted about everything under the sun right here.

They chose an outdoor table and sat down. The owner bustled over to serve tea.

Zhou Xuan ordered a yin-yang hotpot base and told everyone to pick out their favorite skewers, specifically reminding them to get fresh tofu and beef.

“Alright, let’s go! Time to grab the food!” Zhou Lin was the most enthusiastic and unrestrained.

The only girl, Zhuo Lian, patted her stomach and declared to Zhou Xuan, “I want the most expensive items!”

Zhou Xuan readily agreed, “Take whatever you want, as much as you want,” though he thought to himself, how much could a girl really eat?

After Zhuo Lian left, Zhou Xuan whispered to Chen Yang, who stayed behind, “Don’t be fooled by Zhuo Lian’s talk about picking the priciest things. I bet she’ll end up with mostly vegetables.” No matter the era, girls always minded their figures—much bluster, little appetite in the end.

Sure enough, when everyone returned with their selections, Zhuo Lian had only picked a few small carp, the rest all greens: potatoes, bamboo shoots, bean curd skin, cabbage, enoki mushrooms, and more.

Zhou Lin and the others, however, had filled a large plate with fresh beef and chicken, along with an array of fish—yellow catfish, carp, squid—and separate dishes of beef tripe, aorta, and duck intestines. There was no shortage of variety or quantity.

Since there were no classes that afternoon, Zhou Xuan ordered a case of beer—eight people, two bottles each would be just right. He got a soft drink for Zhuo Lian; for her, alcohol was off-limits.

Zhou Xuan uncapped eight bottles of beer, handing one to each person.

Then he said, “Fill your glasses, everyone. This is our dorm’s first meal out, and our first time drinking together. Fate brought us together—let’s toast to that.”

He filled his own glass to the brim, then called to Zhuo Lian, “Zhuo Lian, join us too.”

“Clink! Clink! Clink!”

“Cheers!”

Everyone downed their drinks in one go. By then, the hotpot had come to a boil, the aroma of spicy broth filling the air, red chilies tumbling in the bubbling soup, mouthwateringly inviting.

“Come on, let’s get the food in! Zhou Lin, put in the carp, chicken wings, and drumsticks first, then the fresh beef.” Zhou Xuan dropped his own quail eggs and fish balls into the pot, making sure to add a portion of everything to the clear broth as well—for Zhuo Lian, and so they could all alternate between spicy and mild flavors.

Soon the soup was bubbling, and Zhou Xuan urged everyone to dig in.

He picked up a skewer of fresh beef—tender, glistening, and aromatic—and could barely keep from drooling. He quickly slid the beef from the skewer into his bowl, dipping it into the shop’s signature sauce, a unique blend that was both numbing and fiery, absolutely delicious.

Zhou Xuan rolled the beef in the sauce, then popped it into his mouth in one bite.

Heaven—it had been so long since he’d tasted skewers this good. This was the skewer of 1996, not the one from 2015, when widespread food safety scandals had made eating out a nerve-wracking affair.

“Eat up, everyone! Don’t be shy—help yourselves to whatever you want!” Zhou Xuan encouraged them, turning to Zhuo Lian as well. “Zhuo Lian, don’t hold back. Eat as much as you like.”

Zhuo Lian, her mouth full, nodded enthusiastically.