Zhou Yan and Comrade Zhou both breathed a sigh of relief. Thank goodness it wasn’t about a secret stash of money.

But as the realization dawned on Zhou Yan, he grew a little surprised and glanced over at Comrade Zhou as well.

The restaurant did need someone for the chopping station, but Comrade Zhou was the best Cow Slaughterer in Zhou Village. Zhou Yan couldn’t bring himself to ask him to stoop to such a position.

Since Mrs. Zhao had brought it up, he wanted to hear Comrade Zhou’s thoughts on the matter as well.

Slaughtering cows meant rising before dawn and working past dusk, earning seventy to eighty yuan a month—more than a textile factory worker. It was certainly a good trade.

But it was also genuinely exhausting.

In the past, Mrs. Zhao had helped Comrade Zhou, and they could sell out all the meat by noon.

Now that Zhou Yan had poached Mrs. Zhao to be the floor manager, Comrade Zhou’s efficiency at selling meat had plummeted. He often couldn’t even eat lunch by two in the afternoon.

Mrs. Zhao’s salary plus commission was already higher than Comrade Zhou’s income from his butchering business; he couldn’t get her back.

"Well..." Comrade Zhou was clearly conflicted. He had slaughtered cows for half his life, so he was naturally hesitant about becoming a cutter now.

"Dad, I’ll give you a base salary of thirty-eight yuan, same as a cutter at the textile factory. On top of that, as the head of the braised meat station, I’ll give you a twenty-percent commission on the profits from braised meats. How much you make is up to you—the more you sell, the more you’ll earn." As the owner, Zhou Yan had to step up and make his offer clear. "Besides, if someone asks you to go slaughter a cow, you’re free to go, as long as it doesn’t interfere with selling the braised meat here at the restaurant."

"Did you hear that? A twenty-percent commission!" Mrs. Zhao held up two fingers and lowered her voice. "Yesterday’s sales were over forty yuan. Today, we’ve prepared double the amount of braised meat. The profit margin is fifty percent. You do the math—how much do you think you can make from that commission?"

Having sold meat for years, Comrade Zhou was excellent at mental math. There was no way he couldn’t figure this out.

The commission alone would bring in over a hundred yuan a month, more than he used to make selling beef.

If sales increased, he’d earn even more. Maybe he and his wife could save enough in a single year to rebuild their house.

"Alright. I’ll listen to your mother. From now on, I’ll come to the restaurant and be in charge of slicing the braised meat." Comrade Zhou nodded. He’d done this plenty of times for holidays and festivals, so he was already skilled at it.

Besides, Zhou Yan had said he could still go if someone called him for a slaughter. He could handle five or six cows a month, which would keep his skills sharp. He’d be back at the restaurant by eight or nine in the morning, so it wouldn’t interfere with anything.

Selling beef all by himself wasn’t much fun anyway. He thought it would be great to be able to help Zhou Yan and spend more time with his family.

"That’s great!" Zhou Yan was ecstatic. ’Mission accomplished: key employee recruited!’

Now they would have someone to slice the braised meat to order, guaranteeing the best possible texture!

He had full confidence in Comrade Zhou’s work.

It was hard to find an artisan more methodical and meticulous than him.

A cutter like him was worth his weight in gold!

As for the commission,

Zhou Yan was more than happy to give Mrs. Zhao and Comrade Zhou such a high commission. It was a huge motivator. Just look at how energetically Mrs. Zhao worked—she must call out "dearie" hundreds of times a day.

The young women from the textile factory adored her now. Even if they weren’t coming in to eat, they’d still say hello to Mrs. Zhao as they passed by.

They were more likely to accept the money when it was framed as a salary.

Zhou Yan didn’t like the whole song and dance of giving out large red envelopes during the holidays.

Besides, as long as they did a good job, it was remuneration they had earned.

Skilled labor deserved to be properly respected.

"Come on, Dad. Go take a shower, and I’ll take you to buy a chef’s uniform. We’ll get your hair and beard tidied up, too. From now on, you’re going to be the face of our restaurant," Zhou Yan said.

After Comrade Zhou finished his shower and changed into a set of Zhou Yan’s clothes, Zhou Yan pocketed some cash and took his father out for a makeover.

Two hours later, they returned.

Comrade Zhou’s somewhat messy hair had been cut into a crew cut, and his stubble was neatly trimmed. He wore a new white cotton-linen chef’s shirt and black pants, looking completely transformed.

"Not bad, Old Zhou! You really look the part!" Zhao Tieying circled Zhou Miao, clicking her tongue in admiration. The outfit made him look several years younger.

"Fourth Uncle, you look like a real master chef," Zhao Hong added with a smile.

"That’s good..." Comrade Zhou straightened the hem of his shirt, looking a little bashful.

"Don’t worry, Dad. You’ve definitely got the air of a master chef," Zhou Yan said with a smile. "Dad, you’re used to slicing braised meat for Grandma, so I’ll just explain the requirements instead of giving you a demonstration, alright?"

Zhou Miao nodded. "Got it. I’ll slice it to the same standard as the braised pig ears and head meat you packed for me yesterday."

’See? An excellent cutter only needs to taste something once to replicate it.’

’The boss doesn’t have to worry at all!’

Zhou Yan had to hold back a laugh. ’Mrs. Zhao is just too formidable. This restaurant would fall apart without her!’

Mrs. Zhao had already washed the two boxes of clothes and hung them out to dry. They were all autumn and winter garments that had gotten wet in the rain but weren’t soiled, so they’d be wearable once dry.

Zhou Yan had also bought two quilt inserts from Zhu the Fourth, the local cotton-fluffer, and had gone to the supply and marketing co-op for two sheets and two pillows. He was now untying them from the back of his bicycle.

"New quilts? Why didn’t you just buy the cotton and have it fluffed yourself? These must have been so expensive!" Mrs. Zhao noticed the two quilts and stepped forward to help, her expression pained by the expense.

"We need them for tonight. When would we have time to get them made?" Zhou Yan said with a laugh. "I got the inserts from Zhu the Fourth. The top quilt is eight jin of first-grade cotton at two yuan sixty per jin. The mattress quilt is six jin of fifth-grade cotton at one yuan ninety per jin. He had them pre-made, so I just paid extra for labor. Including the duvet covers and sheets from the co-op, plus the two pillows, it all came to fifty-two yuan and eighty cents."

"Fifty-two yuan!" Mrs. Zhao gasped.

Zhao Hong was also left speechless.

’Those quilts are so expensive!’

’Zhou Yan really isn’t afraid to spend money.’

"A person spends a third of their life in bed, so it’s worth spending a little more on quilts and pillows," Zhou Yan said, smiling. "We can cut corners elsewhere, but we should treat ourselves well when it comes to sleep."

Zhao Tieying thought for a moment and had to admit that Zhou Yan had a point.

’Well, they’re already bought, and it’s not like they can be returned.’ She could only carry them upstairs for now.

The new quilt felt soft in her arms and had a clean, fresh scent. The cotton fabric was soft, too. It was definitely more comfortable than the decade-old quilts they used to have. Those had become hard as a board and were so drafty in the winter that they weren’t warm at all.

"You need to be more frugal. At the rate you’re spending, you could burn through a mountain of gold," Mrs. Zhao said, setting down the quilt to lecture Zhou Yan.

"I know I need to be frugal, but I don’t mind spending money on you all," Zhou Yan said with a grin. "When we make more money in the future, I’ll buy you silk comforters. Those are even softer."

"Who needs a silk comforter from you? Only foreigners can afford things like that!" Mrs. Zhao shot him a look, but the corners of her mouth betrayed a smile.

The afternoon flew by, and the gloom that had hung over the family since their house collapsed seemed to have finally lifted.

Zhao Tieying felt that life was once again full of hope and purpose.

With some time to spare, Mrs. Zhao began Comrade Zhou’s on-the-job training.

"You can’t just stand there with a stern face. Customers are here to eat. If you stand by the door looking too fierce, you’ll scare off all the young ladies, and they won’t dare to come inside."

"That’s right. Now, copy me. You have to smile like this."

"You have to believe in yourself. I know you can smile. I believe in you."

"No! That smile is worse than a grimace! It’s even scarier than before!"

"I’ll show you what Shu Dao Mountain is! You give me that smile one more time..."

...

Zhou Yan and Zhou Momo sat behind the counter, cracking sunflower seeds from a safe distance, afraid of getting caught in the crossfire from the increasingly irritable Mrs. Zhao.

"Brother, why is Mom trying to make Dad laugh?" Zhou Momo asked, plucking a shelled sunflower seed from Zhou Yan’s hand, looking puzzled.

"Because if Dad doesn’t smile, customers might actually be too scared to come in," Zhou Yan said, laughing.

When Comrade Zhou kept a straight face, he really was too intimidating.

After slaughtering cows for over twenty years, he carried a certain menacing air about him. The way he stared at people was downright chilling.

That was why Zhou Yan felt Mrs. Zhao’s on-the-job training was absolutely necessary.

Comrade Zhou looked quite aggrieved by the scolding. His lip trembled, and he said in a low voice, "Tie Ying, please don’t be angry. I’ll try smiling again."

Even though he was the one feeling wronged, he still had to be the one to appease his wife.

He certainly had his low rank in the family hierarchy down pat.

Zhou Yan couldn’t bear to watch any longer. He stepped forward and said, "Mom, you can’t hold Dad to your own standards. When you smile, you’re like a flower; all the young women from the textile factory adore you. Dad isn’t someone who usually smiles. Just getting a small smile out of him is good enough. He looks pleasant enough that way. His fake smile is even more terrifying."

Comrade Zhou shot him a desperate, pleading look. If this training continued, he’d probably be sleeping on the floor tonight.

Mrs. Zhao chuckled at his words. Looking at Zhou Miao, she nodded and said, "Fine. A small smile will be enough."

Comrade Zhou let out a sigh of relief and offered a small smile.

"That’s it! That’s the one! Remember that feeling!" Zhou Yan said at once. "Dad, think of it this way: every customer who walks in is a patron. We can only earn enough money to rebuild our house if they happily spend their money and come back again. So tell me, shouldn’t seeing them make you as happy as seeing a Great Unity banknote?"

Comrade Zhou’s smile became much more genuine. A Great Unity banknote was definitely worth a sincere smile.

As soon as their shift ended, the textile factory workers noticed a small square table set up at the entrance of Zhou Yan Restaurant. On the table sat a large bamboo tray piled high with glistening, reddish-brown braised pig head, pig ears, and pig snout. It was packed to the brim and looked absolutely mouth-watering.

Behind the small table stood a middle-aged man in a white chef’s uniform. He wore a small smile and looked... well, approachable enough?

At the very least, he looked clean and tidy. He bore a slight resemblance to Zhou Yan, which made him easy on the eyes.

Regulars at the restaurant knew he was Zhou Yan’s father, as he sometimes helped serve food inside.

But judging by this setup, ’Is he in charge of slicing the braised meat now?’

’Can he handle it?’

Anyone who had bought the braised pig head and ear slices the day before knew that Zhou Yan sliced the ears paper-thin and the head meat with perfect uniformity, which guaranteed a fantastic texture.

"Sir, I’ll take one pig ear and three liang of the head meat, to go!" a customer called out, rushing to order. There were only twelve pig ears available; once they were gone, they were gone!

"Alright." Zhou Miao picked up a chunk of pig head meat, made a single cut, and placed the slice on the scale. "Exactly three liang," he announced.

"Whoa!"

"That’s dead on!"

"Was that a lucky guess, or is he the real deal?"

The surrounding customers gasped in amazement, their eyes wide with disbelief.

Zhou Miao then picked up the pig ear the customer had selected. He hefted it in his palm for a moment before it even touched the scale and said, "This pig ear... is also exactly three liang."

He finished speaking and lifted the scale’s beam.

It was exactly three liang, not a single qian over or under.

"Whoa! That’s incredible!"

"The man’s hand is a scale!"

"I don’t believe it! How about you try weighing me?"