Wang Quan opened his mouth wide, and the remaining quarter of the bowl of rice that was evenly mixed with bean paste was shoved into his mouth and swallowed in a few mouthfuls.
His suggestion seemed to be just unintentional words, but Lin Jingzhe suddenly became interested. He suddenly realized that his thinking was really too limited, and he had been ignoring a lot of things.
He wants to improve the lives of Zhou's family, but he can only think of lobbying Zhou's mother, who is good at cooking, to open a shop and become a self-employed person. Wang Quan is different. The other party is indeed a smart person who uses his own strength to create the next manufacturing empire in this era.
This is a hands-on meal, where can there be a market for products that are mass-produced on an assembly line
Now that social commerce has only begun to develop, all walks of life, especially those who make food, are still like a newborn baby in a swaddling crib. Most of the ordinary people are frugal and do not have the extra financial resources to add any extravagant condiments in addition to the daily firewood, rice, oil and salt in the family. But in the future, who will not put a few bowls of pickles and sauces in the refrigerator
What Lin Jingzhe particularly experienced was the first time in his last life when he was sent abroad by a company official—it was the first time in his life that he went abroad. After staying in London for six days, he and his colleagues who came out at the same time searched for nearby places with green eyes. In Chinese supermarkets, you can only buy a bottle of domestic pickles or instant noodles.
Humanity's demand for food will eventually become stronger and stronger with the gradually prosperous economic situation, and the land under his feet is full of more than one billion people, which will contain a considerable market. share!
Thinking of this, Lin Jingzhe couldn't help but secretly startled. He took a chopstick and stuffed the beef slices that Wang Quan was very impressed with. When chewing, in addition to the just right spiciness when the sauce was combined with minced garlic and parsley, he could also chew the bean paste marinated by Zhou's mother, which was different from the ordinary soybean paste of later generations. You can feel the texture of soft and pliable grains of soybean paste. The salty and fragrant soybeans have been completely fermented, and they have been thoroughly tasted, and each grain contains a rich and mellow aroma.
He wasn't hungry at first, but with this beef, which was not very salty, he involuntarily served a big mouthful of rice.
Opposite him, Wang Quan had already eaten two bowls, and he had almost hollowed out the half bowl of Douban. In desperation, he had no choice but to switch to pickles. Unexpectedly, he became addicted to eating again. He chewed the dried and chopped radish in Zhou's mother's hand in his mouth. He quickly finished a bowl of battered noodle soup, and then took a sheep tube bone in an enamel basin. He sucked the marrow all the time.
He stretched his eyes straight, but still sincerely praised the bowl of soup noodles: "This noodles is really delicious."
Paste soup noodles is also a unique method of Zhou's mother. This ordinary woman in her life is too ordinary to see any brilliance in her taste buds. She always has her ingenious combination - fat and thin minced meat and onion and garlic. Stir fry, add with The shredded radish as thin as a hair, the fresh mushrooms cut into small pieces or shreds, and the minced bamboo shoots (the seasonings are replaced with water jasmine) are then seasoned into soup and thickened with water starch.
Before serving, sprinkle a handful of diced mustard, a handful of diced green onion, a handful of minced coriander, and a handful of fresh lard residue that has been ground into a fine powder, stir well, and pour it over the soft boiled bone broth. on the noodles at the bottom of the bowl.
Before eating, be sure to add a spoonful of sesame oil chili poured by Zhou's mother herself. The soup is thick and fragrant, thick and palatable, wrapped on each noodle, and the countless seasonings inside are accompanied by the spicy temperament of chili, making ordinary lard oil. Slag has also become the finishing touch. Such a bowl of ordinary but unusual noodles, even Lin Jingzhe couldn't resist, let alone Wang Quan who had tasted it for the first time.
Wang Quan touched his belly, which was held up high, only to feel that the food had been drowning in his throat, but he couldn't help but ponder all kinds of aftertastes.
The opposite side has been silent since he started eating, only moving his chopsticks from time to time. Lin Jingzhe, who seems to be very elegant, suddenly made a sound at this moment—
"Mr. Wang, are you serious?"
Wang Quan was stunned: "What?"
"That's what you just mentioned, the mass production of sauces." Lin Jingzhe asked him, "Mr. Wang has a career in the food industry in Changqing, right? It shouldn't be difficult to produce sauces?"
"Ah?" Wang Quan just mentioned it casually, but he didn't expect Lin Jingzhe to actually listen to it. For a while, he put aside the feeling of being overwhelmed and returned to the rigor of business.
He pondered for a moment, and was a little uncertain: "Mr. Lin, to tell you the truth, my hometown is in Zhongshui Province, where it is popular to eat sauce with rice, and every household will pickle a little bit, and some people walked the streets with their burdens more than ten years ago. Chuanxiang sells their own pickled bean paste."
"However, I've eaten soy sauce for so many years, and no one's sauce can be compared to this one." He tapped the sauce bottle cap on the table with his chopsticks, and said very seriously, "You know me Our hometown is a big province of sauces. The largest soy sauce factory in China is in our county. Even so, no one can pick up this flavor. Are you sure that this kind of sauce can really be mass-produced successfully?"
******
"Ah?" Zhou's mother heard Lin Jingzhe asking him about the sauce recipe, and turned to look at him suspiciously, "I just pickled it casually? Where's the recipe? At most, the beans should be better and clean. If the customers in the store ask me, I will say it directly.”
Zhou's mother never hides her secrets. She used to be like this. Whenever a friend or colleague asks about the delicious food that she has researched, she knows everything. The snack bar and even the kitchen are located outside, and she is never afraid of being taught her craft. The business in the store is booming, and there are many fellow store owners who want to come to steal teachers and learn scriptures. Among so many people who line up outside the store every day, many eyes are fixed on her every move. But for so long, Zhou's mother has been open and honest, but she has never heard of any dishes from any restaurant that have learned her method.
Inquiries, in fact, Zhou's mother is also at a loss, she really did not play any tricks in it.
However, food is like this, maybe it’s just a little difference in the temperature, the ratio of raw materials is a little different, and a spoonful of salt or a glass of wine is added, and the final result is completely different.
Lin Jingzhe talked to her about selling sauces, and she thought it was a joke: "My bean paste and pickles are more or less the same for customers to try in the store. Who is so stupid and would be willing to spend money on this?"
As she said, she picked up the small wontons that had just been put into the boiling water, and put them into the clear soup with the end of fried dough sticks and pickled vegetables. The customer waiting outside the counter looked at the bowl with their heads stretched out, and asked, "More lard!"
Mother Zhou laughed, scooped a spoonful of lard into the small bowl with a spoon, and put it in the bowl.
The snow-white lard melted when heated, and the clear oil flowers floated on the surface of the clear soup. The unique and mouthwatering aroma of lard immediately made the guests at several tables not far away turn their heads. This is boiled by Zhou's own hands, and all she chooses is the lard suet, which is familiar with other people's quality and guaranteed. The finished product is very fragrant and very popular with customers. The weight of a large iron pot every day is definitely not enough to sell. The children of the nearby merchants sometimes hold a bowl and beg for a spoonful when it is time to eat. When they get home, they stir it up with hot rice and a few drops of soy sauce, sprinkle some green onions, pliable rice and melted lard. The soy sauce dyed the color of the index finger, and it has become a delicacy that is not willing to exchange for the delicacies of mountains and seas.
The waiting customer eagerly took the small bowl from her hand, put it on the table, and took another small plate to scoop up the seasoning that Mother Zhou put on the table—
"Boss lady." She opened the lid of the jar and saw that there were only a few drops of thin-bottomed bean paste left in it, and couldn't help but feel very disappointed, "The bean paste is gone again."
Zhou's mother immediately wiped her hands and smiled and apologized to her: "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, this is all hand-pickled, and I didn't make much. I didn't expect it to be so popular. It was eaten in the morning as soon as it was put out."
The customer sighed, and had no choice but to scoop away a spoonful of black, red and crisp chili pepper rings marinated in wine vinegar in an enamel cup, and reluctantly looked at the small jar: "You said that these sauces are marinated in your house. It would be great if the food could be sold in the store, sigh, I have to go abroad to go back to school on Monday, and I won't be able to come back for at least a few months, without the taste of your home, I can't even eat."
When Zhou's mother heard this, she immediately pulled a plastic bag in distress, turned around and filled her with a bag full of sauce bamboo shoots in the pickle jar behind the table, and wanted to take her back to eat. The guest was flattered, and he must not be short of money. After several rejections, he abruptly stuffed twenty dollars into Zhou's mother's apron pocket for this pickle.
Zhou's mother hurriedly called her husband to grab a braised pig's feet from the pot and gave it to others. Lin Jingzhe leaned against the table and watched her make arrangements. Liyun people like spicy food, and they like to throw away a few chili peppers when cooking, but Lin Jingzhe doesn't like the spicy taste. The fresh and tender chili rings are sliced into thin slices, and the long green chili peppers with large and sharp spiciness are not too terrible. Although they have only been marinated for a few hours, the chili meat at the cross-section has been soaked in the sweet and sour sauce. the taste of. Lin Jingzhe's sense of taste was not sensitive, so he could only taste something like cooking wine, balsamic vinegar, raw garlic, ginger and white sugar in it, but that didn't stop him from stuffing another slice into his mouth when he was inhaling hot.
After Zhou's tossing, she returned to the kitchen counter and heard Lin Jingzhe ask her, "How is it? Are there still people who are willing to spend money on pickles?"
She was taking the twenty dollars out of her apron pocket and wanted to put it in the change bucket of the daily cash register, when she heard the words, she was stunned.
She glanced at the twenty-dollar bill in her hand. The two pickled bamboo shoots she picked up for the guests just now were the spring bamboo shoots that were in season a few months ago. Although Yan City does not produce these, the price of the whole car from a nearby city is not expensive. The cost of two bamboo shoots plus marinade is only a few cents in the sky, but some people are willing to pay a high price of 20 yuan for this.
Lin Jingzhe analyzed her from the side: "Aunt Zhou, you see that although your store is not big, you can't stop from morning to night. Although you make a lot of money, you are also very tired? The restaurant industry is exchanging your energy for money. But have you ever thought that once these pickles can be mass-produced, you just need to check at home and you can receive a steady stream of more customers than that.”
He picked up a soy sauce bottle on the table, turned it over and showed Zhou's mother the words "Zhongshui soy sauce" written on the label, and asked, "Aunt Zhou, you use this brand of soy sauce every day, have you ever visited this factory? Annual shipments?"
Mother Zhou took the soy sauce bottle in her hand and shook her head blankly.
"This is the largest soy sauce factory in China." Lin Jingzhe said, "You can estimate its market share just by looking at the families around you. Last year, it was just soy sauce. The sales volume has exceeded 200 million! A catty of soy sauce can be sold for 1 yuan 5, how much does it cost? You can imagine how high the profit is."
Zhou's mother was stunned when she heard it. A number like 200 million was already beyond the conceivable range for her. She, a laborer born in a small town, has always regarded herself as a proletariat, and she has the courage to travel thousands of miles from Liyun to Yanshi to open this restaurant. For her, it is already a great initiative. . She is not greedy, and she is easy to settle for the status quo. Although the life of opening a store is hard, she still feels very satisfied. Opening a factory is undoubtedly too far away for her, and she doesn't even know how to run it and the keys to it.
She pinched the 20 yuan, and for a moment even forgot the long-awaited face of the next guest. Seeing her heartbeat, Lin Jingzhe immediately struck while the iron was hot, beating side by side to encourage: "Actually, starting a factory is not as troublesome as you think. Did you see that fat customer aunt who was eating in the shop with me just now? This person is called Wang Quan, who opened a factory in Changqing. He is very familiar with the process of opening a factory and has a good relationship with me. For pickles, you just need to master the recipe. If you can put it into production, you can have full control over many things. Let others manage it, and you don't need to worry about it yourself."
Zhou's mother's eyes drifted away. What she was most worried about was the issue mentioned by Lin Jingzhe. Otherwise, after seeing the world, how could there be a business without a little ambition
Lin Jingzhe stared at her expression, caught the struggle deep in her eyes, and added at the right time: "Haitang will be a sophomore in the second half of the year, and it will be a few years before graduation, and he doesn't like to touch the fumes in the kitchen, you It is absolutely impossible for her to help you manage this store. But if you can open the factory, it is just fine to let him manage it. If it becomes a big business in the future, it will be Haitang's own business. It's good."
Mentioning her son, Zhou's mother's originally gentle expression immediately sharpened.
******
"Walk slowly, walk slowly, it's dark here, watch the road under your feet carefully, don't fall!" Zhou's mother led the way, groping and pulling a rope by the wall, and the dim light bulb above her head followed Her movements are lit up with the characteristic glow of incandescent lamps. This is a small underground warehouse with low rent. It is not far from the store on Sun Street. She specially rented it to store the ingredients. The floor of the dark warehouse is full of large and small sauce jars, and the seals are tightly covered, as if they have been placed here for a long time, the surface of the seals has been covered with a thin layer of dust. Mother Zhou distinguished for a moment, picked one of the small tanks, blew away the ash floating on the surface, and untied the ropes tied to it layer by layer.
The unique fresh smell of pickled peppers and basil immediately spread around with her movements. Wang Quan was still standing behind Lin Jingzhe, and when he smelled the smell, he immediately squatted beside Zhou's mother. The clean chopsticks that Zhou's mother carried with her was pulled back and forth, and a shriveled eggplant segment was buried in it and handed to Wang Quan.
Wang Quan stuffed it into his mouth, and the moment he chewed it, his taste buds were full of savory and savory flavors. The eggplant's soft and chewy texture was very different from when it was fresh, but it seemed to be even better, which made him immediately raise his brows.
He gave Zhou mother a sincere thumbs up: "Delicious! Aunt Zhou, how did you do it?"
Zhou's mother is shy, although she is usually praised a lot in the store, but she is still a little embarrassed at the moment, she modestly said: "It's nothing unusual, just pick fresh long eggplants, the finer the better, in the sun After ten days of drying, the moisture in the eggplant is almost completely dried, and don't dry it completely. When it is good, take it back, wash it and cut it into sections, use fresh basil, pepper, tender ginger, garlic, and There is a little prickly ash and bay leaf, mixed with other messy things, and marinated for ten days and a half months. The main thing is that the eggplant must be selected well, and it must not be old, and the pepper cannot be used casually. I put millet. And red lanterns, millet is spicy enough, red lanterns are more fragrant, these two together taste the best."
What she said was simple, but Wang Quan was simply dumbfounded. People who know the steps of cooking by heart can't imagine how complex and difficult concepts that take them for granted are to ordinary people. For example, when it comes to adding salt to cooking, some people have a concept of taste in their hearts when they pinch their fingers, but more people are hesitant to add and subtract. Zhou's mother is probably the former. In her mind, there is a special kind of mastery of the rules of order after the fusion of different tastes, which is far beyond the reach of ordinary people. Take her jar of pickled eggplants as an example. She only needs to press her fingers to find out how soft and hard the eggplants are, but if it is Lai Wangquan or Lin Jingzhe, I am afraid she must use scientific comparisons and comparisons. Analysis dares to speak out.
The reason can only be explained by talent.
This is a good thing, at least after repeated research on the rules of Zhou's mother's dishes, they can always formulate the closest rules. Even if the taste cannot be exactly the same, the maximum similarity can still be achieved. However, for such a talented dish, there is no precise ratio leaked, and it is difficult for colleagues to imitate the exact same taste. Wang Quan nodded and pointed to the jars in the warehouse that were slightly farther away from him, and the jars with the sealing cloth were obviously different from most of the pickles: "Are those jars of bean paste?"
"Yes." Zhou's mother nodded, "but the beans are still unripe, and the beans will have to be stuffed for a few more days. If the fermentation is not complete, the fragrance will not be enough, so I can't take it apart for you to see today. But it's quite easy to make. Just add some chili, onion, ginger, and garlic to the soybeans. After the soybeans are cooked, let them dry, get some flour and spread them out to dry. After drying, they are marinated in a jar together with other things. They are kept in the basement for a few days, and then moved to the sun. Dry it hard, and after it's cooked, it's the taste you eat in the store."
As she said, she took out another bottle of marinated fermented bean curd, took out a piece and said, "Do you try this? This is the tofu that my family Zhou Neng (Zhou's father) made by himself, made with sour water, and made it up. When the hair is very long, the taste is very good, and the taste of tofu in the north is completely different, so it is the most suitable to make fermented bean curd."
Different from the hard fermented bean curd that Wang Quan often eats in Zhongshui Province, which are soaked in Wang Wang's oil, the spicy fermented bean curd made by Zhou's mother is vegetarian. The surface of the fermented bean curd is sprinkled with pepper powder, and the thoroughly fermented tofu has been completely integrated with these powders. The small pieces are small and cute, but exudes a strong aroma that is completely different from its small size.
Wang Quan slid down a small piece, and through the light, he could see the white and jade-like texture of the fermented bean curd that had lost the chili powder. He sipped it into his mouth and smashed it twice, and the aroma of eggplant that was still in his mouth was completely covered by this more domineering aroma. The fermented bean curd is a bit salty, but it is not enough to eat it. After being melted by the temperature in the mouth, it ravages the taste buds obediently and savagely.
If there is white porridge at hand at this time, Wang Quan is afraid that he will drink a full rice cooker with this bottle of fermented bean curd.
He nodded, and consciously took the jar that Zhou's mother opened and re-closed from the other's hand, and stuffed it into the pocket of his jacket.
He was determined to go out for a while, and he must go to the hotel to order a large pot of porridge and eat enough of this bottle of baby, but on the surface it was very reliable and stern.
"Mr. Lin." He said seriously to Lin Jingzhe, "I think based on the taste of these things, our plan to open a factory is feasible."
******
Wang Quan intends to cooperate with Lin Jingzhe, not to mention that his electrical appliance factory is now on the right track. In addition to stocking and shipping, he does not need to worry too much. It is time for him to expand some new businesses.
The food industry is undoubtedly a good choice. Now that the trend of the market economy has only begun to rise, people's demand for taste has already been seen. Life has been hard work for decades, for what? Isn't it just for the food, clothing, housing and transportation of yourself and your family? Only now, there are countless people at the door of Mother Zhou's small shop willing to wait in the scorching sun for a bite of delicious food. In a few years, people's life will be better, they will have more money on hand, and more and more people will be willing to spend money on the word "food". Everyone is no longer just looking for enough to eat, but how to eat exquisitely. Eating well is probably the most important thing.
Without Lin Jingzhe, Wang Quan might choose to invest in some high-end foreign restaurants in major cities. He is as optimistic about the catering industry as he was when he entered the manufacturing industry.
And now, Zhou's mother's factory is undoubtedly a better choice for him. After so many years of processing and manufacturing, his understanding of the factory is far better than most people's. Seeking to open up in this industry, he Undoubtedly, it can save myself and my partners a lot of detours.
In this regard, the two sides hit it off. Lin Jingzhe simply handed over all the work of finding the factory site and production line to this insider. Changqing is too far away. For the time being, he prefers to build the factory in Yan City, even if it is more remote. , and also facilitates early planning and management.
However, it is obviously impossible for the approval of pre-production equipment and some projects to get results so quickly. Mother Zhou's brief anxiety was relieved a lot after learning that the factory was not opening so quickly. As usual, she returned to the store to start fire work, greeted customers with a smile, and concealed the news so tightly that there was no clue on the surface.
But the details seem to be different.
Mother Zhou installed the pickles that were originally just for gifts into bottles, lined them up in a row, and placed them in the newly built cabinet behind the counter in the store.
Different categories, different weights, but clearly marked prices.
This new product, which can be directly purchased and taken away without queuing up, was launched, and it was immediately widely praised. It didn't take long for it to become the biggest sign in the store. Many old customers are even entrusted by others to help them buy, and they have to buy a dozen or twenty bottles at a time. Therefore, the vertical cabinet that should have been placed in glass jars is often found empty.
******
After get off work, when Lin Jingzhe returned home, a familiar black car had already been parked in the garage on the lawn, and it was parked in the parking space inside.
When Lin Jingzhe got off the driver's seat, he glanced at it and found that the headlights that had been smashed before the right side of the black car had been repaired, and there was no trace of the rotten appearance. The owner has a similar pretentious temperament.
Lin Jingzhe felt strange in his heart, Xiao Chi was too self-conscious, and ran here after work.
When I opened the door, I could smell the fresh and clean water vapor after cleaning. The glass door in the living room opened, and the wind with the fragrance of plants blew in from the backyard. There was no one in the living room, the TV was on, and a martial arts drama was being played. The sound of swords colliding with special effects flowed from the stereo, and the dim lights in the room filled with a warm smell.
He couldn't help but stop for a few seconds.
Suddenly, he heard footsteps that are characteristic of bare feet touching the wooden floor. Lin Jingzhe turned his head following the sound and met Xiao Chi's gaze. Xiao Chi dressed very simply at home, only wearing a white linen top and a pair of beige trousers, but the effect was very good, showing that he had broad shoulders, wide waist, thin legs, and slender legs.
"Are you back?" Xiao Chi asked him naturally, as if his name was written on the property certificate of the house, he walked to the restaurant with bare feet, and put a simple paper bag in his hand on the On the table, "Have you eaten yet?"
He probably just took a shower, and there are still some water marks on his face that haven't disappeared. He has a paper bag in his hand, and one of them is distractedly pinching a string of beads. After living together for a few days, Lin Jingzhe discovered many quirks in Xiao Chi that he hadn't noticed before.
For example, the other party has a high body temperature, usually does not like to wear shoes at home, and likes to sit on the floor barefoot and cross-legged.
Another example is that the other party seems to have a very pious belief at least on the surface - the day after he moved in, Xiao Chi invited back a majestic Guanyin statue, which was enshrined in a small room on the first floor near the garage, every day. Three sticks of incense are offered, never intermittent.
He was also superstitious. After Lin Jingzhe simply enshrined his grandfather's portrait in the Buddhist hall, he even caught him reciting the Sutra of Merit to the portrait!
Lin Jingzhe stared at Xiao Chi's bare soles and strong calf muscles for a while, and then withdrew his gaze. The brief sense of discomfort when he entered the house was easily concealed by him. "Not yet." He answered Xiao Chi's question nonchalantly, then watched Xiao Chi's movement of opening the paper bag, and asked, "What is that?"
"I don't know, Hu Shaofeng said it was a popular pickle in Yan City recently." Xiao Chi couldn't open the paper bag. Check in hand. The glass bottle is not big, at most 500 grams. The light blue bottle body is covered with ordinary patterns, and a palm-sized black note is pasted on the pattern. Xiao Chi reads the name on it: "Haitang Sauce bamboo shoots? What is this?"
Oh, Lin Jingzhe immediately understood when he heard the name, it was the pickles sold by Mother Zhou and their store.
Although the factory was not ready yet, at the suggestion of Lin Jingzhe, Wang Quan had already applied for a patent for the product name. Lin Jingzhe was a bad name. The two factories under Wang Quan were called Dafafa Manufacturing and Dafacai Manufacturing. They were immediately deprived of their rights. The choice of the brand name finally fell to Zhou's mother, which made Zhou's mother hesitate for a long time.
Zhou's mother's real name is Ding and her name is Lilac, which is also a good name, but it has been registered in advance. After thinking about it, she can only choose to name it after Zhou Haitang.
After the patent name was officially applied for, Lin Jingzhe agreed to Zhou's mother to put signs on the pickles in the store. This can't blame him for being too careful. It's true that he has seen too many disputes between Li Kui and Li Gui in the shopping mall in his previous life. There are many incidents of deliberate impersonation or confusion. Some smart people just don't want to use their hearts and eyes on the right path. .
With a patent name, at least they don't have to worry about having no basis for defending their rights.
However, the scale of pickles has not yet developed to the point where they need to worry about being copied by others. At least they have to wait until the approval of the construction of the factory area is completed and the production line is put into use before they need to worry about this layer.
However, due to taste reasons, although it was only in the early stage, the reputation of Haitang Pickles was quickly knocked out by word of mouth recommendations. Even Xiao Chi was covered here.
Lin Jingzhe didn't mention much about the relationship between this brand and himself. He just stepped forward and answered lightly, "It's just pickles."
Xiao Chi put down the bottle and looked back at him: "Then let's have porridge at night?"
Lin Jingzhe was surprised to find that the topic of his chat with Xiao Chi was becoming more and more domestic, which made him feel a strong eccentricity in his heart, but at the same time he couldn't help but indulge in this kind of inconspicuous family-like softness that was soothing and silent. , he nodded, and then listened to the other person's question: "What kind of porridge to drink? Rice or millet?"
Lin Jingzhe stared at Xiao Chi's fluffy and natural hair after washing, suddenly stepped forward, stretched out his hands to wrap his arms around Xiao Chi's waist, and then leaned his body and head lazily towards each other.
Xiao Chi caught his body subconsciously, patted his back indulgently, touched up and down, sniffed the smell of his hair, his face pressed against the strands of hair, still waiting for the answer: "Huh?"
Lin Jingzhe rested his chin on his shoulder, as if the tired traveler had finally found a place to rest.
But he strangely didn't feel resistance, he just half-squinted his eyes comfortably, trying his best to enjoy this tenderness that he didn't know how long he could keep, and said absently, "...Rice?"