readbooksol Chapter 57 Old Friends
Chapter 57 Old Friends
At the entrance of the old street alley, sunlight is dappled through layers of leaves, casting mottled patterns on the bluestone slabs.
Ma Guoliang stood under the shiny black signboard of "Human Fireworks," his steps hesitant.
He subconsciously touched the hardware store key in his pocket that he had used for more than ten years.
The metallic texture felt somewhat cold, but it cleared his previously dazed mind.
He is fifty-three years old this year, and most of his hair has turned gray. He runs a fairly large hardware store in the old street.
When neighbors see him, they all call him "Boss Ma," praising his ability to build his business from scratch.
But only Ma Guoliang himself knows where he first found support for his spine, which had been bent by the burdens of life yet managed to straighten itself.
Thirty years ago, he was a laborer working at the docks and freight yards.
Back then, he always reeked of sweat and engine oil, and every day before dawn he would carry those incredibly heavy woven bags.
The pressures of life were like a millstone, grinding away his spirit and shattering his hopes.
At that time, he felt like a patch of moss growing in the cracks of an old street wall.
Humble and damp, it could be crushed to pieces at any moment by the footsteps of passersby.
It was during those dark days that he met Grandpa Chen and experienced the warmth of human connection.
Back then, the old shop wasn't as bright as it is now; the paint on the walls was peeling, and the fans inside made a creaking noise when they turned on.
But as soon as he stepped across that threshold, the old man would always wave his large ladle and shout without turning his head:
"Little Ma's here? Have a seat. Plenty of rice, and a poached egg to help you relax!"
Ma Guoliang can guarantee that it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard in his life.
That bowl of steaming hot food not only filled his stomach, but also seemed to pour a warm spring into his parched heart.
Back then, he always felt that no matter how bitter life was, if you chewed it up and swallowed it, you could still taste some sweetness.
Later, the old man passed away, and the old shop closed down.
Ma Guoliang also went from being a laborer to a boss.
He has a car, a house, and a happy family, but he always feels that something is missing in his heart.
It's like a bowl of rice without a poached egg; I can never recapture that original taste.
Yesterday, while he was changing the faucet for Grandma Wang next door, he overheard the neighbors talking about it.
"The warmth of everyday life has returned!"
"Those bunny-shaped steamed buns are amazing! One bite is like being in heaven!"
Old Ma's hand trembled, and the wrench almost hit the instep of his foot.
He couldn't care less about the little rabbit buns; his mind was filled with the wooden door that had been sealed for so long, and the old man who always smiled at him amidst the everyday life.
All of this made his nose sting, and he almost burst into tears on the spot.
After a while, Lao Ma calmed down and felt a bit confused.
"Who owns this place?" Old Ma wondered to himself.
"Didn't the Chen couple leave the old street a long time ago?"
Shouldn't he be traveling all over the world?
Did they hire someone from outside the company?
With these mixed feelings,
After finishing his morning's chores, Lao Ma rushed over without even changing out of his work clothes.
Standing at the door, Old Ma did not step inside immediately.
He looked at the small shop in front of him, a place that felt both familiar and unfamiliar.
The storefront is still in the same location, but the windows have been replaced with bright, large floor-to-ceiling windows, and the originally mottled walls inside are now covered with all sorts of strange yet inexplicably cute rabbits.
"What...what's going on here?"
Old Ma frowned.
In the eyes of an old-fashioned person like him, cooking is just cooking. Making so many fancy rabbits makes him feel that the restaurant is not so "pure".
He even felt an urge to "test" the new boss.
"If all that's left is these gimmicks, which will ruin the old man's reputation, I'll definitely have to confront this new boss."
With these thoughts in mind, Old Ma had already placed his hand on the door frame.
However, just as he was about to step inside, his movement came to an abrupt halt.
In my field of vision, a small pink figure appeared, swaying unsteadily.
That's Mengmeng.
Old Ma stared at the little girl carrying the tray, walking cautiously yet with unusual determination, and felt as if he had been struck hard by a blunt object.
In that instant, time seemed to undergo an extremely violent overlap and distortion before Old Ma's eyes.
He recalled that more than 20 years ago, in this very house, the old man was so busy in the kitchen that his feet barely touched the ground.
A little boy, not even ten years old, was also pursing his lips tightly.
Carrying a bowl overflowing with white rice, she moved step by step to his table.
The boy looked just like that—he was clearly nervous, his hands were shaking, but his eyes held a stubborn determination to help his family.
"That's... that kid from the Chen family, isn't it?"
Old Ma searched his memory.
Back then, Chen Feng was still young, and the old man would always joke that if this child could take over the family business in the future, that would be the true meaning of "human life".
Looking at Mengmeng in front of me, and seeing how she was swaying slightly due to exhaustion, yet still holding the tray tightly in her arms.
Old Ma suddenly felt that this scene was more moving than any grand spectacle he had ever witnessed.
He felt as if he had returned to the everyday life he had experienced back then.
His hands, roughened like old tree bark from years of holding wrenches, unconsciously gripped the door frame tightly.
Old Ma didn't go in.
He stood in the shadows, like an observer afraid of disturbing a beautiful dream.
He watched as Mengmeng safely delivered the food to the family of three, and saw her wiping her sweat with a proud smile. Old Ma breathed a long sigh of relief.
That initial desire to "test" him inexplicably dissipated by this moment.
"That's the right feeling..."
Old Ma muttered to himself.
Although he hadn't eaten a single bite of food or spoken a single word to the new boss, he saw something extremely familiar in this little girl.
That was the root that allowed the old man to establish himself in the old street—a reverence for life, a steadfast commitment to this "human touch," and a subtle, warm inheritance belonging to his family.
"This little guy looks just like that kid from back then." Old Ma rubbed his slightly sore eyes and chuckled self-deprecatingly.
Only then did he notice the extremely overpowering fragrance wafting in the air.
It's a wok hei (wok aroma) that's perfectly blended with sour, spicy, sweet, and salty flavors, and has a certain allure.
"Fish-flavored shredded pork?" Old Ma sniffed, his eyes suddenly lighting up.
As a long-time customer, he knew all too well the old man's special skills.
The old man often said that shredded pork with garlic sauce is a chef's calling card; if you can't cook this dish well, you can forget about gaining a foothold in the old street.
Although the flavor is somewhat different from the old man's cooking in my memory, the essence of old ginger and pickled peppers is exactly the same.
At that very opportune moment, his stomach rumbled loudly.
"Gurgle—"
Old Ma's face flushed slightly. He glanced at the bustling scene in the store, then at the little rabbit behind the cashier.
He originally intended to stride in, slam his hand on the table, and shout, "Boss, give me the taste of yesteryear!"
But at this moment, he felt that it was nice to just stand at the door and take a look.
The regret left behind after the "human touch" closed down, a regret that had been hidden in my heart for more than a decade, seemed to be quietly smoothed out by this pink figure and this familiar wok aroma on this bright sunny morning.
"It's changed, yet it seems like nothing has changed."
Old Ma withdrew one of his feet, leaned against the stone pillar outside the door, and once again took out the hardware store key.
This time, he felt not anxiety and nostalgia, but a sense of peace after everything had settled down.
He decided to wait a little longer.
Once the busiest group of diners has dispersed, and the little rabbit can finally sit down and rest its feet.
He went back in, ordered a plate of shredded pork with garlic sauce, and ate it quietly for a while.
Old Ma looked down at his hands, which were once calloused and were still rough despite his current wealth, and a smile of great satisfaction appeared on his lips.
The morning breeze blowing through the old street carried away the last trace of the bitterness of the coolie era.
Boss Ma stood outside the threshold, quietly watching over this flame of hope that had been rekindled after thirty years.
At this moment, Chen Feng was focused on the final tossing of the wok, unaware that an old friend from the old street was standing in the sunlight outside the door, watching everything with an almost protective posture.