Ch 110: Reborn to Raise My Husband

At year’s end, taking advantage of the bustle before the New Year, Xiao Yuanbao and Bai Qiaogui finally managed to get everything for their shop in order.

After some discussion, they decided to open it just before the holiday.

On the twenty-fourth day of the twelfth lunar month, amid a string of snowy days, the sky at last cleared for half a day.

Amid the beat of drums and clash of gongs, the red silk was lifted from the signboard, revealing its name—Changchun Ju (“Ever-Spring House”).

From early morning, acrobats performed at the door to draw a crowd.

They had originally thought a few strings of firecrackers and a drumming troupe would be enough.

But at year’s end, when every street had its own spectacle, such things no longer stood out.

So Xiao Yuanbao hired a lion dance team and an acrobat troupe.

“Slow down a bit—wait for me,” he called.

By the time Xiao Yuanbao and Bai Qiaogui arrived, the red silk had already been lifted.

Red scraps of firecracker paper were strewn over the snow at the entrance, looking like a scatter of crimson petals.

They didn’t act the part of shopkeepers greeting guests. Instead, they had hired a manager, a man surnamed Yu, to handle affairs at the front.

They were the household of an official; managing a business quietly behind the scenes was nothing unusual, but showing themselves too openly in the marketplace would invite talk. People might say they had lost propriety, and gossip like that could easily harm the reputation of the official branch of the family.

So, to keep everything proper, they hired a manager and stayed behind the scenes.

From the upstairs private room, they stood by the window watching the festivities below.

The acrobat, with his yellow-tanned face and narrow eyes, leapt up and down across high-stacked benches, making the onlookers gasp in alarm.

Soon a crowd of townsfolk gathered, cheering loudly when the lion dance ended.

Then the acrobat performed again—breathing fire, juggling spears—until the square outside was thick with people.

When the excitement had built to its height, Manager Yu cleared his throat and announced in a ringing voice, “Good people, neighbors, today our humble Changchun Ju opens its doors! In thanks for your support, all dishes will be buy-one-get-one-free for the first three days. Please come in and honor us with your presence!”

Someone called out, “I see the board outside says ‘nourishing and healthful food.’ Manager, what kind of dishes does this Changchun Ju serve, and what’s your specialty?”

Yu smiled. “Ah, that’s a fine question, sir.

“We all eat grain and rice, live through sun and snow, and none of us escape a few aches and ills. If the body isn’t cared for, how can one manage a long and steady life? Changchun Ju specializes in dishes that strengthen and restore.

“For weakness of the spleen, coughs, poor lungs, excess liver fire, stomach pains—every ailment has a corresponding dish to ease it. And for those unsure where their weakness lies, we have an in-house physician. Anyone who dines here may have their pulse taken for free!”

At this, the crowd murmured.

“Well, that’s unusual—a restaurant and a clinic all in one.”

“I just hope it’s not neither one thing nor the other—nothing but a gimmick.”

“Still, buy-one-get-one, might as well go in and see what it’s about.”

“Even if it were buy-one-get-three, I wouldn’t go. I’m not sick—why eat those so-called healing dishes? Waste of silver. Give me roasted mutton from the street any day!”

It was Bai Qiaogui’s first time running a business, unlike Xiao Yuanbao, who had traded before, and she couldn’t sit still.

From upstairs they could hear the chatter outside, but not clearly enough to tell whether the talk was praise or ridicule. Her heart hung uncertain.

From the recipes to negotiating herb prices, choosing the shop, hiring and training staff—they had spent half a year on Changchun Ju. Not just effort, but a great deal of silver too.

If business were poor, all that labor would be wasted.

Thankfully, before long, someone stepped through the doors. Then another, and another.

Bai Qiaogui finally breathed out in relief.

“I was afraid no one would come on opening day. If it’s empty even with all this fanfare, how will we have customers after the festivities are over?”

It was Xiao Yuanbao’s first time managing something of this scale too, and his nerves were no steadier than hers.

“So long as we have guests, that’s enough,” he said. “Let’s go down and see how the staff handle them.”

“Mm.”

They went down together.

By then, four or five tables were already filled in the main hall.

“This place is clean and spacious,” one woman said, rubbing her hands by the brazier. “And it’s warm too.”

A quick-witted attendant came over with tea.

“The private rooms upstairs are warmer still, madam. Would you care to sit there?”

The women took the steaming cups and drank. “Oh! Ginger tea.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the attendant said with a smile. “It’s winter, and we serve ginger tea in season. If you prefer, I can bring ordinary tea instead.”

“No, this is lovely. Warms you right through.”

“Do the upstairs rooms cost extra?” one of them asked.

“Not these three days, ma’am. During our opening, there’s no added charge. If the room’s free and not reserved, you’re welcome to go up.”

The two women exchanged a glance. “Then let’s go have a look.”

Bai Qiaogui noticed that the two women clearly wanted to take advantage of the free offer and whispered to Xiao Yuanbao, “Why did you decide not to charge for the private rooms these three days? Each one has its own brazier, and we’re burning good coal.”

“If people don’t first go in and see for themselves, how will they ever appreciate what’s special inside?” Xiao Yuanbao replied. “Everyone knows the upstairs rooms are quiet and comfortable, but only by actually sitting there can they feel it. Without that experience, they’ll only remember the extra charge.”

Bai Qiaogui understood at once.

Some guests chose to go upstairs, but others—mostly sturdy men unafraid of the cold—sat right in the main hall.

One man reading the menu let his eyes linger on lamb-whip soup, and a sharp-tongued server chimed in, “Good sir, our lamb-whip soup is the finest in the capital! With goji berries added—it’s unmatched for nourishing one’s vitality!”

The table beside him burst out laughing. “Order that dish, man, you look pale as paper—you could use the help!”

The man flushed crimson and snapped at the server, “What nonsense! I don’t eat such things.”

“Get that away—who’d eat your so-called tonic dishes? I’m not sick; what would I need healing food for?”

Grumbling, he left in a huff.

Bai Qiaogui shook her head, half angry, half amused. “That fool of a waiter—what man could stand being introduced to lamb-whip soup like that?”

Xiao Yuanbao said, “The first day of opening always shows you where you’ve gone wrong. I’ll tell the manager to remind them not to shout about those dishes. We worked hard to design that page of tonics, and with introductions like that, who’d dare order them?”

He called the embarrassed server over, spoke to him kindly, and sent him back to work.

From their corner, the two watched waves of customers coming and going. The performances outside never stopped, and new patrons kept walking in.

Xiao Yuanbao’s eyes followed each person entering or leaving. Most were ordinary townsfolk; only a few carriages stood outside.

They stayed at the shop until noon before heading out.

Rather than going straight home, they climbed into their carriage and sent Wen Ge’er and Hongtang to ask departing customers what they thought of the food, pretending to be passersby considering a meal themselves. Translated on Hololo novels.

“It wasn’t bad at all,” one man said. “Everything tasted mild and nourishing. My feet were frozen when I came in, but after a pot of pig-trotter soup, I was warm through—even my soles burned a little. I don’t know what ingredients they put in, but I saw bits of herbs.”

Hongtang asked, “If they added herbs, wasn’t it more like a pot of medicine?”

“Not really,” said the man. “The flavor was good—it didn’t taste like medicine at all. The shop even has doctors inside, taking pulses for diners. A lady physician and a gentleman, both quite kind. I didn’t have the nerve to have my pulse taken, though.”

“That doesn’t sound bad,” Hongtang said.

“Just one thing,” the man added.

“What’s that?”

“The price. Too high. That pig-trotter beauty soup—one lotus bowl of it—cost sixty-six copper coins. It was good, sure, and they use herbs, but other taverns sell pig-trotter soup for barely fifty.”

“And the buy-one-get-one offer?”

“Oh, they do that, but the free portion’s only half-sized. Same as other places, really. Right now it’s fair, since they’ve just opened, but when the promotion ends, the prices’ll be steep.”

Hongtang said, “Different shops, different quality. At a place like Anhualou, that same soup would be over a hundred coins.”

The man laughed. “True enough. I was only complaining.”

Hongtang thanked him and went back to report to Xiao Yuanbao and Bai Qiaogui.

When they heard, both fell silent.

They had already known their prices ran a little high.

For the same ingredients, their dishes cost ten or fifteen coins more than the average tavern’s—not because they were greedy, but because the herbs and produce they used were of better quality. After all the expenses, that pricing barely left a modest profit.

Even so, they had worried before opening that the higher cost might drive people away.

Now that fear seemed to be showing signs of coming true, and both of them felt uneasy.

Xiao Yuanbao said, “Diners always complain about price. When we eat out, we do the same. Let’s run things for a while and see. If it really doesn’t work, we’ll find another way.”

Bai Qiaogui nodded. “It’s all we can do.”

By the time they got home, Qi Beinan had already returned from work.

“How went the opening? All smooth?”

He had just changed out of his official robe and was about to head over when they arrived.

“Everything went as planned,” Xiao Yuanbao said, undoing his cloak. “The performers drew a crowd, and that brought diners in.”

He didn’t mention the problems yet. The shop had only just opened—too soon to judge the business fully.

In two days Qi Beinan would have time off; if the shop still showed trouble then, Xiao Yuanbao would tell him.

Two more days passed like that.

Xiao Yuanbao and Bai Qiaogui still went by the shop every day to have a look, but business remained the same—steady with guests, yet far from prosperous.

When they checked the ledger, they saw that although the opening discounts kept the place lively, the profits were poor.

On the fourth day, the promotions ended, and the true state of business began to show.

They went around midday, when the lunch crowd should have been at its peak. Even from outside, they could see that the door wasn’t nearly as busy as it had been.

Inside, the emptiness was even more obvious.

Only two tables were occupied in the main hall, and only one private room had been booked.

“Running a business takes time,” Xiao Yuanbao said quietly to Bai Qiaogui. “We can’t lose heart so soon.”

In the following days, the New Year arrived.

Between reunion dinners and household visits, both grew too busy to stop by the shop each day.

It wasn’t until the fourth day of the new year that Xiao Yuanbao and Qi Beinan went together to take a look.

The manager reported that business had been lukewarm ever since the fourth day of opening.

Xiao Yuanbao examined the accounts: daily earnings had fallen to less than two strings of coins.

His brows knit tightly. At that rate, they would barely cover expenses.

Back home, he locked himself in the study to go over the numbers.

The monthly rent alone was eighteen strings; wages for the cooks and servers totaled more than thirty. Add in ingredients, herbs, and firewood—the monthly costs were staggering.

With the current income, they were running at a loss.

He thought about raising prices but, after recalculating the costs, realized he couldn’t; any higher and no one would come.

Frustration burned in his chest.

When they’d started the business, he’d been confident, even persuaded Gui-jie to join him.

But now that it was open, nothing matched what he had imagined.

Losing money was part of trade, he knew—but it was different when others’ savings were tied to his own.

The Guijie couple didn’t have much to spare. They’d poured their savings into this venture, trusting him. If it failed, how would she ever fund her medical clinic?

Qi Beinan came in with a bowl of eight-treasure porridge and saw him hunched over the desk, head down, hands tangled in his hair.

“What offense has your hair given you that you torment it so?” Qi Beinan teased.

Xiao Yuanbao lifted his head, looking up pitifully. “You saw the shop today. What should I do?”

Qi Beinan sat beside him. “You barely ate at lunch. Have this porridge first, then we’ll talk.”

Looking at Qi Beinan’s calm face, the straight brows and clear eyes, Xiao Yuanbao’s anxious heart eased a little. He obediently finished the bowl.

When he set the spoon down, Qi Beinan said, “I know how carefully you planned Changchun Ju. Everything was well thought out. Still, business hasn’t gone as expected.”

“I asked the diners,” Xiao Yuanbao said. “They said the flavor was good, even felt the dishes had effect—but they all complained about the price.”

Qi Beinan nodded. “When you started the shop, did you think about what kind of customers you wanted?”

“What do you mean?”

“Take Anhua Lou, for instance. Luxurious and grand—they cater to the wealthy. In business, you can’t please every class of people. You choose your patrons and serve them well; that alone can sustain you.”

Xiao Yuanbao frowned, then realization dawned.

He remembered the story he had told Gui-jie about the rich merchant seeking an elixir of life—how even the richest people longed for longevity. Surely, he had thought, those with money would gladly spend it to preserve their health.

He should have known then that Changchun Ju was meant for the wealthy.

On opening day, he’d noticed the lack of carriages outside, but since crowds of common folk had come for the show and the discounts, he’d ignored the sign.

The result: ordinary townsfolk, not wealthy ones, filled the seats. They liked the food, even praised it, but after two visits, their purses couldn’t bear the expense.

Meanwhile, those who could easily afford the prices never came at all.

“Then why didn’t they?” Xiao Yuanbao asked in frustration. “Other shops—silk houses, pastry stores—open the same way, even less grand than ours, and all the noble families still go. Carriages lined up outside!”

Qi Beinan chuckled. “A health-diet shop isn’t like a silk store or pastry stall. It’s meant for those tending their bodies. People only think of such things after they’ve suffered—after they’ve learned the cost of ill health. The strong and hearty rarely consider ‘maintenance.’”

“That’s just it,” Qi Beinan said. “The very word ‘nourishment’ makes people feel it’s only for the weak or the sick.”

“Those from wealthy families care deeply about appearances. How could they openly walk into a health-food shop to eat ‘tonic dishes’? It’s one thing for one’s own household to know of a frailty, but if outsiders see it, the gossip begins. They’ll say someone is weakly, unwell, perhaps barren—and such talk can even hinder marriage prospects.”

Understanding struck Xiao Yuanbao like a splash of cold clarity.

In truth, a frail body ought to earn sympathy and care, yet how many truly pity another’s weakness?

Especially among the highborn and well-fed, whose comfortable days leave them idle—there’s nothing they enjoy more than watching others stumble.

Qi Beinan went on, “It’s like that time on opening day, when your waiter recommended the lamb-whip soup. The man wanted to try it, but being laughed at made him blush and storm off instead.”

He looked at Xiao Yuanbao. “Think of a way to let these wealthy patrons dine discreetly, without drawing attention. If even the people your shop was meant to serve won’t come, then we can reconsider whether the business should go on.”

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