10 Roujiamo (Chinese-style Meat Sandwich)

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Wen Zhongxia reviewed the sales over the past few days and noticed that the consumption of pork tenderloin in the side dishes was particularly rapid—after all, who doesn’t love meat? However, the tenderloin slices were thin, and the students complained that they weren’t filling enough. So she considered adding another side dish—braised pork. Later, she thought it might be better to introduce a new item altogether: roujiamo, a meat-filled flatbread sandwich. It was packed full of meat, and she had never seen anyone dislike it.

She discussed it with her sister-in-law, and Xu Xiu naturally agreed: “Offering more variety gives students more options and helps prevent them from getting tired of the food, though it will make your work even harder.”

Wen Zhongxia only regretted her lack of skill; despite learning, her cooking always seemed a bit inferior compared to her younger sister-in-law’s craftsmanship.

“I’m not afraid of hard work, as long as I can earn money,” Wen Zhongxia said, her apricot-shaped eyes curving with a smile as she looked at the long string of copper coins before her. “Besides, as long as the bread and braised pork are prepared well, even if I’m too busy to serve, my sister-in-law can handle it. It’s very simple.”

Xu Xiu felt relieved to hear she could help.

Another day dawned earlier than before. Wen Zhongxia and two others rode to the Imperial Academy’s gate in Uncle Li’s donkey cart. As usual, he helped carry their goods before taking his leave.

“Uncle Li, wait!” A clear voice called out, making him pull the reins and turn around.

“Lady Wen, did you forget something?”

Just as he stopped, a warm package wrapped in oiled paper was pressed into his arms.

“Uncle Li, this is our new food—roujiamo. Try it,” Wen Zhongxia said with a slight smile. “I know you’ve eaten breakfast already, so you can save it for lunch, but it tastes better warm.”

Before he could refuse, she waved and ran back to the stall.

Uncle Li always helped with loading and unloading without complaint or asking for extra pay, even when they added new items. Wen Zhongxia felt grateful and could only offer this small gift of food in thanks.

Uncle Li rubbed the oiled paper package, the deep wrinkles around his eyes softening. The big black donkey clattered steadily forward, and the rich aroma of meat teased his nose. After a moment’s hesitation, he unwrapped the package.

Inside was a large, glossy heap of reddish-brown minced meat, the white flatbread swollen from being stuffed, juices seeping onto the paper.

He quickly set the roujiamo upright and licked the dripping juices—waste nothing.

Delicious!

He stared at it, saliva barely restrained, and took a tentative bite from the side.

The bread was especially fluffy and soft, with a crispy outer layer. The meat was a perfect blend of fat and lean, tender and fragrant, bursting with juicy broth that was never greasy.

At last, he understood why Lady Wen’s food stall attracted so many customers.

After eating only half, Uncle Li felt invigorated and sure he could make more hauls today. He carefully wrapped the remainder to bring home for his family to try.

...

“Stop dawdling!” Qin Qian urged, tapping his classmate’s back with his brush.

Zeng Nian calmly put away his writing tools. “Brother Qin, we have plenty of time at noon. No need to rush.”

“I’m worried about getting there late and having to queue. I missed eating the hand-grabbed pancake this morning, and it’s made me irritable all day.”

The two friends walked out together and happened to see the dormitory chief, Lü Tianchuan, up ahead.

“Chief Lü,” they hurried forward.

Lü Tianchuan turned politely. “Brother Zeng, Brother Qin, are you heading to the dining hall?”

Qin Qian grinned. “We’re going outside to buy Lady Wen’s hand-grabbed pancakes.”

“The chief must have food sent from home again. You’re lucky, unlike us wanderers,” Zeng Nian sighed.

Lü Tianchuan smiled shyly. “It’s nothing fancy—just home-cooked dishes.”

“Don’t you get tired of eating the same thing every day?” Qin Qian grabbed his arm. “Come with us for pancakes. I guarantee you’ll want more once you try them.”

Qin Qian was eager to spread the word about the deliciousness of Lady Wen’s hand-grabbed pancakes, so much so that one might think the stall belonged to his own family.

Lü Tianchuan looked hesitant. “My servant should have already delivered my food box.”

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“Save it for afternoon tea.”

Who uses a meal as afternoon tea?

“Exactly! Sitting alone eating the same food every day must be dull. Sometimes you have to change things up. Why not today?”

Qin Qian and Zeng Nian each hooked an arm around Lü Tianchuan’s. “Come on, join us.”

Overwhelmed by their enthusiasm, Lü Tianchuan couldn’t refuse.

At the stall, they saw a bustling crowd. Qin Qian grumbled, “I told you we should have come early.”

“Roujiamo is ready, sir. Please take one,” Lady Wen’s familiar voice called out.

Qin Qian’s eyes widened.

Roujiamo?

What’s roujiamo?

A student walked past holding a plump white flatbread. Qin Qian stomped his foot regretfully—he shouldn’t have lazed around sleeping this morning and missed the new item.

His expression was as if he’d lost a fortune; Lü Tianchuan tiptoed forward to peek inside. Was it really that good?

He lived at home, his meals arranged by his grandmother and mother, and never gave roadside food stalls a thought. Were it not for Qin Qian and Zeng Nian’s insistence, he wouldn’t have come.

When it was finally their turn, Qin Qian didn’t even ask the price and blurted out, “Lady Wen, I’ll take two roujiamos.”

Zeng Nian shot him a look. “Already fickle?”

Wasn’t he just praising the pancakes’ deliciousness moments ago?

“I’m supporting Lady Wen’s new product. Pancakes can wait until tomorrow,” Qin Qian said, his appetite whetted by the subtle aroma.

Zeng Nian added, “I’ll have one roujiamo and one pancake. Add tofu skin as a side, no spice.”

They both looked expectantly at Chief Lü.

“I wonder if they’ll think I’m eating too little. But I still have a big food box with me,” Lü Tianchuan murmured.

Wen Zhongxia smiled at him. “This is your first time here, right? Let me introduce you: roujiamo is a new item we launched today, ten wen each.”

“It’s filled with braised pork, stewed with over ten spices for more than two hours. The pancakes have several side dishes,” she pointed to several ceramic bowls. “You can choose whatever you like.”

Lü Tianchuan hadn’t wanted to reject his friends’ kindness and was about to buy just one to try, but Lady Wen’s warm smile was like a spring breeze, making his ears tingle.

“Zeng and I will have the same,” he said.

“Alright. Do you prefer the braised pork a bit fattier or leaner?” Wen Zhongxia asked, gesturing to a large brown earthenware pot filled with reddish-brown pork soaking in rich broth.

“I want fattier. Fat is tastier,” Qin Qian answered eagerly.

Zeng Nian agreed, and Lü Tianchuan followed suit.

Wen Zhongxia pursed her lips with a smile, recalling Old Zhang’s “Me too.”

She scooped a large chunk of mixed-fat braised pork with a skimmer and chopped it roughly with a knife.

To the left, a small bamboo basket draped with white cloth revealed four freshly baked white ji flatbreads.

The round flatbreads were slightly larger than a man’s palm, with two or three golden rings on the surface. She gently sliced one, revealing it was hollow inside.

She stuffed the braised pork with its broth into the bread until there was no more room.

Wrapping it in oiled paper, Wen Zhongxia added a ladle of brown broth on top.

Qin Qian, unable to wait, bit into his immediately.

Juicy!

Zeng Nian licked his lips and reminded him, “Be careful not to stain your clothes. The doctor will scold you for poor manners.”

Qin Qian stretched his arm out a little. The bread looked soft, but its outer layer was crispy, while the inside soaked in broth, making it moist.

The braised pork was thoroughly stewed; the fat wasn’t greasy, the lean meat tender. One bite was fragrant and satisfying.

Compared to the thin tenderloin slices in the pancakes, biting into the roujiamo’s generous meat was pure delight.

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Zeng Nian, who was usually mindful of etiquette, understood after his first bite that losing composure over such delicious food was forgivable.

Compared to roujiamo, the dining hall’s food seemed unfit for human consumption.

The two classmates had eaten most of theirs when Lü Tianchuan’s portion arrived. He had planned to take it home, as eating it on the street seemed improper.

But the aroma was irresistible. He turned his back to the street and bit into it, stunned.

Though he had meat at every meal at home, he usually grew tired halfway through. But this large serving of minced meat, a blend of fat and lean, was not greasy at all.

He detected the use of some medicinal herbs in the braised pork, free of bitterness but full of aroma, giving it a richer taste that grew more delicious with each bite.

“Chief Lü, you made the right choice,” Qin Qian and Zeng Nian said knowingly.

Lü Tianchuan nodded repeatedly while chewing.

Xu Xiu was collecting payment nearby and smiled upon hearing their praise. “If you like it, please help spread the word about our stall.”

“Rest assured, Lady Xu. I’ll bring more customers next time,” Qin Qian patted his chest.

Zeng Nian was embarrassed; Qin’s eagerness made him look like a paid promoter.

After finishing one serving, the three ate to fill their stomachs, saving the other to savor later.

But as they walked along the courtyard’s cobblestone path, Qin Qian couldn’t resist unwrapping the oiled paper and taking another bite.

“If only I could eat Lady Wen’s roujiamo every day, I’d gladly endure Dr. Hang’s punishments.”

Lü Tianchuan replied, “Dr. Hang is highly knowledgeable and accomplished, if somewhat strict. I respect him a lot.”

“You’re the dorm chief chosen by the doctors, so of course you’d say that,” Qin Qian pouted. “Dr. Hang is truly peculiar.”

“How so?”

“One thing: he eats in the dining hall every single day without fail. It’s so awful, who would go every day? That’s strange enough.”

Qin Qian rambled on, “He’s the son of the prefect. Doesn’t his family send him meals? Strange, strange.”

“Cough, cough!” Zeng Nian suddenly covered his mouth and coughed hard twice.

Qin Qian glanced at him. “Did the chili pepper get you? But you didn’t add any spice, so no harm done. No one’s punishing you now.”

Zeng Nian coughed even more violently, eyes darting, eyelids twitching. Lü Tianchuan’s expression also changed.

Qin Qian followed their gazes and slowly turned his head. There stood Hang Yao, hands behind his back, just a few steps away.

Hang Yao frowned slightly; his cold demeanor made Qin Qian shiver.

“Dr. Hang…” he stammered.

Hang Yao stepped forward calmly. “Qin Qian, have you finished the policy essay I assigned yesterday?”

“Didn’t you say it’s due in five days?”

“I want to see your article on my desk by tomorrow morning, no less than a thousand characters.” With that, Hang Yao turned and walked away.

Qin Qian was stunned.

Zeng Nian patted his shoulder. “Take care, Brother Qin.”

Lü Tianchuan raised his food box. “Brother Qin, want this for a late-night snack?”

Qin Qian felt like crying. Why was he always the one suffering?

Hang Yao disliked noisy places and usually ate when the dining hall was almost empty.

Was the dining hall’s food really that bad?

He didn’t mind; eating was just to fill his stomach. That’s why he refused meals from home — too much trouble.

But this time, before even reaching the dining hall’s gate, the meat-filled white flatbread in Qin Qian’s hand kept flashing before his eyes.

He pivoted on his toes and headed in a different direction.