During the lessons, he would first read through the poem and then explain its meaning. This particular poem was quite long, taking a lot longer to finish.

When they reached the line “Jump on the other side of the wall to see the return of the general. If you don’t see the return of the general, you will burst into tears,” a group of elementary school students laid down in front of Wen Yan’s desk, scratching their heads and mimicking crying gestures. Each pose was more enchanting than the last.

Wen Yan couldn’t bear the disturbance but didn’t know how to react.

Jiang Zhou, like a little bully, pretended to be angry and drove everyone away.

Later, Wen Yan read “The Banquet of the General Corner, Talking and Smiling.”

At that time, he was arrogant and confident, always thinking he would not let Wen Yan fall into the situation of “The scholar’s delay can still be said. It’s hard to explain how addicting a wife is.” But he didn’t expect that after so many years apart, he would be the first to be tempted and the first to be addicted to him.

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At the end of the class, Wen Yan quietly sat down next to Jiang Zhou and asked in a low voice, “How was it?”

It was the first time in class that he felt a little uneasy, so he only dared to quietly ask Jiang Zhou for his thoughts.

Jiang Zhou smiled and reassured him, “Okay, I said you can do it. Isn’t this a good job?”

Wen Yan showed a satisfied smile and, in a good mood, started eating snacks. While eating, he asked, “Where is this snack from?”

“Didn’t I set up a small barbecue stall? There are more and more small vendors in that circle, and the things they sell have become more sophisticated. When I passed by this stall, I thought it was good, so I brought some for you to try.”

That circle could be described as a redeveloped commercial street.

Jiang Zhou had accidentally discovered a small stall selling spicy hotpot.

This Malatang was a combination of hot pot and Oden. Unlike the Malatang the time traveler remembered, it resembled skewers.

The small vendor used a big pot to cook the ingredients, full of Oden-style skewers. After customers selected what they wanted to eat, the vendor put the skewers into a big bowl, removed them, and added boiled noodles—both thin and thick, even shaved noodles. For those who couldn’t afford Malatang, they could just order a bowl of smooth noodles and occasionally add an Oden skewer.

Business was doing well.

In addition to Malatang, there were also pancakes, related to Oden, where they fried all the ingredients and rolled them into baked pancakes one by one.

Jiang Zhou couldn’t help but admire their creativity. One Oden could produce so many foods, many of which were close to popular foods in the memories of travelers.

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As time flew by, Jiang Zhou, preparing to open a barbecue restaurant in the summer, stored away the wheat in advance.

People at this time also grew wheat, mostly grinding it into flour for various steamed buns and pasta. Some less affluent individuals used it to cook couscous rice. Upon hearing that Jiang Zhou was offering money, many people flocked to harvest wheat.

What could be happier in the summer than beer and barbecue?

Not much.

Jiang Zhou planned to brew his own beer.

Mixing cracked wheat with some roasted grains, soaking it in hot water for half an hour to absorb the water fully, then filtering out the clear wort. Adding hops and boiling it, throwing in some turnip seeds and waited for a complete boil, adding yeast after cooling, and fermenting at a low temperature for about seven days would result in beer.

Jiang Zhou only vaguely knew the recipe, and when he actually made it, he spent several kilograms of wheat before succeeding.

If the villagers knew about it, they would probably scold him to death.

The beer he brewed himself had a more yellow color and heavier foam than industrial beer. However, the taste was richer and better, incomparable to industrial beer.

Jiang Zhou had never drunk industrial beer but experienced it through Lu Heng’s memories. All he could say was that the taste was really strange.

Jiang Zhou preferred to call what he brewed “wheat wine.”

He stored a large amount of wheat wine in an ice cellar during the winter. Keeping some for himself, he sent the rest to Wen Yuanxing first.

His father-in-law was a man who loved wine and could drink any kind. His favorites included light rice wine and spicy one.

He also shared some with Lu Xiangxi, Lu Dalang, Liu Erlang, and others.

Lu Dalang recognized it as good wine and knew that Jiang Zhou intended to use it in the new restaurant.

Then he said, “Finding a shop these days is challenging. As you said, it needs to be in a good road. The ones available outside are very expensive.”

Jiang Zhou shook his head, “There’s nothing we can do about it. Now, everyone in town knows that I am opening a new store, and the prices are rising up.”

Lu Dalang hesitated, “I have an alternative here; I don’t know if it’s possible.”

There was a family who didn’t want to sell the shop but planned to rent it out for five taels a year. Although the price was a bit higher, the shop’s location was excellent and met Jiang Zhou’s requirements—small but with good foot traffic.

Just right for a barbecue restaurant.

Jiang Zhou made the final decision, “That’s it!”