Read Novel Full Chapter 510: A Delivery Order
Chapter 510: A Delivery Order
The kitchen doorway curtain was hooked up over the nail, not let down. He Xiufen was handing bowls out one by one. The rims were hot; she kept a damp rag wrapped around her hand.
The first bowl went to the table by the window. Pang Chunlai's noodles were cooked separately, done soft, with an egg tucked at the bottom of the bowl. He lifted the noodles with his chopsticks and looked, then set the chopsticks across the rim of the bowl and bent to drink the broth first.
Auntie Wang's bowl went by the door. She cupped it with both hands, said it was hot, and first set it on the thin cloth cap spread over her knees. Lao Kan stood beside her, said he was used to standing, shifting his weight from one leg to the other.
The rest of the bowls, Zhi'an carried three at a time, setting them in the middle of the long table wherever someone reached for one. Twenty-some people sat on stools of uneven heights, the few polished bright ones borrowed from the grain and oil shop next door. When anyone's bowl showed bottom, someone nudged it an inch inward for them. Li Huilan kept count for He Xiufen at the counter: two bowls extra spicy, one bowl no scallions, the soft-cooked one counted separately.
Wang Changshun ate his noodles loudly, and when he finished he pushed the bowl forward, saying this year's cornmeal hadn't been cooked yet, asking He Xiufen if she was free that evening. Chai Guizhi picked the noodles from her bowl strand by strand into Xiaoyu's bowl, and only after she finished did she eat her own.
Shen Zhixia's hands were empty. The apron wasn't on her; whenever someone's cup ran low, she carried the thermos over and topped it off halfway. Tang Guo closed the sign-in book at the other end of the counter and pressed the cover smooth with her sleeve, then looked at it again.
Lu Jibai carried a bowl of noodles out of the kitchen and set it in front of her.
"Eat first."
"Wait a bit."
"Noodles go soft and stop being springy when they sit."
She nudged the bowl half an inch aside. Still didn't pick up her chopsticks.
At noon, a vehicle stopped at the mouth of the alley. The brake pads squealed half a note—short, abrupt—the sound of someone who'd driven this road plenty of times bringing the car in. Footsteps came up the steps outside, soles wet with water; the three stone steps they'd hosed down that morning hadn't fully dried.
Deng Wei stood up from the innermost seat, pushed his stool in, and walked to the door. Xiao Duan followed behind him. Lu Jibai stood too, draping the rag over the back of a chair.
Ma Jianjun climbed to the top step. Yellow work uniform, the logo on his left chest, helmet clamped under one arm, both hands holding a white box. The box was bound on all four sides with an elastic cord, and under the cord a printed receipt was pressed, one corner taped to the lid.
Luo Cheng followed half a step behind, standing on the second step, not coming up any farther.
"Shen Lawyer, your order," Ma Jianjun said.
"I didn't place an order."
"I placed it, and I took it."
"Assigning a delivery to yourself?"
"The group chipped in for this. It needed to get here." He lifted the box a little higher. "Too big for the delivery box. Carrying it up bare-handed wouldn't look like a delivery. So I placed an order on my phone and accepted it myself. That way there's a ticket for it."
Luo Cheng added from behind: "This order was on my bike first. He insisted on delivering it himself, so I gave it to him. Get it to the door, the last few steps are his."
"The money?" she asked.
"I paid for it myself. The delivery fee cycles back to my account after the run." Ma Jianjun said. "So this trip earns me nothing."
"Then why run it?"
"A run like this isn't a wasted run."
"What's in the box?"
"You'll see when you open it."
"I thought it would be flowers."
"Flowers don't keep." Ma Jianjun said. "They wilt by the next day. This you can eat."
A voice from inside called: "Come in! What are you doing standing at the door?"
Deng Wei didn't turn his head, just said: "The order hasn't been handed over yet."
Shen Zhixia stepped over the threshold onto the landing. The stone steps were wet; her soles stuck slightly. She took the box with both hands—not heavy, not light. Only once she had it did she feel her palms settle with the weight.
"I didn't undo the cord." Ma Jianjun said. "Didn't want it coming apart on the road."
"Was it stable the whole way?"
"Stable. At the alley entrance I ran the cord from the delivery box around it one more time."
She peeled the receipt off the lid. When the tape pulled away it left a white streak on the box top, still a little tacky to the touch. The receipt paper was thin, its edges curled from rubbing against the box rim, and in the notes field was printed a line:
Shen Lawyer, newly married
Below that, on its own line, a single character for "Ma."
The ring on her left ring finger tapped against the lid with a small click.
Luo Cheng craned his neck for a look. "He dictated, I typed. Took him two tries before I got it right."
"The folks in the group insisted on writing it." Ma Jianjun said. "Some could write it, some couldn't, and in the end it landed on me. The name, I had him sign just a surname."
"Why not the full name?"
"As long as you know who it's from."
Someone inside asked: "What does it say on there?"
She folded the receipt and said, "My name."
At the counter, Tang Guo lifted her hand from her phone and said, "I saw it."
"Don't read it out."
"I won't." Tang Guo said. "I won't say a single word."
She folded the receipt into quarters, took her notebook from her pocket, tucked it behind the last page, and pressed her finger over the cover once.
Luo Cheng, Deng Wei, and Xiao Duan stood by the door. None of them stepped in first.
"Come in and sit," she said.
"We'll stand a while and go." Luo Cheng said. "One more run this afternoon."
"Plenty of noodles in the pot." He Xiufen came out of the kitchen, the rag over her shoulder. "Eat a bite before you go. I won't let the bikes out if you don't."
Luo Cheng looked at her, scraped his shoes twice on the threshold, then came in. Deng Wei and Xiao Duan followed.
She carried the box in, set it in the middle of the long table, worked off the elastic cord, and lifted the lid. Inside, a layer of white cream, circled around the top edge with red berries, arranged not quite evenly—clustered on one side, sparse on the other. No writing on top.
"I didn't have them write anything." Ma Jianjun said from the doorway. "Writing costs extra."
"Should've written a line," He Xiufen said.
"Would've just ended up in our stomachs."
Someone in the room laughed, and the laugh scattered. Feng Xiaotian squeezed up to the table, both hands gripping the edge to peer into the box. He Lan pulled her back a little; she edged half a step forward again. Ge Xiaoyu stood at her grandmother's knee without moving, eyes fixed on the ring of red.
He Xiufen went back to the kitchen for a knife and came out with the vegetable knife. "This is all we've got."
"I'll do it." Lu Jibai took the knife, sized it against the box, nudged the ring of red berries to one side, and cut a modest slice. He carried it to the table by the window.
"Have something sweet."
Pang Chunlai waved a hand. "My teeth can't take it."
"It's soft." He Xiufen said. "The base is beaten egg white—melts as soon as it touches the tongue."
The old man took it. He set the small plate at the corner of the table, pushed his reading glasses up, looked at the white slice, then picked up the spoon and shaved off a corner. He held it in his mouth a while before saying, "Not too sweet."
The second slice went to Auntie Wang. She said she couldn't eat that much. He Xiufen said, "Give half to Xiaoyu."
Lu Jibai set the third slice on the plate in front of Feng Xiaotian. Xiaotian took the plate and looked back at her mother; He Lan nodded, and only then did the girl pick up her spoon.
The fourth slice was set beside her bowl of noodles. Lu Jibai said nothing and went back to cut the next one. She lifted that slice to her mouth and took a bite—sweet, the cream slightly softened, the cake beneath dry and spongy, no flavor too strong.
Lin Qi straightened up from the stool against the wall, eyes half open. "Is there more?" Lu Jibai cut another slice. She took it and ate, then leaned back against the chair and said this was exactly the pick-me-up she needed.
Ma Jianjun still stood by the door. The voices in the room rose layer by layer, but he didn't step in. He pulled the helmet out from under his arm, held it with both hands, turned to the stool beside the door, and set the helmet square on the seat, brim facing inward.
"Not running today?" Deng Wei said.
"Not running."
"I'll take those orders of yours. I can finish before four, and after that I'll pick up the kid."
"I took two." Xiao Duan said. "I'm fast. Won't be late."
"Any late fees are on me." Ma Jianjun said.
"Any late fees are on me." Xiao Duan said. "Today doesn't count against you."
He Xiufen brought out a bowl of noodles and put it into his hands. "Sit on the steps to eat—it'll cool faster. Inside it's cramped."
Ma Jianjun sat on the step just outside the threshold, knees braced, bowl held level. He tapped his chopsticks twice against the rim before eating. The noodles were his usual—soft, no chili. He ate two bites, looked up, and saw Lu Jibai coming from the far end of the table, setting an empty plate down on the long table.
"Lu Lawyer."
"Master Ma."
"Back then, you made three months of my wages in a single day."
"Now a single day of yours earns you two bowls of noodles."
Laughter opened across the room, colliding with the lampshade and scattering half of it. Ma Jianjun laughed too, his shoulders moving with it, and the broth in his bowl sloshed up to the rim. He quickly ducked his head and slurped it back.
Chai Guizhi went to the door and looked down at him on the step. "Slow down. It's hot."
"Not hot." He looked up. "Auntie, sit inside."
"I'll sit by the door." she said. "It's brighter out here."
He Xiufen turned the flame down half a notch. Li Huilan called the count over from the counter: half a pot of noodles left, two bowls of egg custard remaining, the soft-cooked vegetables needed a quick reheat. Zhi'an carried empty bowls to the kitchen three at a time, glancing toward the door on every trip, saying nothing, then coming back for more.
Tang Guo pushed the notebook along the counter. The pen still hung from the iron corner by its cord. She picked up her phone, glanced at Zhixia, and put it down again.
Shen Zhixia stood just inside the door, leaning aside to let the bowl-carriers pass. The helmet on the stool took up its space, brim facing inward, its shell catching the light.
More than three years ago, on a rainy night, another helmet had rested on her lap. At the end of the third-floor emergency corridor, the plastic chairs were cold. A man with gauze wrapped around his head lifted the helmet from his hand and set it on the chair beside her, saying he couldn't ride for the next couple of days. She said if you're not riding, why bring a helmet at all. He said I'll come back for it later.
That night, on the steps below Hengzheng, she'd received two lines of text: Municipal No. 2 Hospital, Emergency Room, third floor. Shen Lawyer, can you come? Followed by a single character signature:
Ma.
Back then she was nobody. No firm, no license, just enough in her bank card for one month's rent.
Now the helmet on the stool was new, the paint on the brim unbroken. The receipt in her hand was tucked behind the last page of her notebook, signed with the same "Ma."
"Zhixia." He Xiufen called from the kitchen. "Your noodles are going to go soft."
"Coming," she said.
She didn't move. She stood just inside the threshold, watching the man on the steps drink down half the broth, then press a hand to the rim of the bowl, testing whether it was still hot.