Chapter 138: Mag, Did You Put You-know-what Drugs Into Your Roujiamo?

Quick as that, the thought overwhelmed her. She remembered its delicious taste, her mouth watering straight away. She had just eaten a bowl of noodles with vegetables!

Sally gave a shake of her head as if trying to shake the thought out. No! It’s too expensive. I need money to escape.

Yet the thought remained, and grew stronger in her mind. The savory ham, soft eggs, and delicious rice, in which she had tasted the Spring of Life. For the first time, she wanted to go home.

She hated her father and those elders who made her marry, but her mother was nice to her. She found herself missing the afternoons when she snuggled in her arms.

Sally was a noble lady, but now she had to fold quilts, and she only earned a dozen copper coins tidying up many rooms here. She had never thought it would be this hard to earn a single gold coin.

Sally fell onto the bed, facing the ceiling. All she could think of was the rainbow fried rice.

“Maybe they have new dishes now. That little girl was so cute…” Sally murmured.

…

“Sorry. We’ve sold out of roujiamo for breakfast,” Mag said with a smile to the customers waiting outside. “Besides, our opening hours are over. Please come back later.”

“I just need a plate of Yangzhou fried rice, Mag,” a tall, thin man said, smiling. “I overslept. Please… I’ve grown so accustomed to your food.”

“It took me half an hour to get here on a carriage,” a fat man said unhappily. “You won’t let me go back on empty belly, right? Give us some fried rice at least.”

“He’s right…”

Other voices echoed his opinion. They thought Mag might compromise, even though they arrived too late.

Mag shook his head without hesitation. “Sorry. We strictly follow the opening hours here. There’s nothing I can do.” He turned over the sign, and shrugged. “If I make you fried rice right now, I won’t have time to prepare the ingredients for lunch. It’s not fair for the customers who’ll come at noon. So, please come early next time.”

“Well, I guess I have to come back later,” the tall, thin man said disappointedly. He turned around and left.

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The fat man said, “Mag, you’re so”—he suddenly espied Amy walking towards Mag with the kitten—”reasonable.” He cracked a dry smile, and made for the carriage.

Other customers saw the look on Mag’s face, and could do nothing but leave.

Mag is really something else, Yabemiya thought. She stood by the door, gazing at his profile, which was handsome and amiable in the sunlight. His mustache made him look mature. I’m lucky to have such a good boss.

Mag stretched. He had sold over 200 roujiamos in the morning, and got 95 new customers. Business was much better than before. He was confident that more customers would come for lunch and supper, and that his restaurant would be full every day.

“Father, can you make the Mushroom Fairy sing a new song today?” Amy asked with expectation, holding Ugly Duckling in her arms.

An urgent yet faint shout of “Wait, Mag!” turned her father’s head before he could reply.

A thin man was running towards him. His geta clattered on the ground, his loose clothes flying behind him. It was Vicennio.

Mag gave Vicennio a strange look when the latter stopped before him, stooped with hands on his knees. “Sorry, sir, but we’re closed,” Mag said, shaking his head.

He looked even paler than an hour ago. His legs were feeble. He was in no better condition than Mag right now.

However, although Mag was thin and didn’t have much strength, he looked well, his eyes lively.

Vicennio looked as if he would collapse at any moment. The gods alone knew what had happened to him in the last hour.

He raised his voice. “Closed?” He seemed a little disappointed, but his face lit up quickly again. “Oh, I like it closed,” he said, nodding.

Mag was confused. Has he gone mad?

“Please help… help me up.” Vicennio reached up a hand, and as quick as that, his legs gave out, and he knelt before Mag.

For an instant, Mag froze. He took a look at the man, and pulled back his hand. “Sir, you can come back for lunch. You don’t have to kneel before me.”

Vicennio looked down at his knees, and realized what he had done. However, he was too weak to rise to his feet. He felt better this way. He gave Mag a resentful look. “Mag, did you put you-know-what drugs into your roujiamo? My tigress of a wife woke up lazy and tired this morning, but after your roujiamo, she suddenly felt so energetic, and, well, you know the rest.”