In the presence of the stomach, words amount to nothing.

“Fang Chang’an!”

As Fang Chang’an was reading, Fang Ying appeared outside the window of Class Four, a smile on her face as she waved at him.

“Are you reading? I didn’t disturb you, did I?”

“It’s fine. What’s up?” Fang Chang’an could more or less guess her reason for coming. Fang Ying hesitated a little, then, as expected, smiled and asked, “It’s nothing, really. I just wanted to ask, where do you usually buy your steamed buns?”

Fang Chang’an smiled and truthfully told her the location of the bun shop.

Fang Ying had been hesitant before she came, but ultimately reasoned that she was buying buns for her own classmates, not stealing from Class Four, so there was no need to feel guilty. After sorting out her feelings, she came over.

She had considered that Fang Chang’an might tell her, but she hadn’t thought he would be so straightforward—he answered without the slightest hesitation or hint of resentment. She was stunned for a moment, then smiled and said, “Alright, I got it. Thanks.”

“No need to be so polite,” Fang Chang’an replied with a smile.

Fang Ying felt a faint sense of oddness but couldn’t pinpoint why, so she simply nodded and said, “I’ll be going, then.”

Fang Chang’an waved, then turned back to his seat and continued reading.

Shen Mo arrived earlier than usual that day. After sitting down, she glanced at Fang Chang’an, as if wanting to say something.

Fang Chang’an looked at her, his eyes questioning.

The little girl hesitated, then took out her notebook and wrote, “My uncle is going to resign.”

Fang Chang’an was slightly stunned, truly surprised.

Civil servants were not allowed to engage in business; this was an iron rule. Beyond a certain rank, even relatives were restricted. Fang Chang’an didn’t know Shen Chengyan’s exact position, but since he seemed quite free, he guessed he was probably in the system.

He had never thought of having Shen Chengyan get involved directly; he planned to use Cheng Mengfei’s name. At the county or township level, relatives weren’t yet restricted from doing business—the main boundary was not to abuse power or seek personal gain.

But he hadn't expected Shen Chengyan to choose to resign outright.

Shen Mo briefly recounted what she’d heard. Only then did Fang Chang’an understand Shen Chengyan’s thinking: his suggestion was just a catalyst. The true reason was Shen Chengyan’s long-held desire for independence and to do something of his own.

Understanding this, Fang Chang’an felt much more at ease. Thinking further, he realized that perhaps Shen Chengyan’s resignation wasn’t a bad thing. If things developed smoothly, he might be able to guide him toward other ventures.

But what did he really know himself?

Seeing him suddenly lost in thought, Shen Mo couldn’t help but nudge his elbow with her fingertip, her eyes filled with both question and concern.

Fang Chang’an smiled and wrote a few lines, sliding them over to her. The little girl lowered her head to read: “Trust Uncle Shen. He’s an adult—he knows what he wants and what he’s doing.”

Shen Mo finished reading carefully, then looked at him. She still didn’t seem completely reassured, but she nodded, put away the notebook, and started on her homework.

At dusk, after school, Shen Chengyan appeared outside the classroom again. He waved at Fang Chang’an, then said to Shen Mo, who had left the classroom first, “I’m taking Chang’an out for dinner. Will you come with us, or head home?”

Shen Mo glanced back at Fang Chang’an, who was just coming out, and replied sweetly, “I’ll have dinner with Uncle.”

Shen Chengyan seemed to be in a good mood. He patted his little niece’s head and said with a smile, “Alright, Uncle will take you to eat something nice.”

“Uncle Shen,” Fang Chang’an greeted as he walked over.

Shen Chengyan took Shen Mo’s hand and said, “Come on, let’s go eat.”

Fang Chang’an nodded, following him downstairs.

Inside the classroom, Wang Ke watched the trio leave and pouted.

Wang Hao had already left. Zheng Lili turned and asked, “When are we going for dinner?”

“In a bit. I’m not that hungry yet.”

…

Shen Chengyan’s BMW was parked outside the school gate. Once Fang Chang’an and Shen Mo had taken their seats, he started the car and carefully drove through the crowd of students, asking, “Chang’an, what would you like to eat?”

Fang Chang’an smiled. “I’m fine with anything, up to you.”

“What about you, Momo?”

Sitting alone in the back seat, Shen Mo tilted her head in thought. “Hmm… Can we have those pancakes?”

“You mean the braised chicken with flatbread? Sure, I’ll have the owner make extra bread.”

He parked in front of a restaurant on the street—its old sign read “Huangnanji Braised Chicken.”

Shen Chengyan led the two children inside. There were no private rooms, but the space was decent and not crowded. The three of them picked a corner table. The only waitress, dressed in everyday clothes, brought over a laminated menu.

“One order of braised chicken, with two extra servings of bread—put them in the soup,” Shen Chengyan ordered. “And a lamb soup, a cold appetizer platter… and a bottle of cola.”

He didn’t consult Fang Chang’an, but directly ordered three dishes. After the waitress left, he rinsed their utensils with hot water and poured out three glasses of cola.

After a sip, he asked Fang Chang’an quietly, “Are your parents both at home?”

Fang Chang’an nodded. “But my dad is preparing to go out to work.”

“What kind of work?” Shen Chengyan smiled. “It was your idea for our families to partner up. What do you think? Don’t worry, I’ll put up the money. If your parents have free time, they can help out.”

Fang Chang’an had already decided, but he feigned hesitation before replying, “Thank you for your kind offer, Uncle Shen, but there’s no need.”

Shen Chengyan hadn’t expected a refusal, nor that Fang Chang’an wouldn’t even consult his parents. “Why not?”

“Partnering with you would definitely make more money, and my parents wouldn’t have to leave home. But they’ve barely ever been outside our town. In the long run, it’s better for them to go out at least once.”

He spoke with a hint of uncertainty, but still continued under Shen Chengyan’s surprised gaze, “Also, I read somewhere that China joined the WT-something a couple of years ago—means we can do business with foreign countries. That’s why so many people are able to go out for work. So, maybe my dad will find better opportunities elsewhere.”

While Fang Chang’an spoke, Shen Mo sat nearby, sipping her cola. Her bright eyes sparkled, not quite understanding what was being said, but sensing it made sense.

“I’m impressed,” Shen Chengyan said with a laugh. “You know quite a bit for your age. By your logic, should I be leaving too?”

Fang Chang’an smiled shyly. “But you went to college, Uncle Shen. You’re contributing to your hometown’s development. It’s not the same.”

Shen Chengyan couldn’t help laughing, pointing at him. “Sometimes I really wonder how you grew up. You act just like an adult... Truly…”

He was about to say, “A poor child grows up fast,” but thought better of it in front of the children. Instead, he changed the subject, “So this was your idea. If your family isn’t involved, how am I supposed to do it?”

“I was just throwing out suggestions,” Fang Chang’an replied.

“Hey now,” Shen Chengyan waved his hand. “You can’t do things that way. Sometimes a good idea is worth a fortune...”

He thought for a moment, decided not to dwell on it, and continued, “You’re mature for your age; I won’t treat you like a child, and you shouldn’t hide things from me either. I don’t know much about business—if you have any ideas, just say them.”

Fang Chang’an considered. “You should focus only on management and operations, and hire help. The owner of the bun shop I buy from would be perfect. Their business isn’t great, so they probably don’t make much. You could hire them to handle the buns. Of course, the two of them wouldn’t be enough; you’d need to recruit a few apprentices.”

“The shop should be located among several schools. It’s okay if it’s off the main road, or even not a proper storefront, but ideally it is—that way, people can see and trust it more. Besides breakfast, you could open at other times too.”

“For delivery, you can hire part-timers. In town, it shouldn’t be hard to find people. One person per school—if the dismissal times are different, one person could cover several schools.”

“The main obstacles, aside from the school cafeteria, would be handling orders and communication. Every Sunday, tally up pre-orders for the week. The first week, allow daily orders so people can try it out.”

Shen Chengyan, who had been mulling over whether to start the business at all, hadn’t thought through the details. He listened intently.

The waitress brought over the cold platter. Only then did Shen Chengyan pick up his chopsticks and say, “Let’s eat and talk.”

Fang Chang’an agreed, taking some spinach and enoki mushrooms—refreshing and tasty.

Shen Mo picked up a peanut, popped it in her mouth, and watched Fang Chang’an, waiting for him to continue. She didn’t really understand, but listened intently.

“Once things are running, you could add other foods, like soup dumplings. Drinks, too—though spicy soup isn’t practical; maybe soy milk or milk instead.”

“Boarding students probably won’t spend on this, but a lot of local kids will order.”

Shen Mo asked, “Soup dumplings are still buns. If we eat buns every day, won’t we get tired of them?”

Fang Chang’an hadn’t expected her to be so serious. He smiled, “As long as the buns are more cost-effective than the cafeteria, I think plenty of people will eat them until graduation. When you’re hungry, taste doesn’t matter much.”

This was his sincere opinion—one could even call it experience. In his past life, he ate thick steamed bread with chili strips in the cafeteria nearly every day—fifty cents a meal, all through graduation.

Pan-fried buns were a luxury then, something he only got when he was sick and an uncle would bring him to the bun shop outside the infirmary.

This was the reality for many classmates, too. Besides grades, everyone quietly compared how little they spent on living expenses. For parents, frugality was a virtue worth boasting about, proof their child “knew how to live.”