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Rise of the Street Vendor: From Tragedy to Triumph

Rise of the Street Vendor: From Tragedy to Triumph

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Billionaire

Rise of the Street Vendor: From Tragedy to Triumph PDF Free Download

Introdução

Awaking one day as a peasant girl, her mother newly widowed, her younger brother a crippled infant. Village thieves loomed ahead, wicked men ignited a devastating fire behind. Overnight, the Tan family was left devastated. Tan Wan soothingly combed her tearful little sister's hair: "Why cry? Your older sister is here." A month later, a food stall opened in the northern part of Ningyuan County. At the night market on West Street under the moonlit willow treetops, the fragrant smells of spicy snail noodles, crispy stinky tofu, and duck blood vermicelli soup wafted for miles. The owner of the northern county restaurant waved customers away, "Quick! We're closing early today. Madam Tan is closing her stall!" Madam Li, who only ever ate delicacies like shark fin and bird's nest in public, sent her maid to the Tan's food stall. "Buy more of the snail noodles. Be discreet." The governor of Yunzhou, entertaining the Imperial Censor Lu who came from Beijing, offered him some food: "Please eat, this is the famous Tan family Crispy Stinky Tofu." Prim and indifferent, with a picky palate, Lu Xiu barely glanced at the table before he turned to leave. At dusk on the last day of the month, in the bustling West Street night market, with a hiss, the newly hired assistant cook at the Tan's restaurant dropped the block of black tofu into the frying pan. Tan Wan handed him a sleeve guard, "Strap this on, don't get splashed with oil." "Alright," came the response clear and cool as if a jade stone struck another. The Governor watched this from afar, cold sweat trickling down. The man wearing a crown hat, with an expression that was both angry and nobly charming, and frying stinky tofu with the fluid grace one has in familiar action – could it be anyone but Imperial Censor Lu?
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Chapter 1

As twilight falls, a thin mist gently enshrouds Yúnyáo village, nestled in the mountains by the water, hiding the soft moonlight in its capacious veil.

Residual snow from winter has barely started to melt away, the echoes of mourning from a recent funeral fades away, leaving only silence throughout the village, intensifying the chill and gloom of the harsh cold weather.

At dusk, the villagers retreat home, the world an unbroken darkness. Except for the Tan Household, their compound emits a dancing glow of dim light, with a mourning lamp burning steadily - an emblem of grief for the departed.

The house isn't large, an open living room adjoined by two side rooms to the east and west. The courtyard carries an old musty smell, hinting a long absence of any occupants.

Having toiled the entire day, Tan Wan steps out of her kitchen, carrying a tray of warm steamed buns and pickled vegetables into the living room. The noise of the tray being set on the table interrupts the silent prayers of a woman sitting on the mat.

"Ah Ya, What time is it?"

Madam Qin slowly asks, her voice hoarse and difficult to distinguish.

"It's the hour of Xu, Madam. You haven't eaten anything all day. Please take care of your health."

The flickering light casts warm radiance over a fair and neat melon-seed-shaped face. Her brows are like distant mountains, cheeks rosy and fresh, clear almond-shaped eyes full of concern.

"I can't eat right now. Just leave it." After her reply, Madam Qin closes her reddened eyes again, continuing her mourning.

The billowing smoke from two incense sticks on the worn-out wooden table chokes the senses. Tan Wan coughs twice, disregarding Madam Qin, she retreats to the bedroom. Noticing her six-year-old sister, Tan Yue, dozing off on a low stool, she gingerly carries her to the bed, undressing her thick hemp clothing.

Overwhelmed with tiredness, Tan Yue's weak hands rub her red weary eyes, turns sideways, she snuggles up to her unconscious younger brother, Tan Yi, and falls into a deep sleep.

The shoddily paper-pasted wooden window is incapable of blocking the chilling winds. Curled up in her bed, Tan Wan's hands and feet are freezing, she can't help but gaze at the dim light from the oil lamp, finding sleep elusive.

In modern times, she was accustomed to staying up late, and the abrupt transition into this era had disrupted her sleep schedule.

Just three days ago, she was a gold-medal chef at a city-based catering company called Zhiweizhai, still basking in the glory of her recent golden chef award. However, a tragic accident on her way back from the award ceremony put her in a coma. When she woke up, she found herself in a place named BiShuiZhen, Yúnyáo village in Yan Dynasty, taking the place and the name of Tan Wan, the eldest daughter of a local cook.

The cook named Qin Baili was a renowned chef in the Yunyao village. With his exceptional culinary skills, he managed to open a highly successful restaurant in the town called Qin's. In just a few years, the Qin family managed to progress from cloth clothes to silk, becoming the envy of everyone in Yunyao village.

With the Qin family doing better and better, their fourteen-year-old daughter, Qin Wan, was growing up to be a beautiful young lady. The number of matchmakers knocking on their door was countless. However, her mother, Mrs. Qin, disliked the scholars in the town; they were either too poor or spoke in a very pretentious and pedantic way, which she believed was not suitable for daily life. She often heard from the dramas she watched that those scholars would abandon their wives as soon as they pass the imperial exam and marry the daughter of a high official or even a princess. This made her skeptical about their reliability.

Mr. Qin also wanted to keep his eldest daughter with him for a few more years, so Qin Wan's marriage was postponed.

Just last year in January, while the Qin family was packing up to go back to the village for the New Year, their four-year-old son Qin Yi fell from the mule cart, which rolled over his legs and left him paralyzed. The town doctor rushed over with his medicine box and examined him, shaking his head like a rattle and claiming that Qin Yi's meridians were blocked and he'd probably never be able to stand for the rest of his life. The treatment would cost at least five taels of silver per month.

The Qin family had finally given birth to a precious son; if Qin Yi ended up disabled, who would inherit Qin's restaurant?

Mr. Qin, of course, wasn't willing to give up. "Treat him, no matter how much it costs!" he declared.

The doctor, not daring to argue with Mr. Qin, hastily wrote down the prescription.

Angelica, Chuanxiong for promoting blood circulation, Codonopsis for replenishing Qi, tiger bone for strengthening tendons and bones - the list of expensive herbs went on.

Although the Qin family had become increasingly wealthy, their wealth was still not considerable. They only made around seven to eight taels a month. Household expenses took at least two taels, the embroidery lessons for Qin Wan and her younger sister Qin Yue at the teaching academy cost another half tael, and there were other social expenses, which they could hardly afford.

With the treatment, they spent money like water. The Qin family once again switched from silk clothes back to cloth ones, removed all their gold hairpins and silver bracelets, and Qin Wan and her sister had to withdraw from the academy.