Chapter 610 The Thin Little Boy
At the same time, community culture has taken deeper root in the restaurant. On weekend afternoons, handicraft classes are set up, and nearby housewives sit with their children to learn how to weave winter felt objects and draw snow-scene greeting cards. Friendships are woven between the weaving of wool and the sketching of colored pens. Qi Tongwei is often asked to be a "model", wearing a crooked woolen hat, holding childlike paintings, and posing funny poses. The frozen moments are posted all over the "community memory wall", and each photo is a small portrait of life, freezing the time spent with neighbors.
The first snow of winter fluttered, and the restaurant transformed into a warm "snow house". The hot pot gurgled and the hot steam blurred the window lattice. Diners shook off the snowflakes and walked in, instantly enveloped by the warmth. Qi Tongwei noticed that there were a few more old scavengers among the regulars, and quietly prepared a warm seat in the corner for them, serving free hot soup and soft steamed buns. When their eyes met, respect and kindness flowed quietly. The snowy nights were long, and there were often travelers knocking on the door. He would add a set of bowls and chopsticks, listen to stories from foreign lands, and make the restaurant an unexpected warm nest for those returning home in the snow. Although they met by chance, it was heartwarming.
At the end of the year and the beginning of the next year, when summarizing and calculating, the account figures rose steadily, but Qi Tongwei was more concerned about those intangible treasures. Hundreds of books were added to the bookshelf, all donated and shared by diners; the walls were piled with thank-you letters in different handwritings, expressing gratitude from the taste of the dishes to the care of the soul; the staff had a year-end dinner, and after three rounds of wine, the tears in their eyes were like the bond of family. This small world has withstood the storms of business, nurtured warm flowers, and has become the heart of the community, with the heat of life in its pulse.
Preparations for the New Year are in full swing. The ink of the Spring Festival couplets has not yet dried, but the word "Fu" has been pasted all over the doors and windows. Qi Tongwei led everyone to sweep the house to welcome the new year, and even the corners were wiped spotlessly. His daughter stood on tiptoe to hang a Chinese knot, and the red silk fluttered, as if it was tied to all the auspiciousness. He bought the ingredients himself, shuttled through the market to pick the freshest fruits and vegetables, the most plump meat, and bargained with the vendors. He laughed loudly, full of the intimacy of worldly fireworks.
The New Year's Eve banquet was brightly lit, the elderly and widows in the community were treated as honored guests, the children performed childish programs around them, and Qi Tongwei prepared delicacies, with each dish name containing a blessing. When the bell rang, fireworks soared into the sky. He stood at the door, looking at the colorful sky, his family, friends, and neighbors hugged and cheered, and his heart was clear - the ups and downs of the past were all prologues, and the reunion, daily good deeds, and fireworks watching at this moment were the most beautiful arrangement of fate.
In the early spring, the city planning blueprint was rolled out, and the street where the restaurant was located was included in the "Cultural Ancient Alley Revitalization" project. When the news came, there was both anxiety and expectation. Renovation means variables, or rent fluctuations, and layout restrictions, but Qi Tongwei was determined. This is a challenge and an opportunity for sublimation. He studied the planning details day and night, communicated with the designer, and tried his best to ensure that the restaurant retained its ancient charm while incorporating trendy literary and artistic elements. He hoped that it would become a new landmark in the ancient alley and continue to write a legend.
After more than a month of construction, the dust was flying but it could not hide the light of hope. When the old wall was demolished, the diners spontaneously helped to carry the sundries and treasured the old things; when the new wall was built, the neighbors handed over tea and snacks to reward the workers. Qi Tongwei shuttled between them, coordinating and dispatching, his clothes were wet with sweat, but his smile never fell off. When the new restaurant was unveiled, with blue tiles, white walls, carved window lattices, and the old stove seat retained inside, a new open-air stage was added, and the art performances could directly reflect the stars in the night sky. Everyone was amazed that this was no longer a simple restaurant, but an ark of cultural heritage, sailing on the tide of the times, full of life aspirations.
The summer cicadas chirp for a long time, and the first peak season after the rejuvenation is full of tourists. Foreign travelers come here following the fragrance, are impressed by the special dishes, and linger on the restaurant's stories, taking photos and checking in, and the popularity on social media soars. Qi Tongwei stands at the door, welcoming guests from all over the world, handing out menus and offering enthusiasm, watching people of different skin colors and accents find comfort in this world, as if seeing that life has no boundaries, kindness and warmth can cross mountains and seas, and take root in every corner of the world in the name of fireworks.
In the autumn breeze and the fragrance of golden osmanthus, the restaurant was invited to participate in the city's "Food Culture Exchange Festival". Qi Tongwei led his staff to carefully prepare, select the best dishes to carve and arrange them on the plate. When cooking on the spot, fireworks rose, the fragrance overflowed, and the explanation of the origin of the dishes was charming, conquering the taste buds and souls of the judges and winning the championship in one fell swoop. On the podium, the trophy was shining, and the tears in his eyes were not for glory, but for recalling the hardships of the road. He understood that only by sticking to the original intention and following the rhythm of life can the ordinary be extraordinary. The rewards of fate are never absent, just waiting for time to settle.
In the following years, the restaurant has remained at the forefront, but its original intention has not changed. Regular charity banquets are held to entertain city guardians; food is delivered to poor families on holidays; literary and artistic inheritance classes are held from children to the elderly, with the sound of calligraphy and opera. Qi Tongwei's temples are gradually turning white, but his eyes are getting brighter. He shuttles between tables and chairs, and his figure seems to be integrated into the soul of the restaurant. He knows that this journey is a combination of life's hardships and rewards. Violence or twists and turns are all in the past. Every moment of warmth and every smile are the most exquisite strokes of fate, drawing a unique way home, leading to the eternal fireworks world.
As autumn deepens, the rich aroma of golden osmanthus fills the streets, and the afterglow of the restaurant's victory has not yet dissipated. Qi Tongwei stroked the trophy, his fingertips ran over the lines, and the past came flooding back. From the ignorance of the first step into the catering industry, through the shock of food supply shortages and sudden changes in customer flow, to the glory now, every step seems to be stepping on the edge of a knife, and if you are not careful, you will be crushed to pieces. The momentary tears on the podium condensed countless dark struggles before dawn, the cold sweat of being forced into a corner by the bill, and the sleepless nights when the tide of bad reviews came. Fortunately, they all came through, relying on the pure attachment to fireworks and the persistence of the original intention.
In the days that followed, the restaurant continued to emit soft light, like a warm jade embedded in the fabric of the city. Whenever firefighters returned from extinguishing fires and police officers returned from duty, the charity banquet table was already filled with delicacies, and the steaming hot food soothed their weathered shoulders; during festivals, Qi Tongwei personally drove a car loaded with food boxes to poor neighborhoods, knocked on mottled doors, handed out warm rice and hot soup, and looked at the children's surprised eyes, as if he saw the hope of life being passed on; in the literary and artistic inheritance classroom, pen, ink, paper and inkstone spread out the long scroll of history, and opera singing awakened the dormant cultural spirit, from the crooked strokes of children to the vigorous writing marks of the elderly, from the babbling of children to the graceful chanting of amateurs, the cultural fire gradually spread like wildfire, and the restaurant became a source of inheritance, nourishing the soul.
Time goes by, but the world quietly changes. Smoke is looming in the distance, and the ripples of unrest are spreading to the small town. There are more foreign faces among the regular customers of the restaurant, with panicked expressions, carrying shabby bags, and the war drove them away from their hometowns to find a little stability here. Qi Tongwei's heart tightened, and he silently added a bowl of hot porridge and made room for a bed. He didn't ask about the past, but only gave shelter to the present, because he knew the bitter taste of displacement.
One day, a thin little boy broke into the store. His dirty face could not hide his lively eyes, and he looked at the food timidly.