A nation's industrial development begins with junior engineers.

Stepping out of the slightly dimly lit exhibition hall at the old site, they were immediately embraced again by the salty afternoon sun and sea breeze. Jiang Xia squinted, leaving the heavy historical atmosphere behind for the time being, but his stomach rumbled at just the right moment, reminding him that the bowl of seaweed jelly he had just eaten was long gone.

"Hungry?" Old Wang chuckled. "I know this area well. Come on, I'll take you to find something more substantial."

The two hadn't gone far when, at the corner of the adjacent street, they caught a tantalizing aroma—a blend of smoky, garlicky, and subtly sesame paste scents—drifting on the breeze.

"Wow, this tastes authentic!" Old Wang sniffed and pointed to a stall not far away. "It's stir-fried sweet potato starch, a famous snack in Dalian. It's made with sweet potato starch and you can buy it without ration coupons."

Looking in the direction he pointed, I saw a simple stall set up by the roadside. A large flat-bottomed frying pan was placed on a coal stove. The stall owner was a woman in her fifties, who was skillfully stirring the contents of the pan with an iron spatula.

The jelly is a yellowish-brown gelatinous substance, cut into even small pieces, and sizzling in hot oil. A golden, crispy crust gradually forms on the surface, making it look incredibly appetizing.

The old lady would occasionally use a small flat brush to add a little oil to the bottom of the pot, her movements practiced, and casually ask the onlookers, "Want some? 5 cents a small plate, 1 mao all you can eat!"

The aroma was so enticing that there were three or five people queuing up.

Jiang Xia's feet moved over involuntarily, but his eyes were slightly unfocused. He quietly watched the woman work, watched her chat and laugh with regular customers, and watched her take out change from her purse.

This scene, full of everyday life, left Jiang Xia with a clear question mark in his mind.

In his mind, or rather, in his understanding of "common sense," this kind of private street vending seemed to be inconsistent with certain "rules."

The imagery in his memory clashed with the vivid reality before him. He clearly remembered that not long ago, let alone a small stall of this size, even farmers who secretly brought their own eggs into the city to sell had to live in constant fear.

But now, on the streets of Dalian, although food stalls are not everywhere, you can always find a few scattered around, and they all seem to be doing pretty well.

Weren't street vending prohibited?

He muttered to himself, nudged Old Wang beside him with his elbow, lowered his voice, and gestured toward the pancake stall: "On the night of the Lantern Festival, you said those were all commune members organized by the commune, and selling things was a collective task. Now it's broad daylight, and the people on the street... can't possibly still be commune members, can they?"

Just as Lao Wang was about to respond, the line moved forward two steps and ended up right in front of them.

The stall owner was a very shrewd and observant woman. She immediately recognized Jiang Xia as a newcomer and, before they could even order, she had already picked up a spatula, scooped out the crispiest, golden-brown fried meatballs from the pot, and deftly ladled them into two small plates.

Next, garlic sauce and sesame paste were drizzled evenly, and finally a small handful of fresh cilantro was sprinkled on top. The movements were fluid and graceful. With a smile, the sauce was handed to the two of them: "Here you go, young men! Try our authentic Dalian-style braised meat. It's fresh out of the pot, crispy on the outside and tender on the inside, and very fragrant! Have a taste first!"

Jiang Xia took the iron plate, picked up a piece of braised meat with a small iron fork, and put it in his mouth.

Wow! The outer skin is crispy and chewy, while the inside is soft, chewy, and bouncy. The freshness of garlic, the richness of sesame paste, and the natural fragrance of the braised meat spread instantly on the tongue.

Jiang Xia's eyes lit up, and he exclaimed sincerely, "Auntie, your cooking is truly authentic! Crispy on the outside and tender on the inside, it's even more delicious than many restaurants I've eaten at."

"Haha, young man, you have good taste!" The old lady beamed with joy at the praise, her hand never stopping as she continued to stir the stew in the pot. "This recipe is a family tradition, we've been making it for almost twenty years. We use high-quality ingredients and cook it to perfection, the neighbors all love to come and eat here!"

"Auntie, two large ones, please!" Jiang Xia said first, her eyes still scanning the stall owner and her simple belongings.

After watching for a while, Jiang Xia noticed that there was actually a snack stall behind the small stall. A middle-aged man with a dark complexion was guarding a large iron plate that was blackened by the charcoal fire.

On the hot plate, several plump, fresh squid sizzled and changed color rapidly under the high temperature.

The vendor skillfully flipped the squid with a small iron spatula, occasionally using a brush to apply the prepared garlic and chili sauce evenly to the surface of the squid.

Suck...

want to eat!

Jiang Xia wiped away the tears streaming from the corner of his mouth. It really has to be a coastal city; they've really eaten a lot here!

Boss Qian, Boss Guo, thank you both so much. To commend you for taking the blame, I've decided to throw a huge scapegoat at you once the data platform's baseline framework is released...

……

The older woman quickly began making the food, her mouth never stopping as she cheerfully asked, "Judging from your accent, comrade, you're not from around here, are you? Are you here on a business trip?"

"Yeah, I'm here to take care of something." Jiang Xia nodded, then took the opportunity to ask, "Big sister, is it convenient for your stall to be set up here? Is no one taking care of it?"

Upon hearing this, the old woman didn't stop what she was doing, but her smile became even more genuine, even tinged with pride:

"Manage? Of course we manage! Comrades from the subdistrict office and the municipal management committee have all come to register!"

"I didn't just set this up haphazardly on my own! It's all thanks to the district and subdistrict leaders who are considerate of us ordinary people!"

As she spoke, the old woman turned to the side, gesturing for Jiang Xia to look at a large clip behind her.

The clip held a large leather-bound booklet, inside which was neatly pasted a small piece of paper with a red stamp. Although the handwriting was not very clear, it had the feel of a modern individual business license.

"Don't laugh at me, but we were struggling a couple of years ago. My husband passed away early, and I was all alone at home. I didn't have any proper job, and we almost couldn't make ends meet."

Later, district officials visited me, learned about my difficulties, and told me that the government has policies allowing people like me with skills and facing financial difficulties to engage in small, scattered businesses that state-run stores can't handle, supplementing the market and providing a way to make a living.

"The cadre said that my 'mianzi' (a type of sweet potato starch dish) is not a scarce commodity; it's a small handicraft made from sweet potato starch, which meets the policy requirements," the old woman said as she handed the finished 'mianzi' to Jiang Xia.

"The officials even helped me register at the street office and gave me a certificate permitting me to set up a stall. They told me that as long as I didn't speculate or inflate prices, I could do business with peace of mind. They also designated this unobstructed spot for me to set up my stall, in case I blocked the road and affected pedestrians."

She picked up the kettle next to her, added some water to the coal stove, and continued, "Once, during a heavy rain, my little stall shed was leaking. It was the comrades from the neighborhood committee who noticed it and brought people over the next day to help me reinforce the shed. Don't you think these leaders truly care about us ordinary people? They don't just pay lip service; they genuinely take our difficulties to heart and help us solve practical problems!"

The old woman's voice wasn't loud, but every word was sincere, and her eyes shone with genuine light: "Now I set up my stall here every day, and the money I earn is enough for me to eat and drink, and I can even save a little. Life is much more stable now. It's all thanks to the Party and the leaders that ordinary people like us can make a living with our own skills and have hope for the future!"

Jiang Xia hummed in agreement, then forked another piece of braised meat and put it in her mouth; the taste seemed even more mellow.

As the old woman continued to greet the people queuing behind her, Jiang Xia's thoughts suddenly drifted back to the night of the Lantern Festival.

He recalled that when the event ended, he vaguely heard the two local officials whispering, discussing whether they could organize more activities that the masses would enjoy.

At the time, he thought it was just a routine work discussion. But now, combined with the vibrant street stalls in front of him and the stall owner's honest words about "the higher-ups leaving us a way to make a living," he suddenly realized that those cadres who kept saying they "had to think about the needs of the masses" truly cared about the people's livelihood and hopes.

One more event might bring more business to the "aunties" and "masters" on this street, allowing them to earn more food to make a living.

Jiang Xia watched the old woman's busy yet composed figure, and then looked at the steaming hot bacon in the iron plate. He suddenly felt that the lively atmosphere on the street not only contained the aroma of delicious food, but also the warmth of people's hearts.

These were difficult times...

This is an era of striving...

But this is also an era full of hope!

Living in such an era... Jiang Xia felt that perhaps he should be more involved.

For example, two more servings of grilled squid!

No need to share with Old Wang!

Hey, it's me, Jiang Xia, here to be a street food vlogger!

Nothing soothes the human heart more than the warmth of everyday life...

As Jiang Xia was experiencing the everyday life of this era, little did he know that someone was also observing him...