Mrs. Clark responded, opened a basket of freshly steamed buns, and brought them to her husband. There were eight buns in a basket: the boss and the first wife got three each, she ate one herself, and the last one was split in half for the two young servants.

Grace Bolton and Henry Cooper, of course, were not qualified to sit at the table. Each of them ate half a bun, then gulped down a bowl of thin porridge. When they saw the boss’s family had almost finished eating, one of them cleverly went up to clear the table, while the other hurried to open the door.

As soon as the door opened, the noise from outside poured in.

“Boss, you’re open! Come on, three baskets of buns!” Although the sun had just come up, familiar customers were already waiting.

“I’ll take two baskets as well!”

“My appetite is small, just half a basket for me, haha. Mr. Harris, are there still seats inside?”

“Aiya, you’ve taken a concubine and hired help—Mr. Harris, you’re really getting richer and richer. You have to treat us today, you must!” A middle-aged man strode over.

“Of course, Mr. Thompson, what are you saying? Would I ever let you pay? Your presence alone brings honor to my shop. Please, come in, come in!” At this moment, Mr. Harris was all smiles, greeting everyone warmly.

As soon as the door opened, people outside surged in. Mr. Harris personally led Mr. Thompson to a table. Grace Bolton quickly and deftly stepped forward to wipe down the table and chairs again, then brought over three baskets of buns without letting Mr. Thompson wait even a moment: “Mr. Thompson, please enjoy.”

“Hmm, haven’t seen you in a few days, this helper is doing pretty well!” Mr. Thompson remarked casually.

“She’s my young wife, rescued from the river. Didn’t expect her to be so handy!” Mr. Harris beamed. This Mr. Thompson was not someone to offend. The shop’s profits depended on his patronage. If not for a bit of family connection, how could they have such good fortune? Three baskets of buns for breakfast and three for a late-night snack every day—was that all it took to keep him happy?

Other customers came and went as well. Now, the first wife only needed to collect money and did nothing else, while the other three were kept busy running around.

Here, a basket of buns contained eight pieces, each basket costing fifteen wen. Three baskets made forty-five wen, but if sold individually, each bun cost two wen. Those who came into the shop always ate by the basket, while those outside bought them individually. When Mrs. Clark brought a steaming basket of meat and vegetable buns to the front, she saw the boss and boss’s wife busy inside, so she quickly grabbed two buns and stuffed them into the hands of Grace Bolton, who had come out to help. She whispered, “Eat up, I know you’re not full. That porridge you had was too thin.”

Grace Bolton quickly grabbed a bun and stuffed it into his mouth, mumbling, “Mrs. Clark, you’re truly a good person!”

He really was hungry. This was hard work, going late into the night every day, and in the morning, they had to get up before sunrise to prepare.

After quickly eating two buns, he went back inside to help, needing to relieve Henry Cooper. He knew very well that if he ate alone, Henry Cooper would definitely tattle—not out of malice, but simply because it was the natural thing to do.

He responded casually, picked up two baskets of buns, and went into the shop, giving Henry Cooper a look. Henry Cooper cheered softly, quickly left the crowd, and went outside to help, enjoying his share of two buns as well.

They were both fourteen or fifteen, still growing, and of course needed a lot of food. Thin porridge simply wasn’t enough.

The buns were indeed delicious, and there were plenty of customers. It wasn’t until after mid-morning that the breakfast crowd gradually dispersed, and the boss and boss’s wife were happily counting today’s earnings.

Once the boss and boss’s wife finished counting all the money, it was finally time for a short break.

The sun was nearing noon. Although the bun shop didn’t serve lunch, some people still sat around drinking tea, or a few would have some buns and a little wine. But these were all locals they knew.

Since ancient times, places like this were much like inns—the fastest places for news to spread. A few men, clearly dock workers or small-time gang members, started chatting: “Did you hear? Lord Situ rebelled, but the court put it down again.”

“Yeah, the emperor campaigned against Goguryeo twice, and Lord Situ rebelled in June, forcing the emperor to return and ruining everything! But I heard he died, just last month, in August!”

To ordinary people, these discussions were just like listening to storytellers, but Grace Bolton listened carefully. After half a month here, he knew this was the Sui dynasty. He paid close attention to what was said, cross-referencing it with his knowledge of history, and realized it was now the ninth year of the Daye era, in September. After all, those years of reading on his sickbed weren’t for nothing, and because he liked “Twin Dragons of the Tang,” he had even studied Sui and Tang history.

If he was right, this Lord Situ was Yang Xuangan—born to a noble family, with many of his father’s old subordinates among the court officials. Seeing the government in chaos and rebel armies everywhere, he seized the opportunity and led troops to seize a city on the third day of the sixth month, starting a rebellion, only to die at Jialu Garrison in early August.

Chapter One: Awakening (Part Two)