A Few Stories About Going Shopping with the Landlord's Family

After stepping out from the ground plaza, one would walk along Baohua Road.

Just this single street alone was lined with numerous delicious eateries.

The most famous among them was the shop called Chan Tim Kee Fish Skin.

Its reputation stemmed from its simple, straightforward preparation and fresh ingredients.

They took a dace fish, drained its blood and peeled off the skin—only two pieces per fish. The extracted fish skin was then blanched in boiling water to tighten its texture.

But timing was crucial. Since fish skin was essentially collagen, overcooking would cause it to dissolve.

Thus, the blanching time had to be precise.

Once done, it was immediately placed in an icebox to set and chill.

Sprinkled with peanuts, scallions, and shredded ginger, then drizzled with a secret sauce, it became an outstanding delicacy.

Unlike the later-popularized pickled pepper fish skin, which was typically processed with alkaline solutions,

that version appeared thicker but would quickly melt when scalded with hot water.

Continuing down Baohua Road, at a crossroads, one could see someone beckoning customers at the entrance of an alley.

However, the sign above the door didn’t read "Chan Tim Kee Fish Skin" but "Chan Lo Tim Fish Skin."

In most cases, when the impostor meets the real deal, the impostor would slink away.

But this "Chan Lo Tim Fish Skin" shop was set up even before the genuine Chan Tim Kee.

Some said it was a family split, others claimed it was riding on the fame.

Either way, one thing was certain—the owner of Chan Lo Tim Fish Skin had no shame.

"Boss, here for some fish skin?"

Lin Mo silently walked past the shop, heading deeper into the alley where the authentic Chan Tim Kee was located.

"It’s been so long since I last had this. I wonder if the taste has changed."

Having come this far, Auntie Zheng couldn’t help but sigh.

Lin Mo ordered two boxes of fish skin—one for himself and one for Xie Yuling and Auntie Zheng.

After all, Lin Mo had a hearty appetite and preferred to indulge fully.

Chan Tim Kee Fish Skin only served three dishes.

The first was the chilled fish skin salad, the second was rice noodle rolls with pork, and the third was sampan congee.

Truthfully, only the fish skin was worth trying—the other two were rather ordinary.

Or, to put it bluntly, there were better alternatives elsewhere.

The two boxes of fish skin arrived quickly.

Auntie Zheng couldn’t resist commenting, "One box is enough just to sample the taste."

Lin Mo nodded. "Right, one for you and Yuling, and one for me."

Opening the box, the well-mixed fish skin was generously topped with sesame seeds and crispy fried peanuts, exuding a rich aroma.

Lin Mo picked up a pair of disposable chopsticks and took a bite.

The texture wasn’t too different from the bighead carp fish skin he’d had at the hot springs, and the flavor was similarly close.

Xie Yuling tried a bite and glanced at Lin Mo.

"It tastes about the same as the fish skin we had at Uncle Fang Jun’s farm."

Lin Mo chuckled lightly.

"Honestly, by now, the method for chilled fish skin salad isn’t some exclusive secret.

Even random shops serve it with only slight variations in sweetness, sourness, or spiciness.

But Chan Tim Kee is an old establishment—the first to open in Goat City decades ago. Back then, fifty cents for fish skin was already pricey.

Most importantly, it was the very first fish skin dish in this land."

What Lin Mo didn’t say aloud was that in today’s world of abundance, fish skin wasn’t particularly remarkable. People came here mostly for nostalgia, treating it as a casual snack.

Especially a decade later, when the price would soar to nearly thirty yuan.

Yet, the shop would switch from dace fish skin to grass carp skin.

Eventually, even that would be replaced by some unspecified fish skin,

leaving the taste and texture a far cry from memory.

Still, Xie Yuling and Auntie Zheng enjoyed it well enough—after all, the quality at this time remained decent.

Lin Mo finished his entire box, while most of the other box went to Auntie Zheng.

Xie Yuling, finding it similar to the farm’s version, ate sparingly, leaving more for her mother.

Auntie Zheng nodded. "This shop is just like before. Guess it’s been too long—my memory’s gotten fuzzy."

Leaving the alley, they finally headed toward Shangxiajiu.

Shangxiajiu was a collective term,

divided into Shangjiu Road and Xiajiu Road, though neither was particularly long.

Since it was the weekend and a pedestrian street,

stone barriers blocked vehicle access at the end,

allowing people to walk freely in the middle of the road.

On both sides stood numerous large clothing markets. While the brands might not be high-end, the quality was decent.

After all, Goat City was a hub for garment exports, so most clothes here were affordable yet well-made.

Of course, the key was still to inspect them firsthand and check the fit.

Auntie Zheng charged ahead like a general, while Xie Yuling and Lin Mo trailed behind meekly.

"Actually, all these years, my mom’s been the one picking my clothes. Everything she chooses is great quality."

"That impressive?" Lin Mo was hearing this for the first time.

Thinking back, in his past life, he’d been too shy to join outings, so it made sense he wouldn’t know.

Before he could dwell further, Auntie Zheng returned with a trendy hoodie, holding it up against Lin Mo.

"This one’s nice. I knew it—you’ve grown taller recently. This size fits just about right."

Xie Yuling whispered, "I heard Mom used to sell clothes, even traveled to Hong Kong and Macau."

Auntie Zheng laughed. "That was ages ago. Nowadays, who still hustles like that, lugging clothes around to hawk at markets?"

Since it was winter, they shopped for New Year outfits—jackets, innerwear, pants, and shoes—all in one go.

As they walked, the bags in Lin Mo’s hands multiplied.

Being the guy, he naturally became the mobile luggage rack.

Still, Auntie Zheng cautioned them as they walked.

"Even though public safety’s improved, pickpockets are still around. Keep an eye on your phones and wallets."

Though a patrol electric cart happened to pass by,

the pedestrian street was packed shoulder-to-shoulder, making pickpockets an inevitable nuisance.

Plus, with mobile payments not yet dominant, this era was arguably the last golden age for thieves.

Lin Mo’s spiritual sense had already detected a few pickpockets, but he took no action—several plainclothes anti-theft officers were nearby.

The mantis stalks the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind. This was that very scenario.

Just then, someone shouted, "He stole my stuff!"

A figure dashed past, a wallet pinched between his fingers.

Clearly a pickpocket, but one whose luck had run out mid-crime.

Now, his only option was to bolt.

The main street was flanked by numerous alleys—once he weaved into that labyrinth, no one could catch him.