The Noodle Shop Before Dawn - 天还没亮的拉面馆

Before dawn, a noodle shop on a small street in Lanzhou already had its lights on. The broth in the big pot had been simmering since last night, and steam rose from it. The noodle master, in a white cap and a white apron, was getting the first batch of noodles ready.

At the counter, the master kept pulling the dough, and the noodles got thinner and thinner. He had just finished one piece when an old man pushed the door open and said, "One bowl, spicy." The master nodded and dropped the noodles into the pot.

The sky grew a little lighter. More and more customers came, and the line stretched to the street corner. Some people were looking at their phones. A young man said, "The broth is great, and the noodles are good too. There's only one pot of broth. When it's sold out, that's it."

Bowl after bowl of noodles went out. The girl at the cash register took money and called out numbers: "Number thirty-eight! Number thirty-nine!" When customers heard their number, they came to pick up their noodles. The master pulled faster, and the dough quickly turned into thin noodles.

There was less and less broth. Each time the master cooked noodles, he scooped out a ladle of broth. The pot had been full just a little while ago, and now it was almost empty. He had to pull noodles and watch the pot at the same time. The girl called again, "Number fifty-one!"

The line was still long, and the people at the back didn't know the broth was almost gone. A mother said to her child, "Almost there, only a few people left ahead of us." The child asked, "Are the noodles good?" She said, "This place is cheap, and the food is good too."

The master scooped again, and the ladle hit the bottom of the pot. He scooped once more and got only a tiny bit of broth. He handed out that bowl and stopped working. There was still plenty of dough on the counter, but the broth was gone.

The master walked to the doorway, held up his empty hands and said, "Sorry, today's broth is sold out." People didn't understand: wasn't there still dough? He added, "I still have dough, but without broth I can't make noodle soup."

Some people sighed. Someone said, "I've been in line for half an hour!" The master said, "I started the broth last night. First you have to pick good bones, then you cook them all night. That's why there's only one pot a day."

They couldn't get any noodles now, but many people still didn't leave. They looked at the empty pot in the shop. A little steam still rose from it as it slowly cooled. A few young people took pictures and said, "Let's come earlier tomorrow!"

The master took a pen and wrote tomorrow's opening time on the door, then read it over once more. He turned around and bowed deeply to the customers outside. The girl said, "He does this every day."

It was now full daylight. The sun had just come up and the street was getting busy, but the noodle shop had closed its door. There was still plenty of flour on the counter, but there was no broth left in the pot.

The door stayed shut. At the street corner, someone stopped to read the time written on the door. An old man passing by put down his bag and sat against the wall to rest. Two more people walked over. The sun climbed higher and higher, and a short new line began to form at the door. Everyone in it wanted to get the first bowl of noodles tomorrow.