ryethenovel Chapter 107 What if he earned this money?
Chapter 107 What if he earned this money?
Old Liu sat on a bench, his hands, covered in cracks, digging into his knees.
Extremely anxious.
Directly in front of him, a large stainless steel wok that had been used for more than ten years was placed on the stove.
The water in the pot was bubbling and churning, with huge bubbles rising to the surface, and white steam was rising onto his wrinkled and tired face.
This pot of water has boiled for the third time today.
Old Liu didn't reach for the dough on the table, nor did he touch the strainer next to him.
He stared blankly at the rising steam, his right hand reaching into his pocket and gripping a hard little paper packet tightly.
"Catch, catch, catch..."
The cheerful chirping of birds drifted in from the closed back window.
Old Liu's brows furrowed suddenly.
He stood up somewhat irritably, strode to the window, and slammed the old wooden window shut with a loud bang.
"Scream, scream, scream my ass," Old Liu muttered, his voice hoarse.
He walked back to the stove, looked at the empty pot of boiling water, and felt waves of acid reflux in his stomach.
These past few days, his noodle shop has been as deserted as a morgue at lunchtime.
For two whole hours today, apart from Old Zhang, who sells dried goods next door, coming over to borrow a light, not a single customer came to the shop.
Old Liu closed his eyes, and the scene from yesterday noon involuntarily surfaced in his mind.
Yesterday at the same time, Old Liu was anxiously waiting at the door.
When he finally saw a young man in a suit and carrying a briefcase push open the door, Old Liu jumped up, vigorously wiping his hands on his apron, and plastering the most fawning and enthusiastic smile he had ever had on his face.
"Want some noodles? Young man, try my handmade beef noodles. The broth has been simmering all night."
But the young man didn't even glance at the menu on the wall. He just waved his hand anxiously and brought his phone screen closer to Old Liu's eyes.
"Uncle, I don't eat noodles. I need to ask you something. How do I get to that 'Human Fireworks' restaurant?"
Is that the restaurant that's all the rage online located in this alley?
Old Liu's smile froze on his face.
His outstretched hand paused in mid-air for a full three seconds before finally lifting somewhat mechanically and pointing into the depths of the alley.
"Go in for 300 meters, the house with the lantern hanging at the entrance is it."
"Thanks," the young man said, then turned and ran off, shouting into the phone as he went.
"Found it! It's inside, hurry up and get in line!"
The young man's footsteps were so light and quick as they left, but when they reached Old Liu's ears, they made his chest feel heavy.
Old Liu opened his eyes and gave a self-deprecating bitter laugh.
He walked to the cashier and pulled open the drawer that was a bit stuck.
Inside lay three five-yuan bills and a few coins.
This is his total revenue for the past two days.
Fifteen yuan.
Old Liu's hand trembled violently. He clutched the few small bills tightly in his hand, then slowly put them back.
He remembered the form stamped with a red seal, and the numbers that kept changing every day. A wave of near-desperate suffocation washed over him again.
He usually accepts that business is a little slow.
At worst, I'll just have to stay up for two more hours every day; it'll just be a bit tougher.
But why this particular time?
Why did such an incredibly powerful shop open deep in the alley just when he needed money the most and was at his lowest point?
Before "Human Fireworks" opened, many diners were willing to go into his noodle shop.
His hand-pulled noodles are generous in portion and have a genuine flavor. He has been making them on this street for over a decade and has always had many repeat customers.
If it weren't for the "human touch," how could it be that we can't even sell a single bowl now?
"They forced me into this... You're the ones who won't let me live..."
Old Liu's eyes gradually darkened.
The wicked thought that had been lingering in his mind since this morning now completely took over his brain.
The clock on the wall ticked away, and the hands finally pointed to noon.
Old Liu took a deep breath, then suddenly ripped off his apron and threw it haphazardly onto the cutting board.
He walked to the stove and turned off the gas valve with a "snap".
The boiling water gradually calmed down.
Old Liu pulled a small black plastic bag from under the cashier, carefully put the paper package from his pocket into it, and then clenched it tightly in his hand.
He walked to the door, grabbed the heavy roller shutter, and pulled it down with both arms.
"Clang—!"
Old Liu locked the door, turned around, lowered his head, and strode towards the "human touch" deep in the alley.
When the wooden door of "Human Fireworks" is pushed open, a rich aroma of meat wafts out, enough to melt your bones.
Old Liu was completely stunned.
I paused for half a second at the door.
"Welcome! Are you there, sir? Please come in!"
Su Chen was holding a clean rag and jogged over to meet him.
The sweat on his face glistened under the warm yellow light, and his apron was stained with a few oil marks. He exuded a comfortable and energetic aura.
Looking at Su Chen's young, unguarded smiling face, Old Liu subconsciously hid the black plastic bag in his hand behind his back.
"I...I'm here to have a meal." Old Liu's voice was a little dry.
"Alright! Today we only have one main dish, braised pork belly with secret recipe, 58 yuan a serving, all-you-can-eat rice."
As Su Chen spoke, he pointed to the cashier with practiced ease, "Uncle, we pay first and then eat here. Would you like to scan a code or pay in cash?"
"Fifty-eight..."
Although Lao Liu had heard about the prices here from his neighbors before, he still couldn't help but twitch his lips when he heard it with his own ears.
A bowl of meat costs fifty-eight yuan.
In his noodle shop, a bowl of hand-pulled noodles with four large pieces of beef costs only fifteen yuan.
Old Liu stood there, his cloudy eyes scanning the shop.
Four people were seated at the table by the window, each with a large porcelain bowl in front of them; the two tables in the middle were also full, and even the corner seats were occupied.
Old Liu roughly counted in his mind that at this moment, there were more than twenty diners sitting in this small shop.
More than twenty people, that's more than a thousand yuan.
Old Liu's breathing instantly became somewhat heavy.
He started calculating frantically in his mind: a bowl of meat costs fifty-eight yuan. Even if this Boss Chen uses the best pork belly in the market, a pound of meat would only cost twenty yuan at most, enough to make two servings.
Including ingredients and gas, the cost of one serving will definitely not exceed fifteen yuan.
In other words, they can make a net profit of forty yuan from this bowl of meat!
If we sell a hundred servings a day, that's four thousand yuan! In a month... that's a whopping one hundred and twenty thousand yuan!
120,000.
This number was like a fire, instantly igniting Lao Liu's desire and resentment to their extreme.
His eyes began to turn red, and his fingernails gripped the black plastic bag tightly.
So much money.
If he earned that money, why would he need to sit by his hospital bedside and cry every night?
Why would anyone need to feel miserable looking at those payment reminders?