Ding Sisi watched as her father eagerly picked up several slices of Water Boiled Pork Slices, devouring them with large mouthfuls of rice, too preoccupied to even speak. She couldn't help but chuckle.
Ding Sisi placed a piece of Crispy Ribs into Ding Jianjun's bowl. "Dad, don't just focus on that one dish. There's a whole table of food."
Seeing his daughter like this, Ding Jianjun thought she had truly grown up and become more considerate. However, he still preferred hearty dishes like Water Boiled Pork Slices, while his wife and child enjoyed fried foods more. Although he felt the other dishes were somewhat distracting him from his favorite, he still popped the rib into his mouth.
The moment his teeth sank in, he immediately sensed something different.
His jaw moved in disbelief. The crispy exterior and tender interior, the numbing-spicy and savory flavor—it was completely different from the Crispy Ribs he remembered.
He recalled how tough it used to be to bite through a piece, especially after it had cooled down. The skin would become chewy and rubbery, requiring considerable effort to chew, and the greasy fat from the ribs would make him feel overwhelmed after just a few pieces.
This Crispy Ribs, however, was nothing like that.
"Dad, is it good?"
Ding Jianjun nodded seriously. "It's delicious. Your mom's cooking skills are getting better and better."
Ding Jianjun was always polite at home and never hesitated to praise his wife and child. But as soon as he said this, Ding Sisi covered her mouth and laughed, while Huang Yun shot him a reproachful look.
Ding Jianjun quickly caught on. Had he said something wrong?
"Did Sister Xinran make these ribs?"
Ding Sisi clapped her hands. "Dad, you guessed right!"
"Then, Dad, guess which dishes Aunt Song made?"
Ding Jianjun smiled. When he had returned home earlier, he had seen Huang Yun and Song Xinran making Water Boiled Pork Slices in the kitchen. Without hesitation, he said, "The Water Boiled Pork Slices and the Crispy Ribs."
Ding Sisi shook her head with a sly grin. "There's more, Dad. Guess again."
Ding Jianjun was happy to play along with his daughter's game. He took a bite of each dish, starting with the Liangban Ji (Cold Chicken Salad).
Hmm, the flavor was familiar. His wife's cooking hadn't changed much.
Next, he tried a piece of the numbing-spicy fish slices. The fish was a bit tough, just like always.
…
After tasting everything, he finally took a bite of the twice-cooked pork. The moment it entered his mouth, Ding Jianjun knew it was extraordinary!
The pork skin was chewy and elastic, the fatty parts were fragrant and smooth, the lean meat was firm yet tender, and the green garlic shoots were crisp and refreshing. The overall flavor was savory and delicious, with a subtle hint of sweetness lingering after each bite.
Having eaten too many cafeteria dishes with all sorts of strange sweet flavors, Ding Jianjun had become extremely sensitive to and disgusted by sweetness in food. Yet, miraculously, the subtle sweetness in this twice-cooked pork felt perfectly balanced, creating a rich and layered experience.
Unable to resist, he took another bite, scooping it up with rice and shoveling it into his mouth.
Nothing beats hometown dishes when it comes to pairing with rice!
"Haha." Ding Sisi couldn't hold back her laughter at the sight. "Dad, even though you didn't say anything, I already know your answer!"
Sometimes, actions speak louder than words.
Huang Yun also laughed but still found it hard to believe. Was the gap between her cooking and Xinran's really that obvious?
She took a bite of the numbing-spicy fish slices, then tried a piece of the Water Boiled Pork Slices.
Immediately, she conceded defeat.
It dawned on her how different people could be. How could she have forgotten that after eating Bobo Chicken last time, she had little appetite for several meals? Ding Sisi had repeatedly suggested, "Mom, why don't we ask Aunt Song to buy some Bobo Chicken?"
Of course, Huang Yun refused. She knew Song Xinran's temperament—she would never accept payment, yet Huang Yun would feel embarrassed not paying.
Looking at the table full of dishes, Huang Yun could already predict the outcome: the three dishes made by Xinran would be completely finished, while the others would likely take several meals to finish. But they couldn't let anything go to waste—meat was so expensive nowadays.
Everyone enjoyed the meal immensely. Ding Jianjun alone ate four bowls of rice, finally pouring the broth from the Water Boiled Pork Slices over his white rice and finishing every last bit.
Seeing the clean plates, Huang Yun realized she hadn't thought far enough ahead.
"Sister Yun, you've made a really good friend," Ding Jianjun remarked while washing dishes after the meal. "She has such a good personality, her children are well-behaved, and her cooking is excellent too!"
Huang Yun chided him playfully, "I bet the last part is what really matters to you."
Ding Jianjun chuckled sheepishly, "I'm just being honest. It's just a pity…"
She was a neighbor and friend—if she were his own sister, it would be much easier to invite her over for meals and cooking.
Huang Yun said, "Although I've only known Xinran for a few days, it feels like we've been friends forever."
Ding Jianjun, who often read books, immediately responded, "That's what they call 'feeling like old friends at first sight.'"
Huang Yun nodded repeatedly, "Yes, exactly! Xinran is currently selling Bobo Chicken at the entrance of Third Middle School. Her Bobo Chicken tastes wonderful too, it's just…"
Huang Yun briefly explained Song Xinran's family situation to Ding Jianjun. When she mentioned that Xinran said her husband was serving in the military, Ding Jianjun nodded seriously, "This is a small matter. I'll go check out her stall when it's busy. Your friend seems good-natured and quite clever."
Ding Jianjun naturally understood that in smaller communities, one needed to know how to build momentum for themselves.
Huang Yun was pleased, "Alright, I'll leave this to you then."
Returning home, Song Xinran exclaimed, "Sister Yun's home is so nice."
Song Xinwen reported, "Xinran, you weren't there today, but business was so good I could barely keep up! When those students came, they all asked me, 'Where's the other aunt?' We've only been set up for a few days, and they already recognize us. They're quite young but can chat with me for quite a while—completely different from the kids in our village. So well-behaved!"
Song Xinwen was full of emotions. When Song Xinran said she was going to Huang Yun's house to help cook and asked her to sell Bobo Chicken alone today, Song Xinwen had felt somewhat nervous.
Although she had been helping with sales for several days, Xinran was always in charge while she just helped with packaging. Suddenly having to manage everything herself was daunting.
But thinking it was her sister's trust in her, and realizing you never know until you try, she agreed without hesitation.
As it turned out, it wasn't as difficult as she imagined. Song Xinwen now had endless things to talk about.
Yet Song Xinran kept musing, "Sister Yun's home is really wonderful."
Song Xinwen excitedly declared, "This stall business is doable!"
Song Xinran murmured to herself, "…If only we had one like that."
Song Xinwen finally caught on and looked at her, "We have everything we need at home already."
Song Xinran's eyes lit up, "Sis, I want to install a liquefied gas tank too! We already have a gas stove at home!"
Song Xinwen was also familiar with the concept of canned liquefied gas and immediately shook her head upon hearing this. "Why waste money installing that? Don't we already have a honeycomb briquette stove?"
Song Xinran said, "The honeycomb briquette stove isn't suitable for stir-frying."
"How is it not suitable? The dishes you cook with it still taste delicious. A canister of liquefied gas costs forty or fifty yuan and gets used up quickly, while a single honeycomb briquette only costs ten cents."
Song Xinran thought to herself that although honeycomb briquettes were cheap, the flame couldn't be adjusted, and lighting it was always a hassle. With the honeycomb briquette stove, she couldn't prepare dishes like stir-fries because the heat was too low.
After using the gas stove at Huang Yun's house today, she finally recaptured a bit of the stir-frying sensation from her previous life.
"Xiao Yu, come here." Song Xinran called the child over.
Song Yu obediently walked up to her, looked up, and called out, "Mom."
Song Xinran smiled warmly and kindly. "Xiao Yu, was the food at Aunt Huang's house delicious today?"
Song Yu nodded. "It was very delicious."
Song Xinran asked again, "Then, was the stir-fried pork lungs I made on the day I returned to your aunt's house delicious?"
As if recalling the taste, Song Yu's eyes lit up. It was the first time he had ever tasted something so delicious, and it was also the first time someone had shown him favoritism, granting him the privilege of "tasting the dish first." Such an experience was enough for a child to remember for a long time. He nodded vigorously. "It was delicious!"
Song Xinran patted the child's head. "We mustn't let our child suffer, no matter how hard things are. Now that we've earned some money, it's time to enjoy life. I'll go ask Aunt Huang right away where she bought hers."
Song Yu didn't fully understand this statement, mainly because the first part was unclear. But in his heart, whatever his mother said couldn't be wrong. The child nodded vaguely. "Okay."
Song Xinran curved her lips into a smile and said to Song Xinwen, "Sis, Xiao Yu is at an age where he's growing rapidly. Installing a liquefied gas canister would be more convenient. I'll go ask Sister Yun about it. You two rest at home for a while."
With that, Song Xinran strode out. Song Xinwen called out "Hey, hey!" several times but ultimately only said, "You really do things in such a rush."
In Song Xinwen's view, since they had finally earned some money, they should save it. That way, if anything happened in the future, they would have funds to rely on. It was far too early to be thinking about enjoying life.
But then she thought about how Song Xinran had made absolutely correct decisions regarding the street stall business and decided not to say anything. Looking back at her own life before, it hadn't been particularly satisfying. Perhaps it was time to change her perspective.
Song Xinran learned the steps for installing canned liquefied gas from Huang Yun and concluded that it was simple—just pay the money.
Song Xinran calculated the money she had on hand.
These past few days of running the stall had brought in a gross profit of around a hundred yuan per day. Over four days, she had earned about four hundred yuan. This profit sounded almost shocking, especially since daily odd jobs in town only paid about ten yuan.
However, Song Xinran had also spent quite a bit of money recently. First, she bought two sets of new clothes and new shoes for Song Yu.
The weather was gradually getting colder. Although it had been sunny these past few days with temperatures around twenty degrees during the day, and Song Yu's old clothes were still wearable, once it rained, the temperature would drop sharply. By then, it would be too rushed to buy clothes and shoes.
Secondly, Song Xinran also bought new clothes for herself. The original owner's clothes were too old, especially the winter wear, which had been through who knows how many winters and were already stiff and no longer warm.
Song Xinran was not one to shortchange her own people, and she also knew that as the main breadwinner in the family now, it was even more important to take good care of her health.
Overall, Song Xinran still had just over a thousand yuan left in hand. The entire process of installing a liquefied gas tank would cost around two hundred yuan, with the bulk being the deposit for the tank itself, which was 150 yuan.
Their family currently had three members, and with the additional use for their street food stall, they consumed about 1.5 tanks of gas per month. A tank of liquefied gas now cost 45 yuan, averaging out to just 1.5 yuan per day.
After all, they were already using over ten honeycomb briquettes every day. Calculated this way, the cost difference between using honeycomb briquettes and liquefied gas was minimal.
The reason most people still opted for honeycomb briquettes was that gas stoves were too expensive and could only be purchased in the county town. The journey from their town to the county was over twenty kilometers, and taking the bus would take more than an hour.
After doing the math, Song Xinran went to the town's liquefied gas station early the next morning, paid the fees, and the station arranged for a tricycle and an installation technician to accompany her back home.
The installation process was straightforward. The house Song Xinran currently lived in already had a gas stove, so the technician didn't even need to drill any holes. In no time, the installation was complete. In the end, Song Xinran paid 40 yuan, which included the installation fee and the cost of materials like the flexible hose.
Song Xinwen took one look and marveled, "So this is the installed gas stove? How do you use it?"
Song Xinran turned the valve on the liquefied gas tank and ignited the gas stove. With a "click," a lively blue flame immediately leaped up on the stove.
Song Xinwen's eyes widened. "That's it?"
Song Xinran smiled and demonstrated by turning the flame down and then up before finally shutting it off. "Yes, that's it."
"This is so convenient!" Song Xinwen exclaimed in amazement.
Starting a fire back in their hometown was a hassle. First, you had to lay down easily combustible straw as a base. Once it caught fire, you added some dry wood, and then placed more flammable kindling on top. Even after everything was lit, you had to keep a constant watch to prevent the fire from dying out or the wood from falling.
Song Xinwen still remembered helping the adults light the fire as a child. If she accidentally let it go out, she would be scolded for a while. Back then, she thought lighting a fire was such a tedious task.
She never imagined there would come a day when you didn't need someone to tend the fire, when you could just use liquefied gas and even adjust the flame size. The effect was the same, but it was so much more convenient!
"So, Sis, was this money well spent?" Song Xinran asked with a smile.
Song Xinwen replied, "Absolutely!"
Feeling pleased, Song Xinran immediately set about preparing a meal. She went out and bought some pork liver and some green vegetables.
Back home, Song Xinwen helped out, and in no time, the ingredients were prepped.
Song Xinran heated oil in the pot. When the oil reached the right temperature, she added the marinated pork liver and quickly stir-fried it until it changed color. Then she added other seasonings, adjusted the flavor, and thickened the sauce with starch. In no time, the dish was ready.
The freshly cooked stir-fried pork liver had a bright red hue, with green peppers, onions, and wood ear mushrooms sprinkled throughout, creating a vibrant mix of red and green. The pork liver slices were coated in a glossy sauce, shimmering temptingly. Even without tasting it, one could tell how tender and delicious the liver must be.
Pork liver was a great ingredient, packed with iron. Most people nowadays suffered from anemia, making it the perfect food to eat.
The reason Song Xinran hadn't cooked this dish before was that their home didn't have a suitable stove. Pork liver was best suited for quick stir-frying, and while the honeycomb briquette stove was fine for boiling or stewing, it was hardly adequate for anything else.
After that, Song Xinran made another dish of garlic stir-fried greens. The vibrant green vegetables, rich with the aroma of garlic, were refreshing and delicious.
The final simple egg drop soup completed the meal—two dishes and one soup on the table. Though they were simple home-style dishes, the enticing aroma made everyone eager to pick up their chopsticks.
After eating, Song Xinwen couldn’t help but exclaim, “This thing is really useful. Honeycomb coal may be cheap, but it’s not great for cooking…”
Song Xinran smiled. “Actually, if you calculate it carefully, using liquefied gas isn’t much more expensive.”
She broke down the costs for Song Xinwen, who was astonished and kept marveling at how times were progressing.
When making Bobo Chicken, Song Xinran still used honeycomb coal, as she had bought quite a bit earlier and didn’t want to waste it.
However, after using the gas stove, she found the fire from the coal too weak and the cooking too slow—it took half an hour just to boil a pot of water.
Business remained as good as ever these past two days. Since Song Xinran hadn’t come yesterday, some students specifically came to ask, “Auntie, where were you yesterday?”
Song Xinran smiled and said she had visited a friend’s house.
“That’s a relief,” one girl said, patting her chest. “I was afraid you didn’t want to do this anymore. Where else would I go to eat Bobo Chicken?”
“Exactly!” another chimed in. “I bought Bobo Chicken to take home, and after my mom tried it, she gave me two extra yuan the next day to buy more. Haha!”
The students’ chatter was always so amusing, and Song Xinran enjoyed chatting with them.
Just before the school bell was about to ring, everyone hurried back, and the school gate returned to quiet, leaving only some scattered trash behind. Song Yu quickly ran out, crouched down with a plastic bag in hand, and meticulously picked up every piece of garbage.
Though young, he was exceptionally diligent, picking up even the tiniest scraps. As a result, their spot was always the cleanest after packing up.
At that moment, a lean, disheveled man in his forties, holding a stick and wearing a red armband labeled “Street Patrol” on his right arm, approached.
Crossing his arms and lifting his chin, the man scanned the stalls at the school gate before his gaze fixed directly on the Bobo Chicken stall. He strode straight over.
The man walked up to Song Yu, who was picking up trash, and stepped on a bamboo skewer. Song Yu, who had been about to pick it up, looked up at the man and said in a childish voice, “Uncle, you’re stepping on my trash.”
After helping out at the stall for a few days, Song Yu had grown bolder. In the past, he wouldn’t have dared to speak to strangers and would have just waited silently if someone stepped on his things.
Lai Zhimin looked down and snorted, “Where did this kid come from? Get lost!”
Song Yu pursed his lips, stood up, and ran to Song Xinran’s side.
Song Xinran, who had been clearing the table, looked up upon hearing this.
She saw a man standing arrogantly in front of the stall, declaring, “You’re not allowed to set up a stall here!”
Song Xinwen, who had been moving the ceramic pot, shouted back immediately, “Who are you? Is this your territory? How dare you tell us we can’t set up a stall!”
Xinran had mentioned from the start that setting up stalls here was allowed. They had been operating for several days without any issues. This man, with his shifty eyes, clearly looked like no good person.
Lai Zhimin tugged at his armband and raised his chin. "Who am I? A street management officer! You've made a mess of this place with your stall. I've received complaints. Pack up your things immediately and don't ever set up here again!"
Song Xinwen felt a bit intimidated just hearing his title. Glancing at his armband, she seemed to shrink in stature. Since ancient times, commoners don't fight with officials, especially since they had just arrived in town and were unfamiliar with the place.
Still, she muttered, "Who knows if you're real or fake? Don't think wearing a badge makes you an official."
Lai Zhimin raised an eyebrow and stepped closer, reaching for Song Xinwen's arm. "Come with me to the Urban Management Bureau. I'll show you whether I'm real or not!"
He had seen plenty of people like this—full of bluster at first, then wilting at the mention of his authority, finally muttering a few words. Typical commoners, always afraid of trouble.
Lai Zhimin snorted inwardly. It wasn't wasted money buying this uniform and badge. Ordinary people shrank at the sight of it, let alone these two women.
What were two women doing setting up a stall anyway? They should be at home washing clothes, cooking meals, looking after children, and keeping their men satisfied.
"Let go." Song Xinran stepped forward, her voice cold and sharp. "You're a street management officer, right?"
Her tone was calm yet severe, carrying a note of challenge. Lai Zhimin turned and immediately recognized her as the one Old Yang said sold Bobo Chicken. Irritation rose within him. How dare a mere street vendor not only show no fear upon seeing urban management but also adopt such an attitude?
"No vending allowed here. If you don't leave, I'll overturn your stall!" Lai Zhimin's eyebrows shot up, his tone threatening, his manner arrogant and domineering.
Song Xinwen seized on what she saw as a loophole in his words, immediately pointing at other stall owners and shouting, "If vending isn't allowed, why are they all here?"
Song Xinran tried to stop her but was too late. It was clear this man was specifically targeting them. A street management officer—to put it nicely, he was with the Urban Management Bureau, but anyone with slight understanding of the system knew he was just a temporary worker or outsourced personnel.
By dragging other stall owners into this, they'd inevitably earn their resentment.
Sure enough, the fried skewers stall owner nearby spoke with sarcasm, "We're different. We've been here for years. We're legitimate and have paid sanitation fees."
Lai Zhimin snorted lightly. "Hear that?"
Song Xinwen immediately wanted to say they could pay sanitation fees too.
But this time Song Xinran stopped her in time. Ignoring the other stall owners, she confronted Lai Zhimin directly. "Which department of the Urban Management Bureau are you from? Who's your superior? Which regulation states vending isn't allowed here? Not to mention we clean the ground spotless when we leave. Do you, as urban management, even have the authority to collect sanitation fees? Don't drag my sister to the bureau. Take me instead. I want to ask clearly whether your bureau is overreaching. If fees are to be collected, it should be done by community organizations. What you're doing is nothing but corruption."
"Don't wait around here either. Let's go right now!"
With that, Song Xinran threw off her apron, strode out with several steps, back straight, not showing the slightest hint of stage fright.
Lai Zhimin was completely baffled by this series of questions. Seeing Song Xinran's expression showed not a trace of fear, he instantly felt his pride wounded. He stomped his baton on the ground with a loud thud and shouted hoarsely, "Let's go! You're quite something, aren't you? We'll see whose side the police take when we get to the station!"
Having never encountered anyone like Song Xinran before, Lai Zhimin felt somewhat panicked and hastily brought up the police station as a threat.
Ordinary people would typically shrink in fear at the mention of the police, terrified they might have committed some offense—especially since common folks often believed all government officials were in cahoots. Whether urban management officers or police, they were all seen as acquaintances who'd immediately detain anyone who entered the station.
He assumed this woman before him, being a widow, would certainly not dare to go.
But Song Xinran only sneered coldly, immediately seeing through Lai Zhimin's outward fierceness and inner cowardice: "City Administration Bureau and Police Department—which one are you really from? These two aren't even the same department. For a temporary worker, you sure have a lot of authority."
"Fine, you want to go to the police station? Let's go right now. We can also ask the police how many years in prison extortion gets you." Song Xinran was bluffing too. She knew that if they actually went to the police station, it would just be a lecture at most. But since this guy was trying to intimidate her, why couldn't she turn the tables on him?
Sure enough, upon hearing this, Lai Zhimin's expression changed. He was like a wild dog baring its fangs, ready to bite, only to charge headfirst and crack its skull, left sitting on the ground whimpering pitifully.
Lai Zhimin had no idea how Song Xinran had found out about his temporary worker status. He'd never seen a street vendor so bold! Could she have someone backing her?
But Old Yang had clearly told him: this Bobo Chicken stall had great business and was run by just two widows. All he had to do was flash his badge—no need to even speak—and they'd hand over the sanitation fee, and not just one yuan a day, but several times that amount.
Seeing the potential profit, Lai Zhimin had come to squeeze this easy target. Who knew this "soft persimmon" would be harder than a stinky rock in a latrine? One step on it nearly made him twist his ankle.
There weren't many people around, mostly other street vendors who had some acquaintance with Lai Zhimin. Without even looking, he knew how many were waiting to see him make a fool of himself.
Just these two widows in front of him—surely they couldn't beat him up?
Gritting his teeth, Lai Zhimin shouted: "What do you widows know? Going to the police station? I say who's in charge here! Get lost now, or I'll flip your damn stall!"
But Song Xinran wasn't the least bit afraid. She thought to herself: he knows he's in the wrong and is just making a scene now. At times like this, people act tough but are actually all bluster—like an overinflated balloon that pops at the slightest touch.
Still, she didn't plan to confront him directly. He already knew she wasn't easy to bully and probably wouldn't cause trouble again. She'd be setting up her stall here for a long time, and while he was a scoundrel with nothing to lose, there was no way she was paying any sanitation fee.
Just as Song Xinran was about to speak, a familiar voice came from behind: "Who says you're in charge? Threatening to flip stalls—which department are you from?"
Ding Jianjun strode over, frowning.
His voice was loud and his build imposing—clearly not someone to be trifled with. Seeing him, Lai Zhimin's already deflated bravado shrank further, but he still stiffened his neck and repeated his baseless bluster: "Where'd you come from? City Administration is handling business here—get lost!"
When people know they're in the wrong, they raise their voices. Ding Jianjun clearly understood this too and said sternly: "You're with City Administration? I happen to have an ex-soldier buddy working there. Let's go ask together if City Administration has the right to flip stalls!"
Hearing this, Lai Zhimin panicked: "You… you…"
Ding Jianjun said with a dark expression: "This sister's husband is serving in the military, defending our country, while his wife gets bullied by City Administration back home? I'm going to take this higher up—since when is this acceptable!"
He had the unmistakable bearing of a military man, his words ringing with authority. Lai Zhimin was stunned into silence for a long moment.
Ding Jianjun had already grabbed the man’s arm, insisting on dragging him to the Urban Management Bureau: "Let’s go ask right now! Everyone here can bear witness—don’t think you can bully my sister just because her husband isn’t home!"
None of the nearby stall vendors spoke up, especially the couple running the fried skewers stall, who kept their heads down and busied themselves with their work, pretending not to hear.
Lai Zhimin was now thoroughly panicked. The man gripping his arm was incredibly strong, his hand like an iron clamp. No matter how hard Lai struggled, he couldn’t break free. Fearing that a trip to the Urban Management Bureau might cost him his temporary job, he hastily explained, "No bullying! It’s a misunderstanding!"
"I just received a report that a new stall here was dirtying the area, so I came to check."
Song Yu chimed in softly, "It’s not dirty. I cleaned it up."
Lai Zhimin hurriedly agreed, "It’s not dirty! I made a mistake! I’ll leave right away!"
"Leave?" Ding Jianjun’s eyes were sharp, his tone resolute. "First, we’re going to the Urban Management Bureau!"
His words were stern and principled, but he loosened his grip slightly.
Seizing the opportunity, Lai Zhimin broke free and dashed off like a streak of smoke, not forgetting to shoot a glare at the fried skewers stall owner.
Song Xinran glanced around. Everyone was calmly tidying up, acting as if nothing had happened. Deliberately, she said, "Brother-in-law, thank you so much for today."
Ding Jianjun’s expression remained serious as he replied in a low voice, "No need for thanks, little sister. Chun Jun and I were close comrades in the army, and he specifically asked me to look out for you."
Song Xinran intentionally asked Ding Jianjun about their time in the military, and he shared some trivial anecdotes. After they finished packing up, he even helped them carry the table back.
As soon as they left, the fried skewers stall owner, Yang Changhai, immediately changed his expression. "Wife, do you think Old Lai will come back to cause trouble for us?"The boss lady, Xiong Li, curled her lips into a hard, straight line and spat out, "Hah!" How dare he come after us? If I hadn’t overheard, I wouldn’t have known he’s just a temporary worker—and he still had the nerve to collect sanitation fees!"
Yang Changhai fretted, "Old Lai is a scoundrel with nothing to lose, but we still have a stall to run!"
"Look at how spineless you are! After this humiliation, Old Lai probably won’t dare show his face around here again. It’s not like ours is the only stall in town."
Yang Changhai thought it over and nodded. "You’re right. This might even be for the better—we’ll save 30 yuan a month on sanitation fees."
Xiong Li grumbled, "I’ve never been happy about paying that money anyway. It’s not like Lai Zhimin cleans up the trash himself—why should we give him the money?"
After muttering between themselves for a while, Yang Changhai suddenly said, "But what do we do now? This Bobo Chicken stall has only been here a week, and when I calculated our profits yesterday, they’ve dropped by almost half!"
There was no way to drive the Bobo Chicken stall away now—Old Lai was out of the picture—but they couldn’t just sit back and do nothing.
Xiong Li thought for a moment, then gritted her teeth. "We’ll launch some promotions. If we lower our prices, those broke students will have no reason not to come! We’ll squeeze that Bobo Chicken stall out!"
"So what if her husband is in the military? They can’t stop us from running promotions, can they?"
Yang Changhai nodded. "Alright, let’s do it!"
Xiong Li added, "Buy some cheap Recombined Frozen Meat skewers. Even at low prices, we can still make a profit!"
Yang Changhai quickly nodded in agreement, saying, "We've been in this business for years—how can we let some newcomer outdo us!"
Yang Changhai leaned closer to Xiong Li, grinning from ear to ear, "Honey, your mind is just so sharp!"
Xiong Li tapped his head lightly, "Since you know that, why don’t you learn more from it!"