Raising prices was impossible; the only option was to cut costs.
One method was to reduce the amount of radishes and chives used. However, firstly, these two ingredients cost next to nothing, so reducing the quantity would not yield much savings for Ning He, and secondly, it would noticeably affect the flavor of the oil lamp cakes.
The original pricing was already not cheap, and if the flavor failed to stand out, she feared sales would plummet.
The second method was to keep the recipe unchanged but shrink the size. Currently, Ning He used a frying ladle as a mold; once a lamp cake was fried, it was about the size of an adult man’s fist and very filling.
Shrinking the size still carried the risk of impacting sales, but it would preserve the flavor and also silence any complaints from the other stall owners.
Ning He had already downloaded and read the Beiluogu City Vendor Management Regulations, which included a clause:
If seventy percent or more of the members within a market cluster raised opinions regarding a specific merchant concerning rectification, relocation, inspections, or similar matters, that merchant must accept and enforce the relevant requirements.
This showed that the fried skewer uncle and the others were not speaking without cause, nor were they deliberately making things difficult out of jealousy. If she incurred public anger, it was entirely possible that the other merchants would jointly demand her rectification.
Rectification was one thing, but what if they investigated her stall and exposed the black mud? How would she ever complete her system tasks then?
Damn it, why did it feel like this black mud was causing her more trouble than benefits?
Ning He felt a bit blocked in her chest, casually grabbed a washed tomato, and took a bite.
The sweet, sour, and abundant juices flowed down her throat into her chest, making her breath a little smoother, and then she remembered something else.
She could sell vegetables too!
According to the news she had gathered at the secondhand market over the past two days, every household in Beiluogu City used plastic containers to try and grow some hydroponic vegetables to supplement their daily vitamins and cut down on expenses.
Using this method might whitewash her own vegetables, making it much less suspicious when she went out to sell them.
However, that bed of black mud was already fully planted, and the radishes and chives had to stay, so she had to find a way to utilize the remaining black mud within the limited space of the loft.
Ning He thought about it all night, and early the next morning she went to the secondhand market, hunted down a pile of plastic bottles, plastic buckets, plastic boxes, and plastic crates, and pushed them home in a handcart.
Upon getting home, she transplanted a portion of the vegetables into these plastic containers, placing them in conspicuous spots by the window, while moving some sun-loving ones directly to the doorway. This way, anyone passing by her house could see them, serving as her eyewitnesses.
As for the black mud piled in the corner of the loft, Ning He packed them into several plastic crates. These crates had fist-sized gaps all over their frames, and by stuffing seeds into these gaps, she solved the problem of insufficient floor space.
This was the method Ning He came up with after pondering for a long time, and the seeds she stuffed inside were mostly varieties with small plant shapes that were not prone to toppling.
They were primarily ordinary, high-demand varieties such as greens, cabbages, lettuce, chives, and potatoes.
These were all items sold in the market with mature hydroponic techniques, otherwise Ning He would arouse suspicion if she pulled them out.
After finishing the busywork, Ning He drank some water to rest while pondering suitable trading partners.
Given the original host’s atrocious interpersonal relationships, finding someone she trusted to conduct this kind of gray-market transaction was practically impossible.
Ning He’s ultimate target was set on the market noodle restaurant. Anyway, they were already tied together like grasshoppers on a single rope because of renting the chef’s license, so one more thing wouldn’t hurt.
At worst, she could lower her price a bit further; could the other party really remain unmoved?
Right after running her stall yesterday, she had saved nearly a thousand Prime Coins in her hand, which was enough to redeem the chef’s license. She might as well go find the other party right now and have a good chat.
Going to talk business always required bringing some sample goods.
Ning He picked out some good-looking items from the two crates of vegetables in the corner, covered them with a black bag, and put them into a plastic woven basket.
Checking the time, it was eleven-thirty, exactly the busiest time for the noodle restaurant.
Better wait until the lunch rush passed. Besides, Ning He herself was hungry, so she should fill her stomach first.
A portion of the vegetables in the crate had started to wilt because they had been harvested for too long, so Ning He picked them out, which would just happen to make an extra dish for lunch.
As a former food blogger with millions of followers, boiling vegetables in plain water was a bit indefensible. Ning He rummaged through her ingredients and decided to make a simplified version of a sour soup base.
The quality of the vegetables grown in the system’s black mud was very good. Tomatoes, for instance, were sweet and sour, and should be able to produce a decent flavor.
Ordinary households had no cooking needs and lacked kitchens in their rooms, so Ning He brought the stove from her stall cart inside, boiled water to scald the tomato skins, and chopped them into small dice. She also steamed a small potato and minced chili peppers, scallions, and garlic.
She set up the pot, added oil, first tossed in the diced tomatoes to stir-fry out the red oil and sourness, and then added the diced chilies, scallions, and garlic. After stir-frying until fragrant, she added water to boil and seasoned with salt and sugar.
Looking at this bright red tomato soup that still lacked something, Ning He finally went out to pluck a small lemon, and pinched off a bit of mint and cilantro.
Adding lemon juice and lemon slices to the slightly bland tomato soup, after absorbing the unique flavors of mint and cilantro, instantly made the sour and fragrant aroma intensely compelling.
Finally, she mashed the steamed potato into a paste and mixed it into the sour soup to increase its thickness. A bowl of rich, aromatic, and Southeast Asian-flavored hot and sour tomato soup base was complete.
Just smelling this long-absent hot and sour scent made Ning He’s mouth water.
She wiped her mouth, threw the washed vegetables into the pot, and added a handful of fresh noodles she bought that morning for three Prime Coins.
Once the vegetables and noodles were cooked, she scooped them out into the soup, carried the bowl to the table, and enjoyed it slowly.
First, she took a sip of the soup.
The moment it entered her mouth, the intense stimulation of sourness and spiciness sent a wave of dizziness from Ning He’s mouth all the way to her crown, as if she had instantly transcended to bliss. After a good while, the flavor gradually faded, followed by the intense impact of the mint and cilantro aromas, lingering between her teeth with an endless aftertaste.
It was hot, sour, delicious, moderately salty and sweet, and carried a unique fresh fragrance of lemon and mint.
This simplified sour soup lacked many compound seasonings compared to her past life, but for Ning He, whose palate had been bland for half a month, it was an absolute delicacy with a top-tier impact.
How would it be if she took it out to sell?
As soon as this thought arose, Ning He dismissed it.
Even three or four-wen lamp cakes had a limited audience; a bowl of this sour soup noodles would have to sell for at least ten Prime Coins, which was enough to buy two eggs—who would shell out the money?
If the pricing was too low, it would attract the attention of others, and if the system’s black mud were exposed, the losses would outweigh the gains.
Never mind, she would wait until she could set up a stall in the Third Ring.
The residents of the Third Ring had a higher income bracket, and there would definitely be more people willing to spend money.
However, when she selected her stall location last time, she had already browsed all the market clusters in the Third Ring. They were all full, and some places even required waiting in line for a spot; she didn’t know when she would have the opportunity to grab a location.
This problem could not be rushed.
Putting aside these thoughts, Ning He concentrated on enjoying her food.
It was just a little regrettable.
Such a good soup base would be amazing paired with seafood, cooked in a hotpot, braised with chicken feet, or made into raw marinated dishes!
Using it for noodles was still a waste!
Finishing the soup and noodles, Ning He slumped contentedly in her chair, not wanting to move at all. Finally, she managed to raise a hand, grabbed the remote control, and turned on the television.
Living in the apocalypse was bitter, and having nothing good to eat was even more bitter. Finding joy amidst suffering required some other form of entertainment, and television counted as one.
The film and television industry in Beiluogu City was underdeveloped; to be precise, apart from a few amateurs shooting short videos for self-amusement, it was virtually nonexistent. Aside from broadcasting some pre-apocalyptic classic works, television stations mostly imported programs and films from other cities in the Alliance.
When Ning He had nothing to do, she would also watch to pass the time.
Switching casually to the music channel, Ning He closed her eyes.
After enjoying fine food, enjoying some music as well.
Life didn’t seem so bad after all.
Ning He enjoyed the coziness for a moment when the music in her ears suddenly stopped abruptly. After a few seconds of silence, a calm and solemn voice came from the television.
“…Now broadcasting an urgent announcement.”
“According to confirmation by the Meteorological Bureau, at eleven o’clock tonight, a strong thermal air current will pass through the urban area. At that time, the maximum outdoor temperature is expected to rise to eighty degrees Celsius, lasting for three to five days. The Municipal Academy has officially issued a Level 2 early warning order. Citizens in the city, please prepare necessary supplies and orderly proceed to the refuge entrances of various districts. Relevant departments, please make preparatory work…”
“Repeating the notification, according to confirmation by the Meteorological Bureau…”
Ning He’s body stiffened, and she immediately opened her eyes to look at the television screen.
Sure enough, the screen had switched to the news broadcasting room of Beiluogu City, where a female anchor was reading the notice with a solemn expression, and red warning subtitles were scrolling at the bottom of the screen.
The fried skewer uncle and the others had just mentioned it yesterday, and today it arrived?
Eighty degrees?
Are you kidding me?
Was this going to steam her alive?
And what about her stall?
Before Ning He could sort out her thoughts, a highly piercing alarm sound echoed through the air.
Beiluogu City’s early warning system had been activated.
The extreme heat was truly coming.
Ning He was stunned for a full minute. When she snapped back to her senses, she sprang up from her chair, ran to the bed in a few strides, and dragged a large box out from underneath.
The box was packed full.
A sleeping bag, a large bag of compressed food powder, several bottles of water, a bag of toiletries, a cell phone charger, and even a deck of cards and a small folding chair.
Every household had an emergency luggage suitcase like this, ready to be grabbed and walked away with in any situation.
Ning He’s tensed nerves relaxed slightly, but her brows twisted back into a knot.
The extreme heat would last for five days, meaning she only had two days to scrape together the academy deposit—the time was far too tight.
Moreover, wouldn’t her whole room of vegetables be unable to be preserved?
If that really happened, the losses would be too heavy.
Ning He steadied her mind, dragged the box out to wipe off the dust, and quickly thought in her mind.
There were still several hours before the heat wave arrived.
According to convention, within six hours after the citywide alarm sounded, everyone had to enter the shelters. She still had time to think of a way.
Ning He stood up and looked out the window.
At this hour, most people in the residential area were still at work, and the children were at school; everywhere was quiet, and nothing unusual could be seen.
Ning He decided to go to the market to check out the situation.
Without further ado, she immediately locked her door and set off.