19
The Temptation of Noodles
Liu Lan had full confidence in Huang Fugui’s noodle-cooking skills but was less certain about his ability to lead Murder Mystery Games. Taking advantage of the empty store in the afternoon, she urgently trained Huang Fugui on the Game Master guidelines and also reviewed the script for “Culinary King Championship.”
After reading it, Liu Lan couldn’t help but marvel at the coincidence.
While Huang Fugui was out buying fried chicken, Liu Lan remarked to Jiang Qi, “Jiang Qi, it’s such a coincidence! The Game Master in ‘Culinary King Championship’ is also named Huang Fugui. Just now, Uncle Huang performed a segment in front of me, and he acted so well—it was as if the NPC from the script had stepped right out of it.”
Hearing this, Jiang Qi’s heart sank. He realized his oversight: from now on, any Character Cards must not use their real names; they needed aliases.
“Uncle Huang is a veteran actor from the theater troupe. Of course, he can perform simple things convincingly,” Jiang Qi said evasively, brushing off the topic.
Liu Lan was successfully fooled.
Meanwhile, Jiang Qi was pondering another matter: promotion.
The middle school students who rushed to play a live-action role-playing game right after their exams reminded Jiang Qi that students were now on vacation, and college students from out of town would soon be returning for summer break—this was the peak season for Murder Mystery Game Stores.
Spending a little on promotion now would surely yield returns.
Considering that, aside from the funds reserved for Liu Lan’s salary and emergencies, Jiang Qi’s total assets amounted to only 921 yuan, he definitely couldn’t afford to hire influencers for store visits or run ads on major group-buying platforms.
After much thought, Jiang Qi decided that traditional, cost-effective promotion methods were more reliable.
Like distributing flyers.
Coincidentally, the various inks and inkjet printers from Jiang Bing’s previously closed print shop were still stored in the Jiang family’s first-floor storage room. That 20-square-meter space was crammed with remnants of Jiang Bing’s past business ventures.
Moreover, since Jiang Bing was an illustrator by profession, designing a decent flyer using computer software wouldn’t be a problem.
Rounding it off, this promotion would cost almost nothing!
Jiang Qi immediately messaged Jiang Bing, urging her to finish designing the flyers as soon as possible.
The flyer distribution didn’t need to cover a wide area—just the surrounding neighborhoods would suffice.
“Lanlan, do you have any part-time job groups? If so, could you post a message looking for flyer distributors? 15 yuan per hour,” Jiang Qi asked, turning to Liu Lan.
Liu Lan, looking at her phone without lifting her head, replied, “You don’t need to pay 15 yuan an hour for flyer distribution. As long as it’s not midday, you can find plenty of people in part-time groups willing to work for 10 yuan an hour.”
Jiang Qi: “…”
He had underestimated modern capitalists.
Dinner, as usual, was noodles. Learning from yesterday’s lesson of not having enough noodles for the first pot, Huang Fugui prepared eight servings at once, allowing everyone to eat their fill.
Liu Lan also came prepared, bringing fermented tofu, peanuts, and pickles from home. To an outsider, it might seem like she came to work just for this meal.
While they were eating, customers arrived.
Six middle school students who had booked a Detective/Mystery Script for 6:30 PM arrived early. All boys, wearing school uniforms and quite tall, two of them even carried backpacks.
Each held some food—fried skewers, oden, roujiamo, and jianbing—clearly having bought dinner in the nearby alleys instead of going home to eat.
Obviously, it wasn’t their first time here; they recognized Liu Lan. The boy holding oden looked at Liu Lan, who was holding a bowl of noodles, and then at the others who hadn’t stopped eating. He grinned and asked, “DM sister, can we start now? One of us has to leave early, so we’d like to finish by 10:30 PM.”
“Sure,” Liu Lan said, swallowing her noodles quickly and standing up with her bowl. She walked to the script shelf and scanned it. “For a four-and-a-half-hour Detective/Mystery Script, how about ‘Three Secret Rooms’? It’s an escape room game, suitable for beginners and not too difficult.”
“Okay,” the boys agreed without objection.
“Wait for me for two minutes. Let me finish eating first. You can go upstairs and sit; I’ll be right there,” Liu Lan said, speeding up her eating. She glanced reluctantly at the peanuts on the table but resisted the urge to take more.
“It’s fine, DM sister. We’re not in that much of a hurry. Finish your noodles first,” the boy eating jianbing said understandingly.
“What drinks do you want?” the boy with oden was already eyeing the drinks in the fridge.
“I want spicy strips and chips,” the boy holding fried skewers said, indicating he could still eat more.
Liu Lan gulped down her noodles too quickly and choked.
Jiang Qi stood up and saw that her bowl had no soup left. “Do you want me to add some soup? Maybe some more noodles?” he asked.
Liu Lan nodded repeatedly.
Jiang Qi took her bowl, walked to the cooking pot, and lifted the lid. Steam and the wheaty aroma of noodles wafted out, quickly reaching the noses of the middle schoolers still choosing snacks and drinks.
Along with it came the sound of Liu Lan gulping down her noodle soup.
The middle schooler eating jianbing: ∑(°Д°)
The middle schooler who suddenly found his fried skewers unappetizing: (*_っ)
The middle schooler who inexplicably disliked his oden: ╭(╯^╰)╮
The middle schooler who originally wanted cola but now craved noodle soup: (°Д°≡°Д°)
The middle schooler who wished his roujiamo were noodles instead: (*))
The middle schooler who suddenly wanted to ask for a bowl of noodle soup: (`」∠)_
Jiang Qi, noticing the customers staring intently at his soup ladle as if they desperately wanted a bowl of noodle soup: ⊙_⊙
The seven of them stared at each other in silence.
Thud.
Liu Lan finished her soup, swallowed the last bite of noodles, wiped her mouth, put down her bowl, and radiated enthusiasm for work.
“I’m done! Hey, have you picked your snacks? If so, let’s go upstairs. Didn’t you want to finish by 10:30? Let’s not waste time!” Liu Lan said, then went to get the script box.
The middle schooler about to choose chips withdrew his hand.
The one holding jianbing in his left hand and spicy strips in his right thought for a moment and put the spicy strips back.
The one who wanted cola looked at the noodle soup, then at the fridge, and ultimately took a bottle of cola.
Seeing that the six boys, after much deliberation, hadn’t taken many snacks and only grabbed a drink each before heading upstairs, Liu Lan found it strange.
“Hey, why aren’t they eating snacks today? Last time they were here, they devoured a tableful of snacks and finished all the original flavor chips.”
Jiang Qi: “…”
Wasn’t the reason obvious?
After Liu Lan went upstairs, Jiang Qi noticed there were still some leftover noodles in the pot. He first asked Old John and Huang Fugui if they wanted more; after they declined, he finished them all himself.
He even drank every last drop of the soup.
Jiang Qi quickly cleared the bowls and utensils. As he cleaned, he asked, “Uncle Huang, when you start the game later, will you be cooking noodles on the first floor or the second floor?”
“First floor. It’s more spacious,” Huang Fugui replied.
Jiang Qi nodded. “Then please prepare all the ingredients in advance. If you need me or Liu Lan to step in, just let us know.”
Just then, the drunk girl arrived early too.
By the way, the drunk girl’s real name is Zhou Yuan. Her state the other day wasn’t due to a recent breakup but because she went to a bar with a friend and ran into her player ex-boyfriend. She overheard him and his friends mocking her, which deeply upset her and led her to decide to get drunk. Unfortunately, she didn’t get drunk enough, hence the scene from the day before yesterday.
Liu Lan had learned all this through chatting with her using the customer service account last night.
Jiang Qi thought that with Liu Lan’s chatting skills, she’d be a natural in intelligence work during special eras.
“You’re here early. Have you eaten?” Jiang Qi checked his phone—it was only 6:17 PM. Today’s customers were all arriving ahead of schedule.
“Not yet. My friend made sandwiches and will bring them later. I didn’t feel like going home, so I came straight after work,” Zhou Yuan said, smiling somewhat awkwardly. She glanced at the three in the hall and finally looked at Jiang Qi. “Are you leading our game today?”
“Not me,” Jiang Qi said, pointing to Huang Fugui. “Old Huang will lead your game. He’s also a Game Master at my store.”
Zhou Yuan looked surprised but didn’t react much, probably because she had cried her eyes out over Old John’s Performance the night before last.
Though she cried no matter who performed, Jiang Qi vaguely remembered her sobbing particularly loudly during Old John’s act.
“Old Huang used to be an actor in a theater troupe. He’s professional at leading games too,” Jiang Qi began falsely praising his employee. “Today’s script is especially suitable for Old Huang to lead. You’ll see when the time comes.”
Zhou Yuan nodded, somewhat understanding, and went to sit on the sofa.