Chapter Seventy-Six: Lin Guoshan’s Schemes

In this era, the concept of service first had yet to take root. Chen Huajiang’s training for waitresses Zhang Hong and Wang Cuihua consisted solely of one thing: smiling. Always maintain a smile. When guests entered, they were to be guided in and greeted with “Welcome.” When guests departed, they were to be escorted to the door and bid farewell with “Come again next time.” Such gestures would later become the bare minimum in the hospitality industry.

For Chef Wang and Chef Li, Chen Huajiang required them to prepare two versions of the dishes—one for the people of Nanming City, and one for foreigners. The base recipes remained unchanged, but the latter required a special “seasoning” concocted by Chen Huajiang: a syrup made from fruit sugar.

“Boss Chen, you’re insulting my culinary skills, and my integrity,” Chef Wang protested. “Is this even edible? Ugh—so unbearably sweet! You’re putting in so much saccharin, it’s harmful!” He scowled at Chen Huajiang, scooped up a bit of the red syrup, and quickly detected its hidden essence, nearly retching from the overwhelming sweetness.

“Chef Wang, then don’t worry about it. You were there last time—your meticulously prepared vinegar fish was almost mistaken for poison,” Chen Huajiang replied. “Foreigners haven’t tasted real food; all they want is sweet, sweet, sweet. What’s cloying to you is delicious to them. Let’s do it this way: if you don’t want to handle it, just cook the dishes, then let Zhang Ning and Zhao Xuebing finish them off.”

Chen Huajiang was somewhat displeased with Chef Wang’s stubbornness, but given how much they needed him right now, he could only offer a patient explanation with a smile. In truth, what he had prepared was ketchup—tomato sauce mixed with fruit sugar—a staple in fast food chains like KFC and McDonald’s in the future.

“Let Zhang Ning and Zhao Xuebing deal with it, then. I refuse to add this stuff to my dishes—it’s an insult to my craft,” Chef Wang said stiffly. If not for Chen Huajiang being the boss and a decent man, he would never have agreed to such a request.

Time passed day by day. Outside the Nantian Hotel’s restaurant, a large red banner was hung, reading: “Countdown: 2 days. Grand opening of Nantian Restaurant, Kunlun Branch. Surprising gifts, free presents galore!” With such foot traffic in the area, the banner easily drew crowds of passersby who stopped, curious and chattering.

“Isn’t this the hotel’s restaurant? What’s the Kunlun Branch supposed to mean? Isn’t Kunlun a mountain range?” someone wondered aloud.

“No idea what gifts they’ll be handing out, but I’ll check it out when the time comes.”

“The food here is absurdly expensive—I’d never pay for it. But a free gift? I’ll come and claim it,” another said, as the crowd whispered and pointed at the banner.

The next day, another line appeared on the banner: “First 1,000 customers get one jin of eggs.” The crowd grew even larger and the chatter louder. Among the nearby residential compounds, many elderly folks were gearing up, discussing plans to collect eggs on opening day.

“Such generosity—only Nantian Restaurant can pull this off. No other place could afford to give away a whole jin of eggs for their opening,” someone remarked.

“The grand opening’s at six in the morning, so we’ll have to get up at five. There’ll be a crowd, but I must get my eggs.”

“Exactly, let’s go together. If you can’t get up, I’ll wake you,” another replied.

Giving away eggs at a special price—even in the future, this would be a supermarket’s secret weapon. Now, for the first time in Nanming City, it proved just as effective. Eggs were much more expensive at this time—a jin cost twenty cents. Thus, the reopening of Nantian Restaurant was already the talk of the city.

Meanwhile, Chen Huajiang, accompanied by Ermao, made rounds in the rural townships, buying up eggs and potatoes, and then visited the meat factory to procure chicken legs and offcuts. At this time, the meat factory handled all kinds of meat, not just pork; any meat supply had to go through them.

In the Lin Guoshan household, the atmosphere was somber. Lin Guoshan exaggerated the story of Chen Huajiang leasing the restaurant to his parents. His motives were hardly pure—he wanted to prevent Chen Huajiang or Lin Jiayin from borrowing money from the family, and also to display his foresight to his parents and Fangfang, cultivating an air of wisdom.

He wanted to be able to say: “I told you so, I foresaw this—my brother-in-law never listens to me.”

“Over three thousand a year? Can he really make money?” Old Lin tapped his pipe, astonished by the sum, taking a long, cold drag.

“But don’t talk so smugly—Chen Huajiang is your brother-in-law, after all. Why didn’t you stop him?” Old Lin looked at Lin Guoshan, clearly displeased.

“Would he listen to me? You don’t know how much Huajiang has changed lately—he doesn’t even acknowledge me anymore,” Lin Guoshan answered. “He’s gotten cocky just because he made some money lately. If a man refuses to be grounded and dreams of getting rich overnight, he’s bound to fail. Besides, he owns half of my shop—I’m afraid that if he loses big, he’ll try to take my share. Dad, Mom, whatever my sister says, you mustn’t agree. That shop is my livelihood. Otherwise, you should talk to him—let him make his mistakes, but don’t let him covet my business.”

Lin Guoshan grumbled, then revealed his main concern: he wanted to keep the shop for himself. The shop had begun to operate, and the cash flow dazzled him—every day brought in over ten yuan, and after costs, five or six yuan of pure profit. To Lin Guoshan, this was a fortune—a windfall. The thought that half belonged to Chen Huajiang left him uneasy. Fangfang, noticing this, encouraged him, and he became determined.

Hearing this, Old Lin and his wife exchanged serious glances and finally nodded. They knew the shop was profitable, but remembered Chen Huajiang’s kindness. Without Chen Huajiang’s efforts, Lin Guoshan wouldn’t have managed to rent the storefront outside the textile factory, nor would he have had the skills, funds, or equipment to run the place. Yet, as it concerned their son’s livelihood, the old couple had to consider his interests.

Seeing his parents nod, Lin Guohua felt a surge of excitement. He exchanged a glance with Fangfang, who coyly threw him a flirtatious look.

The next day, the day before the grand opening of Nantian Restaurant’s Kunlun Branch, Old Lin brought Lin Jiayin to find Chen Huajiang. They first went to the Hongqi factory’s residential compound, but Chen Huajiang was already out, busy preparing ingredients and arrangements for the opening. Lin Jiayin entertained her father, but no matter how she pressed, he remained tight-lipped, and at last, she had to take him to find her husband, Chen Huajiang.