Several customers left the stall after buying their groceries, their faces practically glowing with excitement. Jiang Heng—stunned—forgot to remind them they could join the group.
But after the first batch of customers left, the enthusiasm from the following buyers cooled down quite a bit.
An old man hurried over, glancing first at the box holding the Small Dragon Shrimp.
Seeing there were still plenty left, he let out a relieved breath and, with the same fondness for good food, began pulling out his wallet: “Boss, two jin of Small Dragon Shrimp, two jin of Mulberries, one Wild Crucian Carp, and some of these Mushrooms, and a bit of this and that…”
Jiang Heng’s hands moved quickly to pack his order, then weighed everything and totaled the price: “368 yuan altogether. How about you give me 365?”
The old man smiled with satisfaction—three yuan cheaper today, at least he got a small bargain.
Not bad, not bad.
Today’s selection was truly rich.
His son and daughter-in-law were coming back today, and those two always complained about having to feed their child unhealthy food just to keep him obedient.
Today, he’d let them see just how healthy real food could be!
Of course, buying this much was also because he knew they’d like it. He planned to make some Mushroom Meat Sauce to bring to their workplace later.
That was a method recommended by their upstairs neighbor from unit 1502.
Ever since the old lady mentioned this Mushroom stall in the Work Group Chat, several residents in the building passing by had bought some to try, and it quickly became a fixed customer base.
The buyers from 1502 purchased a lot. Once, by chance, they ran into each other in the elevator, and seeing the other carrying big bags, the old man was puzzled.
“Isn’t all that Mushroom going to spoil? We’ve had so many rains these past few days.”
The young owner of 1502 smiled: “No worries. All this is for making Mushroom Meat Sauce. Ever since I started using these Mushrooms, I stopped ordering takeout at lunch. After tasting this, takeout food just tastes artificial and chemically enhanced—you can tell immediately. So I make the Mushroom Meat Sauce myself to take to the company. It’s great with rice, delicious, and healthier than takeout.”
He used less salt himself, so the sauce wouldn’t last long, but that was fine. The small jars only lasted two or three days at most.
Hearing this, the old man immediately thought of his son and daughter-in-law.
There weren’t suitable jobs in their County Town, so both worked in the neighboring Provincial City, coming home only two days a month at best.
He often heard they ordered takeout, their faces greasy.
Meanwhile, cooking at home was exhausting, and their cooking skills were average, sometimes even ruining the food.
The excuses piled up, but the old man was sure it was laziness.
So he discussed it with the old lady and decided to buy more Mushrooms to make sauce for them to take away tomorrow.
As the old man turned to leave, he ran into their neighbor Yang Xing from 1502, who greeted him first: “Grandpa Xiaopang, buying so much again?”
The old man chuckled: “Da Pang and his wife are coming back. I’m buying more so they can try it too. You won’t find such tasty stuff in the Provincial City.”
A passerby nearby twitched at the corner of his mouth.
What?
Isn’t the Provincial City supposed to have better food than this little County Town?
Who even says things like that?
Turning around, he saw it was Boss Jiang setting up her stall!
The passerby hurried over, exclaiming to the boss: “Boss, you finally showed up!”
Boss Jiang smiled brightly in response: “Here I am, here I am. By the way, I created a group. I’ll notify people before I set up, and you can also pre-order. Want to join?”
“Definitely!” the passerby said, pulling out his phone to scan the code.
Yang Xing realized the old man was carrying so many things and offered, “Wait a bit, I’m heading home too. I can help carry your stuff back.”
The old man smiled gratefully: “Thanks a lot.”
“We’re neighbors after all,” Yang Xing waved it off.
Soon it was Yang Xing’s turn. She bought quite a lot again—Small Dragon Shrimp, fish, Mulberries, and a big bag of Mushrooms. The old man was amazed: “Making more Mushroom Meat Sauce?”
Yang Xing sighed: “No, I’m just buying for a friend. I sent some of the Mushroom Meat Sauce I made before, and they loved it, so they asked me to get more. I don’t have time, so I’m just buying Mushrooms to dry and send to them. They’ll make it themselves.”
Nearby, Song Ming overheard and thought,
Isn’t that a ready-made business opportunity?
She immediately called out: “Hello, beautiful! Are you interested in Mushroom Meat Sauce?”
Yang Xing was startled: “Huh?”
Song Ming came over, handing her a business card with a warm smile: “I have a Food Workshop License. The Mushrooms I use are fresh, bought from Boss Jiang. We make two types of sauce—beef and pork—at very reasonable prices. I can recommend it to your friends. We ship directly, guarantee affordable prices and quality ingredients. Oh, and Boss Jiang also takes pre-orders for dried Mushrooms. If you want to ship some, you can order directly from the boss—very convenient.”
Yang Xing: “Oh, okay.”
She took the card somewhat dazedly.
Are roadside stalls this comprehensive now?
Food Workshop License? This was her first time hearing about it!
But from what the boss said, it really sounded pretty good. Once this batch is ready, she’d recommend it to her friends to try.
Song Ming didn’t linger, seeing Yang Xing took the card and handing one to the old man as well. She smiled politely and returned to her stall.
Opportunity favors the prepared.
She had applied for the Food Workshop License a few days ago, and it was approved just yesterday.
Initially, she planned to make beef Mushroom Meat Sauce as gifts for friends, but she wasn’t wealthy enough to give everything away free. Poverty had forced her to be restrained.
If people pay, the service level had to match—they needed new cans and solid ingredients. So she bought quite a bit of material.
As she bought more, data showed promise.
The license was perfect for her.
Jiang Heng’s Mushrooms couldn’t be mass-produced—making quick money was fine, but she couldn’t really build a full industry chain.
This license fit perfectly. She applied decisively, and less than a week later, the license was issued.
With her own hard work and her parents’ help, the house now held dozens of cans ready to sell. Now all that was left was to figure out sales.
Song Ming’s eyes curved into a smile as she returned to her stall, waiting for the next customer.
When a customer came to buy the Beef-Mushroom Sauce Sushi, she casually promoted a few glass jars sitting on her stall, each labeled very professionally, indistinguishable from supermarket canned goods.
Each had a QR code to scan and view the license, sealed tightly with plastic wrap.
Usually, customers who liked Beef-Mushroom Sauce Sushi also loved Mushrooms, but they either didn’t like cooking or thought the price was too high and just wanted to try the flavor.
Once they knew Song Ming had canned sauce, eighty percent bought some.
The cans were small, about half the size of an Old Gan Ma bottle. Price was 19.8 yuan each, or 36 for two. The pork version was cheaper—16 yuan a can, or 30 for two.
Of course, compared to Old Gan Ma, this was pricey, but the ingredients were truly solid.
No unnecessary fillers to bulk it up. The main ingredients were beef and Mushrooms, both costly.
Everyone who tried it praised it. Her former colleagues hadn’t received their Mushrooms yet, but they already finished two jars of sauce and ordered ten more together.
Making a fortune, making a fortune.
Since meeting Jiang Heng, her luck had turned.
Thoughts raced through her head about promotions. Sure enough, the customer looked at the cans, then hesitated for two seconds before saying: “Two jars of beef, please.”
Song Ming packed them neatly and handed over the sushi: “That’s 61 yuan total. You’re a regular, so 60 yuan is fine.”
The customer was about to feel bad, but hearing that, he nodded without hesitation and handed over the money.
Carrying the heavy bag, he thought it was great—the cans would last a long time!
At the same time, Jiang Heng was also serving a large group of customers. After the brief rush, the stall front cleared for a moment.
She heard Song Ming’s earlier words and looked over curiously, just catching Song Ming’s gaze.
Song Ming immediately picked up a jar and waved it: “Thanks to you, I’ve developed a new industry!”
“Impressive!” Jiang Heng sincerely admired, then corrected herself, “No, I’m the one who owes you!”
If Song Ming hadn’t enthusiastically promoted her business and helped pull in customers, she definitely wouldn’t have made so much.
Song Ming feigned shyness: “Hey, it’s a win-win!”
The two laughed.
At Little Fatty’s home.
The old man and his son exchanged glances, both frowning darkly.
Why?
Because both were holding bags of Small Dragon Shrimp.
One had carefully processed them, the other just carried them raw in a bag.
For Da Pang, who had been spoiled his whole life as an only child, the boss was simply incompetent!
What was worse, his batch was more expensive!
The old man was also surprised—he hadn’t thought about that.
After all, no one had asked the stall owner to clean the fish before, even with the fish he bought. The small stall was clearly visible, no fancy tools.
The boss dressed plainly but cleanly, and everyone just accepted the fish as is, without asking for it to be cleaned like at a fish market.
But none of that mattered now. The old man said confidently, “What’s the matter? Don’t you know you have to clean the Small Dragon Shrimp fresh? Yours are no longer fresh!”
Da Pang: “…?”
“Isn’t that what you said before?”
The old man pushed his son aside: “Enough. The vegetables here are fresh, today you get to try something good.”
Da Pang: “Dad, aren’t you getting scammed by the boss?”
The old man looked at him speechless: “Scammed? The boss barely speaks to me. It’s just: ‘What do you want? Total price.’ Nothing else.”
He swaggered into the kitchen.
Da Pang looked at his mom. Grandma was calm: “Listen to your dad. Even he, the stingiest person I know, is willing to buy this. It must be good stuff.”
Da Pang was left speechless.
In the kitchen, the old man carefully opened the bag and dumped the Small Dragon Shrimp into the sink.
Several shrimps cleverly grabbed the edge of the bag with their claws, refusing to let go. The old man shook the bag hard several times before finally tearing it free.
The bag ripped, spilling the shrimps out.
The old man nodded in satisfaction, then heard his son’s voice behind him: “Dad, why don’t you wash them too?”
He lifted his own bag of shrimp.
The old man immediately said, “No! You wash yours yourself. Don’t mix these two.”
“Why?” Da Pang was puzzled, peeking over, “Is there shrimp discrimination now? Only black-shelled ones count?”
The old man snorted: “You don’t get it. Just don’t mix them.”
Da Pang sulked but obeyed. Coming home was rare, and his dad was trying to get him some good food. Luckily the kitchen sink had two basins. They split the work. Da Pang poured out his own shrimp.
They were large, deveined, heads cut off—just needed a quick wash before cooking.
Not like his dad’s batch, which was much more troublesome.
You had to do it yourself.
Especially since the shrimp claws waved menacingly—one slip and you’d bleed.
But the next second, Da Pang sensed something off.
There was a big difference somewhere…
The old man was skilled at cleaning Small Dragon Shrimp. The claws were strong, but he grabbed them from the back, carefully moving forward to control the pincers, then pinched the middle tail segment and pulled hard to remove the vein. He was about to brush them with a special food brush when he noticed…
“These shrimp are so clean?!”
The belly, the dirtiest spot, was spotless!
Even the crevices had no grime.
He tried another shrimp. And another. And another.
Still perfectly clean.
The belly was segmented, bright white in the middle, and the whisker-like parts on the sides were clean too. He picked at them with his nails and found no dirt.
He suspected his presbyopia was messing with him and moved closer to check carefully, only to get splashed in the face by a still-alive shrimp’s tail.
“Ptooey, ptooey, ptooey!” The old man spat out the water.
Da Pang laughed uncontrollably.
The old man glared at him, then looked at the shrimp in his own hand, frowning with disdain: “What’s so funny? Are your shrimp better than mine?! Hmph! And you even look down on mine?”
Da Pang’s smile disappeared.
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