Gourmet: The Master Chef Just Wants to Leisurely Set Up a Stall - Chapter 13

Su Yuchen has been Zhao Xiaojing’s classmate since middle school, continued together through high school, and remains her only friend she keeps in touch with.

Because of their close bond, classmates nicknamed them “Comb” and “Mirror,” symbolizing how inseparable they were.

“Why haven’t you responded? What are you up to?”

“Hurry and give me the dessert shop address, or I’ll have to beg you!”

Dessert shop? Zhao Xiaojing chuckled, opening WeChat.

It turned out her Qingbuliang photos on social media had set off a chain reaction.

Zhao Xiaojing had few contacts, just a few dozen people, mostly former classmates. Yet nearly half commented on that post, asking where they could buy the dessert pictured.

Even some who never contacted her before sent private messages asking for the dessert shop location.

With a chuckle, Zhao Xiaojing responded to all the comments: “This is Qingbuliang; I made it myself.”

Then she replied to Su Yuchen, who had messaged her several times: Want some? My exclusive recipe isn’t shared unless you call me big sis.

After responding, Zhao Xiaojing waited with her phone, but Dong Mei didn’t reply.

She wasn’t sure if she wanted her to reply. Knowing any response would likely be scolding, today’s avoidance felt like a guilty act, leaving her uneasy.

Insomnia hit again until two AM.

At six sharp the next morning, Zhao Xiaojing rose with the sun as usual.

Last night she discovered a poultry wholesale market four kilometers away in the industrial area—a twenty-minute ride on her tricycle.

With more funds today than previous days when money was tight, she practiced larger skewers like chicken, duck, and goose in the virtual space. Today would be a good day to test them.

The system-gifted tricycle was great—quick to charge, ample storage, easy to ride—now her main mode of transport.

Upon arrival, she found that bigger cities no longer allowed live poultry slaughter—only smaller counties like theirs had such markets. Nearby cities’ restaurants sourced their poultry here.

Despite Yangcheng’s economic lag, this convenience was advantageous.

The wholesale market bustled with buyers of both live and processed poultry, purchasing in bulk.

Different meat cuts and sizes varied in price.

Asking around various stalls, she found wholesale prices similar and cheaper than local markets. Buying in bulk offered additional discounts, but she lacked storage space.

Finally, she bought two boxes each of large duck legs, chicken legs, and medium-sized chicken frames. Unable to store more, she opted for a skewer menu refresh today.

With some potatoes, lotus root, rice cakes, and tenderloin still at home, today’s aim was to use everything up.

Though they kept well, using them fresh improved taste and texture.

On the way back, she bought more seasonings. While the universal sauce was good, duck legs needed a complementary flavor profile.

Back home, she dove into preparation.

Once ready, hunger gnawed at her. She eagerly fried a duck leg to sample.

Rich in fat, the duck leg’s crispy skin glistened fresh from the oil. Brushed with honey glaze, its succulent flavor was amplified with each finger-licking bite.

Satisfied, Zhao Xiaojing nodded approvingly at the new offering.

Today’s ingredients seemed plentiful but fewer in variety, finishing two hours earlier than past days and starting the stall earlier too.

By 4:50 PM, Zhao Xiaojing pedaled into the alley.

“Humph, young folks these days love flashy stuff. They’ll soon learn the hard way when reality hits!”

“Exactly! When they can’t break even and nobody buys, they’ll cry for help. Business needs solid grounding; we don’t bother with showy nonsense!”

Entering the alley, Zhao Xiaojing overheard mockery and turned to see another skewer vendor loudly gossiping with the neighboring baked potato seller.

Hearing this, Zhao Xiaojing glanced at the skewer stall.

Calling it a stall was generous; it was merely a table displaying trays of semi-frozen, pre-made skewers.

Zhao Xiaojing understood their hostility—it seemed her success had cut into their business. Just two days running and already causing envy.

Both vendors sat glaring at her.

Zhao Xiaojing couldn’t be bothered retaliating. She sized up the vendors with an enigmatic smile before pedaling away.

This was Zhao Xiaojing’s preferred method for dealing with unwarranted hostility.

No arguing—the first rule is they won’t understand outside their own twisted logic; second, it wastes time and dignity.

A curious glance, a smile, and walking away leaves them stewing in their imaginations, frustrated with no outlet.

Of course, this strategy suits today’s passive-aggressive behavior without real action. If confronted with malicious acts, retaliation is necessary.

Sure enough, once she left, the two exchanged puzzled looks.

“What’s she smiling about? What does that mean?” The skewer vendor fumed.

“She looked you over and eyed your stall—it’s obvious! That little witch is mocking you!” The potato vendor provoked further.

“What do you mean? Didn’t she look you over too? Thinking I’m easily fooled? Trying to rile me up while you watch?!”

The skewer vendor quickly retorted, glaring at the potato vendor.

“Why insult me? We’re both in this business; I didn’t provoke you!”

“Then why incite me? Do it yourself if you’ve got guts! I never provoked you either!” The skewer vendor shot back defiantly.

“I will! Think I’m scared of your taunts?!”

“Ha! As if your tricks could work!” The skewer vendor muttered darkly, eyes fixed on Zhao Xiaojing in the distance.