Gourmet: The Master Chef Just Wants to Leisurely Set Up a Stall - Chapter 73

“Wow, sis, you’re so thoughtful! Did you make this yourself? You even know how to make sweet soups?” a curly-haired woman asked as she collected her skewers and picked up a cup of the mung bean milk ice, inspecting it closely.

“Yes, I made it myself. Try it and see if it’s any good,” Zhao Xiaojing replied with a smile.

“Thank you, Boss. You’re so kind… Boss, are you busy during the day? Do you have a lot on your plate?” another customer, who had also grabbed a mung bean milk ice, cautiously asked.

“I guess so. I have other work during the day,” Zhao Xiaojing answered.

“So, were you busy today? Did you have time to slack off?” the customer probed further, visibly nervous.

“What kind of work do you do during the day, Boss? Are you allowed to check your phone while working?” Another customer chimed in, clearly hesitant to leave while awkwardly trying to make small talk.

“Uh, I’m pretty busy. I don’t really check my phone much,” Zhao Xiaojing responded, trying to figure out why everyone was suddenly so interested in her schedule.

“Oh, that’s good… I mean, uh, I mean, that sounds productive!” The tattooed guy, who had asked the previous question, let out a sigh of relief, blurting out his true feelings before quickly backtracking after receiving a smack on the shoulder from the person behind him.

Zhao Xiaojing had felt the awkward tension in the air, but now she couldn’t help but stifle a laugh at the absurdity.

“Boss, what’s the difference between the red bean and the mung bean ice?” Another customer, number 27 on the order list, sensed that the conversation was about to get too revealing and quickly changed the topic.

“These are actually made the same way, both with milk-based shaved ice. The difference comes from the beans themselves. The red bean has a richer flavor, while the mung bean is lighter. Plus, I’ve sprinkled different toppings—osmanthus on the mung bean and tangerine peel bits on the red bean.”

Zhao Xiaojing pointed to the two containers as she patiently explained.

“Wow, Boss, you really know your stuff! That combo sounds amazing!”

“And you even added osmanthus and tangerine peel? Boss, you’re way too generous! You’re giving us such big portions as freebies, and you’re even adding toppings…”

The conversation shifted as the customers, perhaps realizing their earlier questions were a bit too revealing, eagerly discussed the sweet soups Zhao Xiaojing had made.

Seeing that the topic had finally shifted away from the day’s events, customer 27 sighed in relief. These idiots, he thought. Don’t they know that acting overly curious is only going to make things more suspicious? If you’ve screwed up, the best way to cover it is to act normal, not make a big deal out of it!

This was something he’d learned from his own experience, enduring countless investigations from his wife!

Feeling proud of his expertise, number 27 opened his red bean milk ice and leisurely scooped a spoonful into his mouth.

“Whoa! Boss, do you add opium poppy shells to your food?!”

His loud exclamation rang out across the stall, and the surrounding customers immediately fell silent, exchanging nervous glances.

“What do you mean?”

“What did you just say?”

“Did you just say there’s drugs in this?”

The crowd, many of whom were holding cups of the milk ice, turned to stare at number 27 in shock.

“Ah, no, no! That’s not what I meant! I-I was just saying, the food is so good, it’s addictive! It’s like it has poppy shells in it—I mean, it’s so addictive! Uh, I mean, delicious! Yeah, just really delicious!” Number 27 stammered, realizing his mistake as everyone stared him down. He fumbled through his explanation, his face turning red.

The crowd burst into laughter, their curiosity piqued. Even those who hadn’t planned on trying the milk ice right away opened their cups to give it a taste.

“Whoa, dude, I get what you mean now!” The first person to dig into their cup clapped number 27 on the back as they spoke.

“Oh my god, this is way too good!”

“Holy cow, how is this red bean milk ice so rich and flavorful?!”

“This is hands-down the best ice dessert I’ve had all year!”

“Boss, can I buy a second portion? One freebie isn’t enough—I need more!” The tattooed guy rushed over to Zhao Xiaojing, eagerly asking.

“Boss, I want to buy one too! Can you sell me some?” another customer chimed in.

“Ahhhh, me too! How much for the whole batch, Boss? I’ll buy it all!”

“Who said they’re gonna buy it all? Who? Say that again, I dare you!”

“Boss, I didn’t take my freebie earlier! I’m number 93—the one who said I didn’t like sweet stuff, remember?”

As soon as the tattooed customer voiced his desire to buy more, the rest of the crowd jumped in as well, each person trying to secure more of the milk ice.

“These were just made as gifts for you all, not for sale. If I sell more, there won’t be enough left for everyone else. I only made enough for one serving per person today. But if you all like it, I’ll make more for tomorrow,” Zhao Xiaojing explained with a smile. She was genuinely happy to see her customers enjoy the treat so much. Making more for tomorrow would be a nice way to return the favor, especially after their effort to keep her from seeing the group chat drama.

“Boss, could you make a few extra portions for me tomorrow? I’ll pay for them!”

“Yeah, Boss, I want to buy some too! How about you sell them tomorrow instead of giving them away? We all want to buy more!”

“I agree! One cup looks pretty big, but I polished mine off in just a few bites. My wife didn’t even get a taste!”

“Yeah, yeah, I want more too…”

“Boss, Boss…”

The crowd, realizing there were no extras left for today, began pleading with Zhao Xiaojing to make more for tomorrow. In no time, the stall was buzzing with dozens of requests, the noise almost making Zhao Xiaojing’s ears ring.

Meanwhile, over in the corner of the parking lot, Li Donglai stood by the bikes, checking his watch nervously. Beside him, Guo Gaoang stood with his hands in his pockets, sweating profusely.

“What’s going on today? Everyone’s already picked up their orders, so why aren’t they leaving?” Li Donglai muttered, anxiously eyeing the crowd gathered around the stall. He was dying to know what was happening, but he didn’t dare go over.

He was terrified that, if he approached, familiar customers would bring up the argument in the group chat.

He didn’t want to lie, but he also didn’t want to admit the truth. He was afraid that if he told them what had happened, it would only make everyone as nervous as he was, especially if Zhao Xiaojing found out someone had insulted her skewers.

“Why does everyone have a milk tea cup? Is someone handing out free drinks?” Guo Gaoang craned his neck, trying to get a better look at the crowd. Every customer seemed to be holding a skewer in one hand and a cup of what looked like milk tea in the other, occasionally taking bites and sips.

“It doesn’t seem like anyone’s planning to leave anytime soon. Should I go over and check it out?” Guo suggested.

“Sure, go ahead,” Li Donglai agreed.

Guo Gaoang headed toward the stall but was quickly stopped by an elderly woman.

“Young man, what are they giving away for free over there? Do I have to attend a class to get it?”

“What?” Guo blinked, confused.

“I’m asking if they’re giving out free stuff. Is it for people who attend a class?” The old lady repeated her question, looking at him expectantly.

“No, no. We’re all just here to buy fried skewers. You’ve got to buy something to eat,” Guo explained with a chuckle. The whole situation reminded him of his grandfather—he could just imagine the two of them bonding over endless conversations.

“Granny, you should attend fewer of those classes. Your pension isn’t easy to come by—don’t let those teachers trick you out of it!”

“Huh! Who said that? The teachers aren’t tricking me! They genuinely care about us! Young man, I think you’ve got a nasty mouth. Maybe you should try the toothpaste we’re selling at the class?”