Gourmet: The Master Chef Just Wants to Leisurely Set Up a Stall - Chapter 75

“Li, while it’s true that restarting the skewer business was your idea, it was still my choice to do it, and I’m the one making money from it. Besides, I might be the ‘boss,’ but I’ve barely managed the group. You’ve been the one putting in all the effort, keeping everything running smoothly. You shouldn’t feel bad whenever something goes wrong,” Zhao Xiaojing said earnestly.

“That’s not how I see it. I’m the one who brought in the crowd, and I insisted on creating the group. Maintaining it is my responsibility. Plus, you could earn money anywhere. The skewers you’re selling now are already way cheaper than before. I can’t just take advantage and then act all self-righteous,” Li Donglai replied, looking a little sheepish at her praise.

“It’s not like that. Without you, I wouldn’t have this opportunity to sell skewers that people take home and refry themselves. And with all the rules I’ve set—requiring customers to refry them and stick to specific pickup times—it’s only natural for them to be cheaper,” Zhao Xiaojing explained.

“And Guo, you didn’t do anything wrong either. There’s no rule against inviting people you don’t know into the group. By bringing in new customers, you’ve shown confidence in my business. The ones causing trouble weren’t your fault, so there’s no reason for you to carry any guilt over their actions.”

Her calm and understanding words left both men momentarily speechless, rendering all their carefully prepared apologies unnecessary.

“Still, what happened today was a wake-up call. The group has grown so much, and new customers now account for nearly 30%. This setup won’t work long-term,” Zhao Xiaojing said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and smiling at the two men. “My current job is about to end, and once it does, I’ll replan how I run this stall. It won’t stay in this format.”

While this pop-up stall had been an accidental venture, it was, after all, a business—one that relied on customers to succeed. Even her loyal regulars weren’t obligated to put up with all her restrictions, so it was natural for them to have complaints.

Plus, the current model had its limitations. If she wanted to grow the business, she couldn’t cater only to her flexible and forgiving regulars. She needed to open it up to a wider audience.

And honestly, the current volume of orders was nearing its limit. Balancing her day job with cooking skewers was exhausting—she couldn’t keep going without sacrificing her health.

It was time to rethink her approach.

“Boss, you’ve really got a long-term vision,” Li Donglai remarked with admiration. “Let me know when you’ve got the new stall set up. I’ll be your first supporter!”

“Me too!” Guo chimed in.

After a bit more chatting, Zhao Xiaojing handed the last unclaimed skewer order from the cart to Li Donglai and gave the remaining cups of milk ice to both men. Riding off on her vending cart, she left the two of them grinning with delight.

As soon as Guo got home, he couldn’t wait to tear open the milk ice package.

Scooping up a spoonful with high expectations, he took a bite.

Then, spoon suspended mid-air, he stared at the milk ice for a long moment before snapping a picture. He continued eating, savoring each bite with concentrated delight.

In his years as a food blogger, Guo had tried countless sweet soup shops, big and small. But not a single dessert had ever made him feel as genuinely cared for as this one.

The milk ice had partially melted, but its rich, creamy flavor still shone through—unlike the artificial taste of powdered cream so common elsewhere.

The thick layer of mung beans on top had been perfectly cooked until they bloomed, their texture soft and grainy. Chilled to just the right degree, the dessert had an unexpectedly divine mouthfeel.

It transported him back to his childhood—the first time he cautiously tried a mung bean popsicle, only to be completely enchanted by its icy sweetness.

Food that heals the soul, Guo thought, recalling the phrase once more.

Overwhelmed with inspiration, he wrote a heartfelt post late that night for his social media and blogger account, pairing it with a picture of the milk ice.

—

The next morning, Guo woke up to find his WeChat buzzing with activity. Even the long-dormant group chat “The Seven Gourd Brothers of Third High” had come alive.

“@Guo Gaoang, Guo, is this mung bean ice as good as you say? It looks pretty ordinary. My girlfriend just went back to Yang City—she loves stuff like this. If it’s really that good, can you send me the shop address? I want to order her a cup.”

“Wait, you’re still with Wang Lingling? Haven’t you moved on?”

“Yep, still her.”

“Wow, man. That’s almost ten years now, right? You’re really something, Cheng!”

“Holy crap, Cheng, how do you keep a relationship going for ten years? Isn’t it like your left hand holding your right hand by now?”

“Hahaha, maybe it’s just habit at this point.”

“Congrats, congrats!”

The group exchanged a few casual remarks early in the morning, but by the time Guo saw the messages, hours had already passed.

Guo and the six other guys in the group had been close friends in high school, practically glued together back then. They’d started the group chat after graduation, and though it had been lively at first, it had gradually quieted down as everyone moved into new social circles and work environments.

The first person to speak up was Cheng Zishuai, whose girlfriend Wang Lingling had also been in their class. The two had been together since high school.

“Wang Lingling’s back in town? I just woke up and saw the messages. There’s no shop for this—technically, it’s a freebie. You probably can’t order it for delivery,” Guo quickly replied.

“Guo, this wasn’t a sponsored post? From the way you went on and on, I thought it was some big ad campaign!”

“She’s back. And the fact that it’s not sponsored makes me want it even more! What did you buy to get such an amazing freebie? I’m dying to know!”

“Impressive! The fact that a freebie got Guo to write an essay-length post in the middle of the night says it all!”

Guo’s explanation seemed to wake the group up entirely, and everyone began chiming in.

“It’s a gift that comes with buying skewers. I’m not sure if they’ll keep offering it—it was made specially for the Mid-Autumn Festival.”

“Skewers that come with such an incredible freebie? Where do they sell these skewers? Are they good? How many do you have to buy to get the ice? I’ll hire someone to pick it up for me if I have to.”

Cheng’s interest was clearly piqued.

“Uh… these skewers are amazing. Like, eat-them-once-and-you’ll-love-them kind of amazing. But the business has some unusual restrictions—it’s mostly regulars who buy them. They’re partially cooked, so you have to refry them at home. Pickup time is also fixed—from 8:20 to 8:40 PM at a specific spot…”

Having learned his lesson about adding people to the group without explanation, Guo now approached his recommendations with extreme caution, listing all the limitations upfront.

“???”

“??????”

“Guo, where did you find such bizarre skewers?”

“Guo, are your food-hunting adventures this hardcore now? How did you even discover this?”

“This sounds so ridiculous… Are you sure it’s not just a scam?”

“It’s not ridiculous at all! The skewers are truly, truly, truly exceptional. In all my years as a food blogger, this is the one thing I’d recommend with absolute confidence. Once you try them, the so-called ‘restrictions’ won’t feel like a big deal compared to the unmatched taste.”

Guo desperately tried to justify his enthusiasm.
“Wow, sounds like Yang City really has some hidden gems.”

“With that kind of recommendation, I’m curious now. Next time I visit, I’ll have to give it a try.”

“Is this one of those places I’ve seen on short videos? Like, ‘A fried skewer stall hidden in an alley, run by an old granny for twenty years, with lines of regulars every day’?”

Guo almost choked on his water when he read that. What had these guys been watching? Where did they even come up with these titles?

“No, no,” Guo quickly replied. “The boss is someone we all know—she’s our classmate.”