Chapter 425 - 209: Wait, Bro, Are You for Real?

Chapter 425: Chapter 209: Wait, Bro, Are You for Real?

As for whether this would work out, that would depend on Teacher Song’s feelings.

Ming had practiced the Child’s Skill for over twenty years. Asking him to hit on girls would be asking way too much of him.

After a busy morning, Comrade Zhou carried the custom-made long table outside. He set out the braised vegetable dishes basin by basin, and a whole winnowing basket full of braised meat was placed on a small square table. The spread was a dazzling, eye-catching sight.

Business had stabilized recently. He had a good idea of how much braised meat and vegetables they would sell at noon each day. What he put out would almost always sell out, and the rest was kept covered in a cool place inside, just as fresh for the evening rush.

Kong Guodong rode his bicycle to the entrance of the textile factory. He glanced left and right, and his eyes landed on the sign for Zhou Yan Restaurant. It was the very first storefront at the factory entrance—a truly easy-to-find location.

The one organizing his knives out front was none other than Zhou Yan’s Old Man, Zhou Miao.

"Master Zhou," Kong Guodong said with a smile, walking over while pushing his bicycle.

"Master Kong." Zhou Miao recognized Kong Guodong and looked a bit surprised. He turned and called back into the shop, "Zhou Yan, your Master Kong is here!"

Zhou Yan had just about finished his prep work. Hearing the call, he put down his kitchen knife, wiped his hands, and came out of the kitchen. He saw Mrs. Zhao and Comrade Zhou welcoming Kong Guodong into the restaurant and hurried forward with a smile. "Master Kong, what brings you here?"

"Everyone’s been saying you opened a restaurant, but I never managed to find the time to come see it. I happened to be free today, so I came to take a look," Kong Guodong said with a smile.

"It’s wonderful of you to come. You elders from his school have always taken such good care of Zhou Yan and helped him become so skilled," Mrs. Zhao said as she brought over a cup of tea.

"That’s all thanks to Xiao Lei. He was a good teacher, and Zhou Yan is naturally gifted. I’m just benefiting from their reputation," Kong Guodong said, shaking his head as his gaze swept over the restaurant.

A large stove stood at the entrance, a pot of beef bone broth simmering away. The fragrant steam wafted over, carrying an especially savory aroma. This must be Zhou Yan’s Kneeling Beef soup.

’I could smell it from the factory entrance. The weather’s getting colder, and when you smell that aroma and think of a bowl of hot soup, your bicycle just naturally steers you toward the restaurant.’

’This is more effective than having ten people shouting out front!’

’That Zhou Yan is a sharp one.’

The restaurant wasn’t small. The main dining hall alone had to be around a hundred square meters, filled with nearly twenty tables. They were packed a bit tightly, but the customer flow was reasonably well-planned. It would probably be quite lively when full.

They were proper "Eight Immortals" tables, made of solid, quality materials. One of these tables with four benches couldn’t have been cheap.

Just the tables and benches alone must have cost five or six hundred yuan.

’Who invests this much to open a small restaurant in a township?’

The floor was concrete, and there was no suspended ceiling, just eight incandescent bulbs hanging down. The decor was simple, but its greatest strength was its clean and fresh look.

The menu consisted of wooden plaques with dishes written on both sides, hung on the wall. When a dish sold out, the plaque was taken down and moved to a "sold out" section. This was a common practice in Rongcheng restaurants.

’For a township, this counted as a large restaurant.’

His own talent for cooking was average, so over a decade ago, he had transitioned into restaurant management. Now, he was the deputy manager of Le Ming Restaurant, and he could see all these ins and outs at a glance.

’Zhou Yan’s restaurant may be small, but it’s very well put together.’

"Master Kong, you probably haven’t had lunch yet, have you? You didn’t give us a heads-up you were coming, so we’ve already eaten. Once customers start arriving, we get too busy to eat," Zhou Yan said with a smile. "Why don’t you order a couple of dishes and have a simple meal here?"

"It’s fine, I’m not hungry yet. I have..." Kong Guodong started to say, shaking his head with a smile, but he was cut off mid-sentence.

"Mrs. Zhao, I want an order of Twice-Cooked Pork and a Mapo Tofu!" one of two customers called out as they walked in the door, not even waiting to sit down.

"You got it, one moment," Mrs. Zhao replied with a smile, grabbing a pen and paper and quickly scribbling down the order.

"Mrs. Zhao, I’ll have a forty-cent assorted vegetable platter—go heavy on the tofu skin, please—and a bowl of Kneeling Beef."

"Mrs. Zhao, I’ll have an order of Fish-Fragrant Shredded Pork..."

Once the first customers arrived, more started trickling in. Mrs. Zhao smiled and took their orders, her pen flying across the notepad.

Comrade Zhou also got busy selling the braised dishes.

Zhou Yan said with a hint of resignation, "Master Kong, why don’t you have a seat for a while? We can talk about whatever it is later?"

Kong Guodong nodded with a smile. "The customer comes first. You go get busy. I’ll order a couple of dishes and have lunch. I want to try your Kneeling Beef. We can talk after you’re done with the rush."

"You got it," Zhou Yan said, turning and heading for the kitchen.

Kong Guodong ordered a bowl of Kneeling Beef and a plate of Mapo Tofu, then took a leisurely sip of his tea.

’It’s lunchtime, but there are only a few customers trickling in. Business doesn’t seem that great after all.’

He felt a little more at ease. This meant there was still a chance to convince Zhou Yan to come work at Le Ming.

Just then, the closing bell from the textile factory rang out. Workers streamed out of the factory gates and flooded directly into Zhou Yan Restaurant.

Kong Guodong’s hand trembled, and he spilled tea all over his pants.