There were over a hundred people at the construction site, and they had sold out of every last bit of *bingfen*. Still, more than thirty workers hadn't gotten any.
There were about a dozen workers who were likely genuinely struggling financially; they just watched from a distance, never quite managing to work up the courage to join the crowd.
"Hey, friend, we’ve got another month or so on this project. You should come back tomorrow," one worker called out.
The workers who had already eaten were satisfied, while those who hadn't stared longingly at the empty buckets. Hearing the descriptions from those who had been lucky enough to have a bowl, their curiosity had been piqued.
"Will do. We'll try to get here earlier tomorrow and prepare a bit more," Hou Yong said, smiling as he packed up his stall. Only then did the workers begin to disperse.
Beside him, Gu Panpan counted the day’s earnings over and over. After the third count, she looked at Hou Yong, her voice trembling slightly: "Brother Yong, we brought in thirty-six yuan and fifty cents today."
After deducting the costs of the samples given away, the raw materials, and their transportation, their actual profit for the day was roughly thirty-four yuan. Since the brown sugar, raisins, and hawthorn bits they had bought yesterday would easily last for at least two more rounds, they were still coming out ahead.
Earning a month’s wages for the average person in just a single morning—if they could maintain this pace, they could pay off their family’s debts in a month, and his father’s medical expenses would no longer be a problem.
"Don't get too carried away," Hou Yong said, pouring a little cold water on her excitement at just the right time. Seeing the joy on Gu Panpan’s face dim, he smiled and patted her head. "But this is a good start, isn't it? We’ll take things one step at a time."
Once the stall was packed up, Hou Yong took a bowl of *bingfen* from the bucket, topped with a base of brown sugar, hawthorn bits, and raisins.
"Eat this. You've been working hard all morning; don't let yourself get heatstroke."
As he spoke, Hou Yong reached out to tuck away a stray lock of hair that had been dampened by sweat and stuck to Gu Panpan’s temple. Looking at the loaded bowl of *bingfen*, Gu Panpan felt a pang of heartache—this bowl alone could have sold for fifty cents.
"What are you thinking about? The cost of this is less than ten cents. Just eat it and don't worry."
With Hou Yong’s reassurance, Gu Panpan finally ate the *bingfen*.
The walk back was much easier than the trip there, as the *bingfen* and water buckets were nearly empty, leaving only the bowl bucket hanging from Hou Yong’s shoulder pole. On the way back, Hou Yong stopped at a general wholesale store to buy twenty sets of tableware. Since he had made money today, he wanted to return the ones he had borrowed from the village.
Strictly speaking, those belonged to the collective. Hou Yong didn’t want to take advantage of that and put Old Gu in a difficult position. Furthermore, he wanted to give the villagers the illusion that this business was a failure—or at least not profitable—so there would be no need for that many dishes.
Making money on the down-low and living a quiet, comfortable life was better than anything else; after all, envy existed in every era.
Neither of them spoke on the way back, but the atmosphere was far lighter than it had been earlier. Gu Panpan even reached out to tug at the corner of Hou Yong’s shirt. It was past four in the afternoon, and the setting sun stretched their shadows out long. Hou Yong felt that this simple, warm contentment was something he had yearned for in his previous life, yet never attained.
He didn't care for the excessive pursuit of fame and fortune. Finding small joys and warmth in life while managing to make a living was enough for him.
...
Over the next few days, Hou Yong focused primarily on the construction site south of the city. Sales of *bingfen* went from eighty-six bowls on the second day to a stable average of about sixty bowls thereafter.
He stopped going to the morning market, choosing instead to set up near the bustling Central Street. Sure enough, in a place where people were busy trading foreign exchange certificates and all sorts of coupons, the *bingfen* was incredibly popular, with one hundred and twenty bowls selling out instantly every day.
But for now, this was his limit. There was no other reason than the fact that Hou Yong still had to go up the mountain every day to pick *stone flower seeds* and return to wash and scrub them. If it weren't for his sturdy constitution since childhood, he wouldn't have been able to handle the workload.
Today, after selling out on Central Street, Hou Yong was in the middle of packing up when he heard a familiar voice from a distance. Looking up, he saw, to his surprise, Wang Xue.
Wang Xue was following behind a middle-aged man. The man wore a striped T-shirt, his beer belly quite prominent, and a Lange watch on his wrist.
Hou Yong couldn't hear what Wang Xue was saying as she chased after the man, but she wore a look of haughty superiority. The man responded with a few impatient words, his eyes scanning his surroundings.
When he spotted Hou Yong and his setup, the man’s eyes brightened. He strode over and, seeing the half-packed bowls on the stall, the impatience on his face was replaced by a smile. "Young man, this is the *bingfen* stall, isn't it?"
Hou Yong watched him quietly, cast a glance at Wang Xue—who looked shocked and embarrassed behind the man—and nodded with a smile.
"The *bingfen* is sold out for today. If you want some, Boss Zhou, please come earlier tomorrow."
"Don't misunderstand, young man. I’m not here to buy *bingfen*." The man waved a hand, not concerned with how Hou Yong knew his surname. "I'm here to talk about a partnership. Would you be interested in selling me the recipe for this *bingfen*? Don't worry, the price will satisfy you."
Hou Yong had considered that this business would attract envy and that someone would eventually come looking to buy the secret. He just hadn't expected it to happen so soon.
If it had been a request for a franchise partnership, he would have been happy to oblige. But a one-time buyout of the recipe? Hou Yong wasn't about to kill the goose that laid the golden eggs.
Most importantly, this chubby man was one of his first benefactors in his past life. It was no wonder Wang Xue had been trailing him. Hou Yong just hadn't expected an old acquaintance from his previous life to be the first one to show up.
"My apologies, Boss Zhou, but I have no intention of selling the recipe for now."
Hou Yong shook his head with a smile. He didn't want to get involved with this benefactor from his past life yet—at least not for the time being, as the time wasn't right.
"Hou Yong? It’s you?"
Wang Xue hadn't expected to run into Hou Yong here. She glanced at his empty shoulder pole and a look of undisguised contempt curled the corners of her mouth.
"As expected, you only know how to engage in these petty, trivial trades. You’ll never be anything more than bottom-tier."
"Hmm, you're right."
Hou Yong couldn't be bothered to waste words with her. He shifted the shoulder pole on his shoulder and prepared to leave. However, Gu Panpan wasn't having it. She frowned and said, "Wang Xue, business has no size. What’s wrong with us working hard with our own hands to prosper?"
"Prosper?" Wang Xue laughed as if she’d heard the greatest joke in the world. In her past life, she had been so well-protected by Hou Yong that she didn't understand the real value of those words in this era. She scoffed coldly, "Birds of a feather flock together. You two are certainly a perfect match."
"Are you finished yet?"
As soon as the words left Wang Xue's lips, Boss Zhou turned his head and scolded her impatiently.