txolops Chapter 38 Increased Dosage
Chapter 38 Increased Dosage
8:30 p.m.
The lights in the Yintai Building Plaza were all on. Although the early summer night breeze had taken away the daytime heat, it couldn't suppress the fiery energy in front of the stalls.
Lin Chen's hand gripped the spatula. With one last toss in the wok, the golden rice drew a clean arc in the air before landing in the takeout box.
"The last one."
Lin Chen put down the shovel, his voice slightly hoarse, but his tone remained steady and powerful.
Wang Hai deftly closed the lid and handed it to a young man who was waiting impatiently, sweating profusely: "Here you go, this is your last one!"
The long line of white-collar workers who were originally at the back of the queue let out a mournful sigh when they saw Wang Hai start folding up the tables.
"Boss, are you sure you're out? I was almost at the front of the line!"
"Let's cook two more batches. Look, there are at least thirty people behind us. Can we work overtime?"
"Yeah, I came down here right after finishing overtime to get this hot food. Boss, could you please make an exception?"
Several white-collar workers who failed to buy any stainless steel buckets looked at the empty ones with disappointment on their faces.
Some people even took out their phones to transfer more money, trying to get Lin Chen to "add extra food" for them.
Lin Chen turned off the gas stove, and the moment the flame went out, the surrounding temperature finally dropped.
He took off his apron, wiped his sweat with a towel, and bowed slightly to the crowd: "I'm sorry, everyone, we've used up all the rice and eggs for today, not a single one left."
Please come early tomorrow, everyone.
"Sigh, I'll have to come down half an hour early tomorrow to reserve a spot."
"Let's go, let's go. We're really not lucky enough to have this. Let's just go to the back and grab some ramen to tide us over."
The white-collar workers dispersed in twos and threes, glancing back at the tricycle that was already packing up its stall as they walked away.
As Wang Hai skillfully lifted the empty buckets onto the car, he muttered to Lin Chen, "Brother Chen, did you see that?"
Those young men just now, their eyes looked like they wanted to eat people alive.
Our 100 servings sold out in less than four hours, not a single crumb left. The word-of-mouth is incredible!
Tangtang stood up from the stool, walked to Wang Hai's side, and patted the dust off her little skirt like an adult: "Uncle Fatty, everyone wants to eat because Daddy's food smells so good!"
"Absolutely!"
Wang Hai laughed heartily, tightened the rope around the truck bed, and said, "Let's go, home!"
Half an hour later, in a rented room in an urban village.
The electric fan inside was whirring, and Wang Hai collapsed onto the old folding chair as soon as he entered.
Instead of rushing to report the numbers and tally accounts as usual, he stared at the ceiling, his brow furrowed as he pondered something.
Lin Chen walked to the sink and carefully washed his hands with soap.
Although his wrists were a little sore from eating one hundred servings of fried rice, he remained calm.
Tangtang sat on a small stool, carefully peeling off the little red flower stickers from her schoolbag and sticking them back on, having a great time.
Wang Hai finally sat up straight, looked at Lin Chen, and said with a hint of determination, "Brother Chen, let's talk about something."
When I closed up shop today, I counted carefully, and there were at least thirty people who hadn't been able to buy anything.
This doesn't even include those who simply turned around and left when they saw a large crowd.
We'll have to increase the quantity tomorrow.
Lin Chen turned off the tap, grabbed a towel to dry his hands, and waited for him to continue without saying anything.
Seeing that Lin Chen didn't object, Wang Hai became even more enthusiastic, gesturing with his hands: "Look, we're selling a hundred copies so quickly."
Tomorrow we might as well just bring up 200 copies, which will only take two more hours.
If we could double our income every day, wouldn't our plan to buy Tangtang a new house be accelerated?
Lin Chen pulled up a chair and sat down. Looking at Wang Hai's anxious expression, he remained silent for a moment before saying, "Two hundred copies won't do."
Why?
Wang Hai was stunned. "Wouldn't it be stupid not to make money like that?"
"Putting aside physical strength and food preparation."
Lin Chen's expression turned serious. He pointed out the window and said, "This stove of mine is a modified household stove. The explosive power of the flame has a physical limit."
Frying two portions at a time results in a perfect taste; frying three portions at a time results in uneven heating of the rice grains, which will cause them to retain moisture, reducing the taste to a mere 70%.
If I cook two hundred portions in a row to meet the deadline, my physical strength will decline towards the end. If I slow down even half a second, the wok hei (the smoky aroma imparted by a hot wok) will dissipate.
Wang Hai opened his mouth, but didn't say anything.
He knew Lin Chen's insistence on that pot; it was his bottom line.
"Our current brand is dry and the grains are distinct."
Lin Chen continued, "If we ruin the taste just to make a few extra bucks, those white-collar workers might think it's good today and just so-so tomorrow. That kind of reputation will crumble much faster than it's built."
Wang Hai sighed and leaned back in his chair, somewhat dejected: "Then tell me, how much should we add?"
"We can't keep relying on these 100 portions forever, can we?"
Lin Chen pondered for a moment, quickly going through the cooking time of the rice, the cooling speed, and the load-bearing capacity of his arm.
"Increase to 150 servings."
Lin Chen gave a number.
"One hundred and fifty?"
Wang Hai's eyes lit up; the number was much better than he had expected.
"Yes, one hundred and fifty copies."
Lin Chen raised his eyelids and said calmly, "This is the limit I can currently achieve on this stove to ensure that every meal is of the highest quality."
If we add another portion, I can't guarantee that it will still have that caramelized flavor.
Wang Hai thought about it for a moment, realizing that fifty more orders would mean a turnover of nearly five thousand yuan, and his mood immediately brightened.
"Alright! 150 it is! Brother Chen, you're the best. We really need to ensure quality and quantity, we can't be like those cheap, low-quality stalls outside."
"How much is 150 portions?"
Tangtang tilted her head back and made a huge circle with both hands. "Does this mean Daddy will have to cook for a really, really long time tomorrow?"
Lin Chen smiled, bent down and patted his daughter's head: "Yes, Dad will cook for a little longer tomorrow."
"When Tangtang comes home from school tomorrow, can you sit next to me for a while longer?"
"Tangtang isn't tired! Tangtang wants to help Daddy get the spoon!"
Tangtang puffed out her little chest, looking very serious.
"Alright, Fatty, you're exhausted today too, go home and rest early."
Lin Chen stood up, signaling to Wang Hai that they could leave.
"Alright! I'll go to the market at seven o'clock tomorrow morning."
One hundred and fifty portions of ingredients... I'll have to buy two bags of rice and two trays of eggs.
"Brother Chen, Tangtang, I'm leaving!"
With the sound of the security door closing, the house fell silent.
Lin Chen walked into the kitchen and looked at the black iron pot that he had polished until it was shiny and was now reflecting light slightly.
As a chef, he knew what 150 servings meant.
That was a test of the wrist's limits, and a tempering of skill and technique.
But as long as he can guarantee that perfect taste, he has to push himself to the limit for his daughter's sake.
He reached out and gently stroked the cool edge of the pot.
In this small, cramped rental room, the air is filled with a vibrant, uplifting energy.
"Daddy, will Tangtang get a little red flower tomorrow too?"
Tangtang tugged at Lin Chen's sleeve.
"As long as Tangtang is obedient, she definitely will."
Lin Chen turned off the main light in the living room.
On this early summer night, he silently calculated the details of preparing the additional fifty portions for tomorrow, and slowly drifted off to sleep.