The braised dishes at Zhou Yan Restaurant were selling like hotcakes. Yang the Third and Zhu Feng were dumbfounded. All the customers who usually bought braised meat had been poached, and they hadn’t sold a single piece of the ten-plus jin they had prepared.

In contrast, Zhao Minghui’s braised peanuts were selling exceptionally well.

He had gone back in the afternoon to braise another fifteen jin, still using the "try before you buy" method. It didn’t matter if people didn’t purchase any; he would give a few to every passing worker to sample.

The peanuts were still warm, their texture and flavor even better than when cold, leading to an extremely high sales rate.

The braised peanuts were forty-five cents a jin, and you could get a whole bag for just thirty cents. They were perfect for pairing with a drink or giving to children as a snack.

The two sweet-skinned ducks he prepared for the day had also sold out.

Zhang Xiuqin was in charge of packing and collecting money, a brilliant smile on her face.

She had never imagined that a casual pointer from Zhou Yan could make their business so successful.

The braised peanuts she previously had no faith in had sold incredibly well today. More than ten jin were gone in no time.

Just from selling braised peanuts, they could earn an extra four or five yuan today!

Yang the Third and Zhu Feng huddled together and muttered a few words before separating again.

"Yang’s Braised Shop and Zhu’s Braised Shop are holding a joint first-anniversary sale! Pig’s head meat, one-ninety a jin! Pig’s ears, two-forty a jin! The flavor is incredible!" the two immediately began to shout. The price per jin was thirty cents cheaper than what they normally charged.

Braising pig’s head actually involved significant shrinkage. When Zhou Yan sold it for two-fifty, his gross margin was only fifty percent. For the two of them, dropping the price by thirty cents a jin really stung.

But they had no choice. Their main sales window was just the one hour when the factory workers got off. If they couldn’t sell their stock, they’d be stuck with all of today’s pig’s head meat.

With the cautionary tale of Wang the Fifth, the textile factory workers’ standards for the vendors at the gate had risen sharply. They absolutely did not dare risk getting caught selling leftover braised meat from the day before.

The meat, braised in the morning, had already been sitting out all day. If they took it home, it would darken by the next day and be completely unsellable.

Customers who hadn’t been able to buy anything at Zhou Yan Restaurant but still had their appetites whetted did come over to purchase from them when they heard about the price drop.

You couldn’t normally get pig’s head meat for one-ninety a jin.

No one knew if it was a genuine anniversary sale or if they had been forced to lower their prices by Zhou Yan Restaurant.

In any case, it was a good thing for the customers.

The two-fifty-a-jin braised pig’s head was delicious, but with the one-ninety version, you could afford a few extra slices and wash it down with another couple sips of wine.

There was always a group of more price-sensitive customers who, faced with a sixty-cent difference, would decisively choose the cheaper option as long as the taste was passable.

Before Zhou Yan Restaurant started selling braised meat, they had all been buying their pig’s head meat from these two stalls anyway.

Of course, if the price difference per jin was only twenty or thirty cents, then they would have seriously considered which one tasted better.

The sky grew darker, and the customers began to eat a little faster, eager to get home before nightfall.

By the time the customers had all left, a light rain had started to fall outside.

Comrade Zhou, covered in dust, stopped to pat himself down on the embankment before coming over. He was wearing a woven bamboo rain hat.

"You guys head home now," Zhou Yan urged, handing his mom the lunchbox he had packed for his dad. "I’ll clear the last few tables. It’s fine if I wash the dishes tomorrow morning. Just go before you get soaked!"

"Alright! Zhao Hong, stop clearing up and let’s go home! It looks like a big storm is coming," Mrs. Zhao called out to Zhao Hong as she untied her apron.

"Zhou Yan, just leave them. I can come wash them tomorrow morning," Zhao Hong said. Untying her apron, she headed for the door, where Zhou Fei had been waiting for a while. He handed her a straw rain cape.

"Why bother with a rain cape for a little drizzle like this? Let’s go, we won’t get that wet." Zhao Hong passed the cape back to Zhao Tieying. "Auntie Tieying, you wear it. Wrap Momo up so she doesn’t catch a cold. I can just hide behind Zhou Fei."

Zhao Tieying glanced at Zhou Fei in his own rain cape, then smiled and nodded. "Alright. I’ll leave it by your door in the morning. Remember to wear it if it’s still raining."

"Okay," Zhao Hong answered. She lifted the back of Zhou Fei’s cape, ducked her upper body underneath it, and they rode off on their bike.

"I want to sit in front!" Zhou Momo scrambled to the front of the bike, about to climb on.

"The hell you are. It’s raining, you’re sitting in the back with me," Zhao Tieying said, putting on the rain cape. She picked Momo up and bundled her inside it.

"I was so busy this afternoon, I completely forgot to grab the rain capes," Comrade Zhou said, looking a bit sheepish as he placed the bamboo hat on Mrs. Zhao’s head.

"I’ve got another one here," Zhou Yan said, taking out a second bamboo hat and putting it on Comrade Zhou. "The road’s slippery in the rain, so ride slowly."

"Will do. You get back inside before you get rained on," Comrade Zhou nodded and pedaled away on his bicycle.

The sky grew even darker. The light drizzle gradually became a steady downpour, falling in sheets. SPLASH, SPLASH, SPLASH.

The other vendors frantically pulled tarps over their stalls, scrambling to pack up their money, seasonings, and unsold food.

This autumn rain was surprisingly heavy.

’This is the benefit of having a proper shop,’ Zhou Yan thought. ’You don’t get caught in such a frantic mess when the weather suddenly turns.’

’At this moment, the fifteen-yuan monthly rent seemed well worth the price.’

People always said that each autumn rain brought a new wave of cold. Zhou Yan figured the temperatures were about to start dropping.

Once the weather turned cold, cold dishes would become harder to sell. Things like cold-dressed chicken would be painfully cold on the teeth in the winter.

The braised meats would also be affected, especially in winter when the fatty portions would harden and ruin the perfect texture.

However, it would be a gradual process. Southern Sichuan wasn’t like the north; the temperature drop was relatively gentle, so he could continue selling them for some time.

When the weather turned cold, everyone craved something hot to eat. Kneeling Beef was about to enter its peak season.

In the middle of winter, eating a steaming bowl of Kneeling Beef fresh from the pot and sipping a bowl of rich, savory beef broth would warm you from the inside out. Who could possibly resist that temptation?

Zhou Yan closed the door, shutting out the wind and rain.

He carried the dishes and chopsticks to the washing area in the back kitchen, cleaned everything, and set them on a nearby rack to dry.

Zhou Yan pulled the cash box out from behind the counter, took out his ledger, and recorded the day’s accounts.

All the braised pig’s head and cold-dressed chicken he had prepared today sold out, bringing in 43.32 yuan. A little over three jin had been used for samples.

He sold an extra twenty bowls of noodles, increasing his income by 12 yuan.

He had already heard about the factory cafeteria’s reform plan. They were eliminating the stir-fry station, and all chefs would now focus on large-batch dishes. By concentrating on a low-price, accessible approach to serve their fellow workers, the quality of their buns, congee, and noodles was sure to improve.

He predicted his restaurant’s noodle sales would gradually fall back to around eighty bowls a day, which would be fine as long as they stabilized at that level.

This was normal competition, and Zhou Yan had no problem with it.

However, with the factory cafeteria eliminating its stir-fry station, Zhou Yan would now have a monopoly on that business, competing directly against their extremely low-priced, large-batch meals.

Today’s total revenue was 416.3 yuan, with a profit of 207.1 yuan.

Both figures broke his personal records.

The introduction of the braised items had indeed opened up a market segment of customers who wouldn’t normally eat inside the restaurant.

Some customers had asked about braised beef, but at four yuan a jin, the price was daunting enough that Zhou Yan decided to keep it off the menu for tomorrow.

Zhou Yan also spotted a few familiar faces among his customers today—people he recognized from yesterday’s wedding banquet. They were likely teachers and government employees from the town.

This was a clear sign that yesterday’s wedding banquet had successfully expanded his customer base.

Even though their numbers were still small, word-of-mouth would spread easily within that circle, allowing his reputation to snowball.

[Ding! Main Quest: Dominator Textile Factory complete! The host has successfully expanded to over 1,000 customers and become the most famous privately-owned restaurant at the textile factory!]

[Quest reward has been issued: Spicy Stir-fried Pork Liver.]

Just as Zhou Yan closed his ledger, the system’s notification chimed.

A look of delight spread across Zhou Yan’s face as he read the notification.

Spicy Stir-fried Pork Liver was one of Salt City’s famous "Three Tenders of the Bridgehead." The dish was a staple in Sichuan Cuisine restaurants, a popular and almost guaranteed presence on any menu.

It was a common dish, but one that truly tested a Chef’s Fire Control.

If the liver wasn’t stir-fried properly, it would turn out tough and bitter, tasting like wax.

But if you aimed for extreme tenderness, you risked giving the customers an upset stomach.

Therefore, striking the right balance was the ultimate test of a Chef’s skill with Fire Control.

Pork liver was believed to be good for enriching the blood.

Zhou Yan himself preferred strong flavors and loved dishes like Spicy Stir-fried Pork Liver, Stir-fried Liver and Kidney, and Dry Pot Pork Intestines.

Besides, pork liver was incredibly cheap at only thirty cents a jin. A single stir-fried portion only required four *liang* of liver.

’Should I be ruthless and maximize my profit, or should I introduce a new low-cost dish for the customers?’

Putting that thought aside, Zhou Yan first selected Spicy Stir-fried Pork Liver to begin learning the recipe.

Knowledge flooded his mind. Countless points of experience fused into his consciousness, making it feel as if he had cooked this very dish thousands of times before.

A minute later, Zhou Yan’s eyes regained their clarity.

’Spicy Stir-fried Pork Liver. Mastered!’

As Zhou Yan’s mind raced, every step—the preparation of the liver, the high-heat stir-fry, the seasoning—was already crystal clear.

Spicy Stir-fried Pork Kidney, Spicy Stir-fried Pork Liver, and Spicy Stir-fried Crispy Intestines had been his master’s signature dishes. That was why Zhou Yan was already skilled at making the decorative cuts on the kidney and had watched his master cook these three dishes countless times.

Now that he had mastered Spicy Stir-fried Pork Liver, he felt more confident about tackling Spicy Stir-fried Pork Kidney and Spicy Stir-fried Crispy Intestines as well.

He would buy some pork kidneys tomorrow to give it a try. He wouldn’t rush to put it on the menu; first, he’d cook a batch at lunch for his family and staff to taste.

If it was still lacking something, he could always go ask his master for pointers.

Zhao Dong had asked him more than once when Spicy Stir-fried Pork Liver and Spicy Stir-fried Pork Kidney would be on the menu. Judging by the stir-fry sales at the cafeteria, the male workers were particularly fond of these dishes, meaning there was a stable market.

’Add it! I’ll add it tomorrow!’

Zhou Yan took out a wooden plaque and wrote "Spicy Stir-fried Pork Liver" on it.

After a moment of thought, he added the price: 0.8 yuan.

Pork liver was cheap, but the dish required a lot of oil, plus side ingredients and other seasonings, bringing the cost to about thirty cents.

Still, Zhou Yan decided to set the price on the higher side.

The price couldn’t just be based on cost; he also had to consider the prices of his other dishes.

If the Spicy Stir-fried Pork Liver was too much of a bargain, a surge in orders would inevitably cannibalize sales from other dishes and lower the average spending per customer.

Zhou Yan was adding new items to make more money, not to have his own menu items compete with each other and end up working harder for less profit.

After hanging the wooden plaque on the menu wall, Zhou Yan went to wash up and head to bed, completely satisfied.

The heavy rain outside pattered against the building, SPLASH, SPLASH, SPLASH. The sound was surprisingly good for sleeping, and as soon as Zhou Yan closed his eyes, he was out.

...

BANG! BANG BANG!

Zhou Yan, deep in a sound sleep, was jolted awake by a series of urgent knocks at the door.

He opened his eyes, still groggy, and heard Zhou Jie’s voice shouting, "Zhou Yan! Zhou Yan, get up! Your house collapsed!"