pjbooks Chapter 21: [We'll talk about it later]
Chapter 21: [We'll talk about it later]
Of the four people, the one Liu Zhuohao ultimately kept was not the one who was the most perceptive and the first to step forward to collect the money.
He chose the second one—Huang Weixiong, who had a loud voice, was hurried, but tried his best to serve customers.
As for the other two, contact information was also provided.
Although, I didn't get the job.
However, their answers were selected by Liu Zhuohao from dozens of emails; they were the most serious in their responses and were also the most satisfactory.
"Weixiong, there are two reasons why we're keeping you." Liu Zhuohao took out a cigarette from the pack and handed it to him, his tone casual. "First, you're a chef, so you have a foundation."
"Secondly, you're physically strong and honest."
"Setting up a street stall is both physically demanding and morally honest; I value the latter more."
The man in front of me raised his hand and waved it; surprisingly, he didn't smoke.
"It's good that you don't smoke, but you have to learn how to spread smoke."
Liu Zhuohao lit his cigarette, took a puff, and spoke with a hint of experience: "Buying a pack of Double Happiness cigarettes is inexpensive and festive. If you encounter a customer who is being difficult, or if there is a conflict at the stall next door, take out your cigarette case, offer one to each of them, and say 'It's not easy for anyone,' and most of the anger will dissipate."
His gaze turned serious: "In our line of work, skill is in the hands, and relationships are in the cigarettes."
"clear."
Huang Weixiong nodded hastily, but his eyes carefully noted it down.
He paused, then asked, "Boss, when do I start work? What will my main responsibilities be? And what about the compensation...?"
"In a while, probably, um, I'll let you know later."
Liu Zhuohao glanced subtly at the bookstore owner, who was sitting on the steps at the entrance of the bookstore. "You can start as a waiter. When you're busy, you can cook me some pasta."
He flicked his cigarette ash and said bluntly, "As for the compensation, it's the three thousand we agreed on before."
"Monthly rest days are probably not an option, at least I don't plan to take any. If you can handle it like me, once business stabilizes, holidays and bonuses will be much easier to discuss."
Huang Weixiong answered almost without hesitation: "Yes, I definitely can!"
This urgency made Liu Zhuohao raise an eyebrow: "So desperate for money?"
Huang Weixiong's face flushed red, his lips moved, but he could only mumble, "...Something came up at home."
Liu Zhuohao did not ask any further questions.
A sense of propriety is the first lesson a boss should teach. If you have some basic understanding, you'll naturally see things clearly after working together for a while.
Without lingering, Liu Zhuohao watched Huang Weixiong ride away on his secondhand bicycle and stubbed out his cigarette.
He had just turned around when his hand touched the motorcycle's cold handlebars—
"Boss, all done?"
The bookstore owner, who had been squatting on the steps in front of the bookstore like a stone statue for a long time, finally "came to life".
He sprang to his feet, brushed off non-existent dust from his pants, and a smile on his face was warmer than the midday sun. He shuffled over in a few steps.
"You've got quite a entourage today," the boss said, rubbing his hands together and scanning Liu Zhuohao's face and the street. "You've already recruited everyone? Are you trying to... expand your business?"
Liu Zhuohao's hand was firmly gripping the motorcycle throttle, but he didn't twist it. He just turned his head slightly and said, "Well, I'm just killing time anyway, so I might as well set up a night market and test the waters."
"...It's not because of what I said to you earlier, is it?" The bookstore owner took a half step forward, his voice suddenly lowering. The warmth faded, replaced by a slightly heavy, heartfelt tone. "Young boss, let me be honest with you, I really didn't mean that... I have no intention of kicking you out at all."
He paused, as if he had made a great decision, and then suddenly broke through the unspoken understanding between the two of them: "My nephew just wants to learn a trade."
"I promise you, once he learns it, I'll kick him out immediately and make him set up shop somewhere else! It won't bother you at all!"
The matter has been laid bare.
Liu Zhuohao listened quietly, his face remaining expressionless.
After the boss finished speaking, the breaths that had been urgently trying to prove himself eased slightly in the air. Only then did he turn his head and smile at the boss. The smile was clean, even carrying a touch of the straightforwardness unique to young people, untouched by the harsh realities of society.
"Uncle, you're overthinking it."
He spoke casually, as if he were talking about what to eat for dinner, "I just saw that the breakfast stall here is stable, and the afternoons and evenings are empty anyway. I'm young, I have a lot of energy, so I want to earn as much as I can."
"Besides..."
Liu Zhuohao seemed to suddenly remember something, and his smile became even brighter. "If I really get this going, I'll be so busy I'll be running around like crazy. I might even have to ask your nephew to come and lend a hand!"
These words were spoken flawlessly, without elaborating at all on the matter of "driving them away".
The bookstore owner opened his mouth, but his prepared remarks were choked by these words of retreating to advance and using clumsiness to defeat cleverness.
His facial muscles twitched involuntarily twice, and he stood there stunned.
After a long silence, the bookstore owner, like an old machine with a delayed signal, slowly nodded a few times and squeezed out a few words:
"...Being young is a good thing."
These words were no longer just flattery; they carried a hint of sincerity.
He finally understood that the man in front of him was not an inexperienced young man, but a seasoned and shrewd old fox.
In fact, compared to those seasoned veterans, this guy is even more driven and cannot be manipulated in the slightest!
Just a few days ago, I mentioned that my nephew was coming to set up a stall.
They closed down just a few days ago, and now they're already hiring, planning to set up night market stalls as well.
Even if the breakfast stall is gone, people will still have food to eat.
But it's myself...
The bookstore owner watched the food truck drive away, hoping for an amicable farewell.
……
On the second day after reopening, before dawn, Liu Zhuohao saw his "nephew".
The person was different from what I expected; he wasn't slick or slippery.
He was in his early twenties, with dark skin, rough hands, and large knuckles covered in calluses from heavy manual labor.
Upon seeing Liu Zhuohao, he immediately put on a simple smile, calling him "Brother Liu" repeatedly and moving quickly and efficiently, helping to move things, showing that he was a regular worker.
As Liu Zhuohao prepared the ingredients, he glanced coldly at the simple hand-pulled pancake stall next to him.
Since the boss had made things clear, he was happy to do him a favor and actually became the "master".
"Your pancake wrappers..." Liu Zhuohao picked up a frozen pancake wrapper that the other party had spread out, weighed it in his hand, and said, "They're a size smaller than the standard ones. They'll look small when fried, and customers will feel cheated at first glance and won't come back next time."
The nephew rubbed his hands together and chuckled, "Brother Liu, the larger sizes are more expensive, more than two cents more per sheet. I've calculated it, if it's smaller, we can brush on more sauce, and the customers won't notice."
"And these eggs." Liu Zhuohao cracked open an egg in the other person's basket. The eggshell was thin and spotted, and the egg white was sparse. "Loose eggs, right? They smell fishy and fall apart easily. For a breakfast stall, eggs are the face of the business."
My nephew disagreed: "They're all eggs, they're all the same once they're cooked. Bulk eggs are two or three yuan cheaper per pound, you can save a lot of money every month."
Liu Zhuohao wiped his hands, his tone still calm, but his words were more direct: "Hand-pulled pancakes are a small business, that's true, but precisely because it's small, we can't skimp on profits from the ingredients."
"Indeed, ordinary customers don't care that much. Even if you give them plenty of sauce, they can't tell the difference between good and bad."
"But don't forget, it's right next to me. Do you really think people won't notice the difference?"
As the nephew listened, the simple smile on his face faltered, replaced by a hint of barely perceptible irritation.
He clearly felt that this "Brother Liu" was talking without any real understanding of the situation.
"Brother Liu, I understand the logic," he said, his tone hardening. "But we're just starting out, capital is tight, we need to survive first, right? Once business improves, I'll definitely upgrade!"
Liu Zhuohao glanced at him, said nothing more, just nodded, and turned back to prepare his own ingredients.
A classic "we'll talk about it later".
He's already made his point; whether people listen or not is none of his business!
As dawn broke, students began to pour into the streets.