pjbooks Chapter 3: [Raw Egg]
Chapter 3: [Raw Egg]
On the quiet street, Liu Zhuohao, carrying a backpack, first bought a pack of cigarettes at a convenience store, and then pondered his itinerary for the day.
In addition to finding suppliers, he also needs to open a bank account for online shopping.
After that, you will have to register for and take the motor vehicle driver's license exam some time later.
— Cargo transportation.
Since I only run a small business, I can't expect suppliers to deliver the goods for me. In other words, I will need to ride my motorcycle to the wholesale market to pick up the goods and then sell the hand-pulled pancakes.
In addition to these, there are physical examinations, health certificates, venues...
As the various issues gradually became clearer in Liu Zhuohao's mind, it meant that his "funds" might not be sufficient.
Fortunately, I had a phone—a Redmi 1.
Although my family wasn't particularly wealthy, when I entered high school, my parents bought me a cell phone so that I wouldn't fall behind others and so that it would be easier for me to exchange contact information with my classmates.
With this phone, my "startup costs" have been reduced significantly.
Is he standing here now because he convinced his parents?
not at all.
Before leaving, my parents were still angrily yelling and scolding me, saying things like, "I've lived longer than you've eaten salt," "You're still like a child," and "If this were so easy, we would have..."
But I didn't listen, and I didn't need to listen.
Since you have your own legs, when you really want to do something, you don't need anyone's support to get started.
To put it bluntly, even after decades, my parents still seem timid about doing business.
If someone can be easily persuaded to give up, it's less about being influenced by others and more about a lack of confidence and a tendency to back down.
In his previous life, Liu Zhuohao had also backed down several times. After giving up, he would blame it all on others—that others didn't support him, which was why he gave up.
It wasn't until he got older that he became resolute: Should I give up?
I'd give up on an egg!
We only live once, so just do it!
The wholesale market is like another world, brightly lit and bustling with people at four in the morning.
Liu Zhuohao, familiar with the place, headed straight for the freezing area. More than a decade later, entering such a place felt as natural as coming home.
He stopped in front of a stall filled with freezers and called out, "Boss, how much for the pastries?"
The shop owner was squatting down arranging the goods when he glanced at him, then slowly stood up: "Twenty-five a pack."
Liu Zhuohao did the math in his head—this price is outrageous, one yuan for a single pancake.
"So expensive?" He picked up the sample next to him and squeezed it. "The thickness is okay, but I can't make it at this price, boss. There's no profit."
Regarding wholesale prices, he had already checked the prices of various raw materials for hand-pulled pancakes in China last night from 1688, which is Alibaba's wholesale procurement platform.
Although he has more than ten years of experience in the industry, he still needs to "understand the market" first.
The cost of a single pancake is too high, even at 80 cents.
"Hey, young man," the shopkeeper stepped closer, adopting a sincere tone, "this is top-quality stuff! Look how clean and white it is, it'll fry up into crispy layers, and smell amazing!"
He sized up Liu Zhuohao's young face. "How much do you want? I'll give you a discount if you buy a lot. Minimum order is thirty packs, so it'll be twenty-three for you!"
Liu Zhuohao laughed: "I'll just take two samples to try."
"Samples?" The boss's expression turned slightly indifferent. "This is a wholesale market, we don't do retail, young man."
"You want to make breakfast, right? Listen to me, don't try to save money at the beginning. Use good ingredients, and your business will take off!"
He reached into the freezer and pulled out another, noticeably thinner pack. "This one's cheaper, eighteen yuan, but I don't recommend it—the taste is nowhere near as good!"
She was implying that she wanted him to buy more.
"Don't treat me like a greenhorn, boss. I'll just take two to try them out." Liu Zhuohao looked up and stared directly at him. "If they're good, I'll take them from you regularly."
The boss squinted at him: "You...do it yourself?"
Liu Zhuohao remained expressionless: "Made at home."
The shopkeeper stared at him for a few seconds, then suddenly waved his hand: "Alright, alright, two tickets, right? Take them yourself!"
As he spoke, he turned around and muttered, "What does a kid like you know about long-term..."
Liu Zhuohao tore open two plastic bags, put them in, and attached labels indicating the store name and price—the quality was good, but the price was too high, and he would try to negotiate a lower price.
The next shop was even more direct. As soon as he asked for samples, the chubby owner waved his hand and said, "We don't sell in small quantities! We only sell by the case!"
"I'll just check the quality..."
"What can you tell about quality from a sample?" the boss shouted. "If you really want to do this, take a box home and try it! Try it and then come back to talk about the price! Two pastries? Are you kidding me!"
Liu Zhuohao didn't argue and turned to leave.
Behind me, I could hear the boss laughing with the others: "These kids nowadays, they're barely grown up and they already want to be bosses..."
When parents at home say a few harsh words, their intention may be to advise or persuade.
And those outsiders who look down on you truly do so.
Of course, there are also those who are straightforward and easygoing.
An old man, after hearing his purpose, waved his hand and said, "Take two and try them! It's never easy at first."
Liu Zhuohao listened and casually offered him a cigarette.
The old man smiled and replied, "The young man is quite sensible."
But such cases are rare.
Many stall owners, seeing that he was young, either offered him high prices or tried various ways to get him to buy more.
The woman at the egg stall insisted on giving him a tray: "Take thirty! How can you tell the difference from a sample?"
The butcher was even more direct: "Bacon? We only accept half a piece at a time! How am I supposed to charge you if you take two?"
Liu Zhuohao wasn't in a hurry. He paid those who needed to pay for the samples, offered cigarettes to those who needed to be offered them, and let those who needed to leave go.
He wandered around from four o'clock to six o'clock, his hands full of plastic bags covered with labels.
The morning breeze carried the mixed smells of various raw foods from the bag.
He walked along the gradually awakening streets, and the account in his mind became clearer and clearer—
Which pie shop offers the best value for money? Which shop has the freshest vegetables? Which shop has an honest owner? Which shop preys on new customers?
A few cents difference might not mean much to others, but for someone like him who started his small business from scratch, it represents profit margin.
As dawn broke on the horizon, he was almost home.
This trip not only yielded samples, but also allowed me to thoroughly understand the nature of this market.
When I got home, my parents were already up. I didn't know whether they went back to sleep after I left or if they had been waiting for me.
"Wow, all these bags and packages..." His mother came up to him, took the heavy plastic bags from his hands, and opened them one by one to check, "How much did it cost?"
Liu Zhuohao thought for a moment: "...It's over sixty, I guess. I mainly bought a pack of Double Happiness cigarettes."
"You bought so much stuff for just over sixty?!"
My mother's voice changed. She buys groceries every day, how could she not know the market price? Just these odds and ends of eggs, pancakes, and sausages must have cost at least seventy or eighty yuan.
The father looked up, his brow furrowed deeply: "You've even started smoking?"
"I didn't smoke just now; I gave some to the bosses," Liu Zhuohao said casually. "Say a few nice words, offer a cigarette, and get some samples—it's normal. Don't supermarkets offer free samples?"
The parents exchanged a glance and were both stunned.
They had worked their whole lives and had never encountered this kind of expertise before.
It sounds simple, but to truly achieve this—not being stage-frightened, not being taken advantage of, and still being able to get people to willingly give you things.
The nuances involved cannot be explained simply by offering a cigarette.
Heat the oil in a wok...
In the kitchen, Liu Zhuohao cracked an egg on the side of the pan with one hand, the egg liquid sizzling as it slid into the hot oil. The movement was so fluid, as if he had repeated it a thousand times.
The mother stared in astonishment: "When did you learn to cook?"
I saw it online.
Having cooked for decades, she fell silent.
Two scallion pancakes were ready in two minutes.
The golden and crispy crust is filled with a tender yellow egg, pink ham, and bright green lettuce, topped with salad dressing, and served steaming hot to the parents.
"You guys eat first, I'll fry a few more."
The father held the cake but didn't touch it: "Why don't you try it first?"
"Need not."
Liu Zhuohao's hands didn't stop. "I knew what to do while I was working on it."
The mother took a small bite, and with a crisp "crunch," the rich flavor spread in her mouth.
She slowed her chewing and looked at her son with a complicated expression: "...Delicious."
It's really delicious.
Crispy, fragrant, and generously filled, with a perfectly balanced flavor.
The father also took a bite, remained silent for a moment, and then uttered three words: "...It's alright."
Liu Zhuohao knows him too well—"Not bad" is the highest praise he could give.
But then, the father started nitpicking: "The taste is alright, but what's so special about it? There are hand-pulled pancakes everywhere, why would anyone buy yours?"
The mother chimed in, "It really is similar to what you get outside..."
They did not attack intentionally.
The slight confidence that the food brought them was far from enough to offset their worries about their son giving up his studies and embarking on an unreliable path.
"What a breakfast stall needs isn't something unique," Liu Zhuohao said calmly, flipping the pancake. "It's something common, standard, and quick to serve."
People eating breakfast are in a hurry and don't have the time to try new things.
They prefer to choose familiar, reliable, and error-free standard options.
It's all so ordinary, like rice noodle rolls, soup noodles, soy milk and fried dough sticks, I definitely can't compare to those old shops.
The customer retention period will be extended.
Hand-pulled pancakes are a common sight, but among breakfast options, those with fewer competitors are undoubtedly a better choice.
Especially among students, which would they choose: a serving of rice noodle rolls, a serving of soy milk and fried dough sticks, or a hand-pulled pancake?
The parents glanced at the clock, not having time to say anything more.
I'm going to be late for work.
Before leaving, his father paused at the door, turned back and glanced at him. In his eyes were worry, helplessness, and a barely perceptible wavering after being amazed by the craftsmanship.
In the end, he only said one sentence: "...Don't mess around."
The door closed.
In the kitchen, Liu Zhuohao continued frying pancakes, one after another, their aroma filling the air.
He didn't taste every single pancake. After cooking for a long time, sometimes you don't need to taste them; you can tell whether they're good or not just by watching the cooking process.
Like whether a pancake will crack and become crispy when it falls into a pan, or the sound of an egg being cracked open, or even the grease from ham, bacon, vegetables...
"Ding-dong—"
The doorbell rang not long after my parents went to work.
Liu Zhuohao went to open the door and saw a fat man wearing glasses and a sturdy young man who was over 1.8 meters tall standing at the door.
The fat guy is named Zhuang Zicong, and the burly guy is named Cai Jiahao.
Both of them lived in this district and had played together since childhood. They were classmates in elementary school based on their household registration. After a brief separation in junior high, they went to the same ordinary high school together because of their poor grades.
But that was all. A few months later, he went to a third-tier university, Zhuang Zicong went to a junior college, and Cai Jiahao repeated a year of high school.
After this separation, the three of them gradually drifted apart.