I've been reborn, I'm definitely going to become an internet celebrity!

Chapter 30: [Misfortune]

"I'm so sorry, there really aren't any left!"

"The last serving was for my young colleague; I didn't even get a taste of it."

"I'm so sorry everyone! Tomorrow! I'll be here waiting for you all tomorrow, and I'll definitely prepare plenty of ingredients, I promise!"

Compared to the deserted atmosphere when the stall was open, Liu Zhuohao's food cart was surrounded by layers of customers when it was time to close, with the lingering aroma of meat and anxious anticipation filling the air.

He quickly counted the few remaining ingredients and gestured for Huang Weixiong to go to the back of the line to remind them, saying:

"Ah Wei, go to the back of the line and tell everyone that we've sold out of ingredients for today. I'm really sorry, everyone. Please don't make us line up anymore."

Huang Weixiong squeezed through the crowd, and after shouting twice, a chorus of complaints erupted:

"Boss! What time is it?"

"Night markets never close this early?"

"Prepare more tomorrow! I haven't eaten yet!"

Several unwilling customers squeezed to the front of the food cart and peeked inside on tiptoe.

Under the lights, the glass cabinet was empty, with only a few scattered side dishes and pasta left. The steaks sizzling on the hot plate were the last ripples of the night.

Behind them, the owner of these steaks sat happily on a plastic stool, waiting.

One of the tables was occupied by Liu Zhuohao's longtime fans, who had been following his students ever since he started his breakfast stall.

There were probably only three or four groups of "long-time fans" like this tonight, but it was already beyond his expectations when he first set up his stall.

When Liu Zhuohao first set up his stall, he thought there wouldn't be a single customer, given how busy it was during mealtimes. After all, it's not easy for students to spend that much money to have a meal together.

If you're going to ask your parents to come along, you'll first have to convince them that the steak you can buy for 35 yuan is a legitimate and compliant steak, which is no easy task either.

After all, in this world, there are too many fake beef, water-injected beef, beef balls made from a mixture of duck and chicken meat... Many unscrupulous merchants are ruining the reputation of "Chaoshan beef".

"It's my fault, it's my fault." Liu Zhuohao apologized repeatedly while wiping the counter, but he couldn't help but smile. "I really didn't expect business to be so good. After all, I run a stall, so I pay a lot of attention to the food and beverage industry."

"I saw that street-side steak and chicken noodle shops were quite popular in Taiwan, and it seemed like no one here was making them yet, so I thought I'd give it a try... I never expected everyone to be so supportive."

He cleared his throat, his voice brimming with barely suppressed excitement:

"Tomorrow! Tomorrow I'll make sure I have plenty of ingredients prepared, and I won't close up shop until 11 o'clock. I'll make sure everyone gets to eat!"

That's what they said, but the joy in their tone was like an effervescent tablet in water, hissing and bubbling out.

I can't hold it in anymore!

Who doesn't hope that customers will complain, "Why didn't you prepare more?" or "Why are you closing up shop so early?"

This isn't an insult; it's clearly a disguised form of praise, an affirmation that money can't buy!

The guests grumbled as they left, their faces showing regret at not getting any food, but they kept saying, "Come earlier tomorrow."

One middle-aged man in sandals even walked up to the food cart and knocked on the glass cabinet: "Boss, could you save two portions for me tomorrow? I'll bring my wife later."

Liu Zhuohao smiled and agreed, "Sure, Uncle, try to come early, I'll remember it."

Apart from the customers who were already eating steak at the stall, everyone else dispersed.

After finishing the last steak, Liu Zhuohao scooped out the remaining pasta, enough for three people, added two eggs, and spread it all over the hot plate before handing it to Huang Weixiong.

"Boss, boss..."

Huang Weixiong swallowed hard, his eyes fixed on the steak. "Why don't you eat it? You've been busy all night. I just handed out dishes and collected money; I didn't do any physical labor."

That's what he said, but his thin clothes were already soaked through.

"It's okay, you eat, don't dawdle." Liu Zhuohao waved his hand, stretched his stiff shoulders, lit a cigarette, and said, "I'll go find something to eat at another stall. After you finish eating, tidy up your stall."

He paused, then added, "Remember, keep it clean, and follow the procedures we've agreed on."

As he spoke, he put his apron and mask, still damp with sweat, aside, deftly took out the SD card from the camera that was full of footage, replaced it with a new one, checked the battery level, and finally placed the camera steadily on Huang Weixiong's head.

To put it bluntly, Liu Zhuohao is already thirty years old; he's not going to compete with this recent graduate for a piece of the pie.

He walked toward a nearby rice noodle roll stall, greeting several customers as he passed by the tables and chairs. When he saw an older customer, he took out his cigarette case.

The person didn't refuse, so he offered them a cigarette.

The person raised their hand in refusal and didn't take it out.

After leaving his stall, Liu Zhuohao walked forward while smoking a cigarette. Occasionally, he would notice that some stall owners were looking at him, but he would silently nod as a greeting.

He knew exactly what kind of stalls were in there.

He had come several times before as a customer, always minding the stall.

But now, Liu Zhuohao is one of them.

"Boss, a bowl of snail rice noodles, please."

Liu Zhuohao arrived at a stall that had been vacated by two empty stalls on either side. There were only a few scattered customers.

Back in his hometown, he prefers to try different flavors rather than the usual local delicacies.

"It's you, Boss Liu."

The boss, who was in his thirties, had a hint of joy on his face from the arrival of business, but when he saw Liu Zhuohao, his face quickly dimmed, leaving only a complicated sigh.

His accent, with its distinctive southwestern regional flavor, was quite unusual in this night market filled with the strong Chaoshan accent.

"I had no business earlier, so I took a look at your place." His voice was almost dripping with bitterness. "It was packed... you were thriving on the first day. Me? Hey, I'm stuck with these few empty chairs every day. You really know how to do business."

"It's alright, it's passable." Liu Zhuohao sensed the bitterness in his voice and simply replied without further explanation.

The boss didn't say anything more, turned around and started cooking the noodles. His movements were quick, but also somewhat resigned.

"Oh right, I forgot to mention I wanted to add..."

Liu Zhuohao finished his cigarette before realizing he hadn't explained himself clearly.

But as soon as he looked up, the bowl of snail rice noodles had already been served.

Liu Zhuohao was slightly taken aback. The bowl was piled high with ingredients: golden and crispy fried eggs, a thick layer of dried bean curd, peanuts, wood ear mushrooms, pickled bamboo shoots... almost every ingredient that could be added had been added.

The boss didn't leave; instead, he sat down on an empty stool across from him.

Liu Zhuohao understood, took one out of the cigarette box, and handed it over.

"This is the last bowl." The owner took it, took a deep drag, and the smoke blurred his tired face. "Tomorrow... I'm not doing this anymore. I'm losing money every day here, I can't keep going."

His face was full of blankness. "I came from Liuzhou, thinking that this stuff is incredibly popular where I live, but you don't have a single one here, so it must be a blue ocean... I didn't expect it to be a dead sea."

That's why he had such a deep impression of Liu Zhuohao, whom he had only met twice.

This was one of his few customers who knew a bit about snail rice noodles and could explain what ingredients to add as soon as he opened his mouth.

For business people, cigarettes are a necessity.

He smokes when he's sad, when he's tired, and when he has nothing to say.

Liu Zhuohao nodded and didn't try to persuade him.

At their age, any decision they make must have been made after careful consideration.

He lowered his head and took a sip of the original soup.

The broth is clear and sweet, with a rich flavor derived from simmering snails and pork bones.

Liu Zhuohao slurped up another mouthful of rice noodles. The rice noodles were smooth and chewy, the dried bean curd was crispy, the peanuts were crunchy, and there was also wood ear fungus...

This bowl of snail rice noodles doesn't have any foul smell, let alone the kind of spicy red oil that's so hot it makes you lose your sense of taste.

As for the pickled cowpeas, they taste quite like the salted vegetables from the Chaoshan region.

He can accept it.

"All I can say is..."

Liu Zhuohao put down his spoon and said softly, "Just bad luck."

He finished the last bite of noodles, drank the soup at the bottom of the bowl, took out his money, and put it on the table.

The owner glanced at it, didn't touch it, and waved his hand: "Last bowl, forget it."

Liu Zhuohao didn't insist and gently placed the remaining half pack of cigarettes on the greasy table.

"Take care of yourself."

Why is my luck so bad?

Because at this time, the snail rice noodles don't smell bad yet!

At that time, snail rice noodles were not yet popular in the country.

Its popularity is still limited to certain regions.