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

Chapter 38: [A Rare 2D Dimension]

"Wow, kid, you actually did it?"

Liu Zhuohao was squatting on the steps at the entrance of the bookstore looking at his phone when he heard the sound and looked up.

The round-faced man from the kueh teow soup stall strolled over, his gaze sweeping back and forth between the brand-new stall next to his hand-pulled pancake stall with surprise. He then glanced at Huang Weixiong, who was wiping down his car, his voice blatantly filled with astonishment:

"You guys didn't take a break during summer vacation? You've already opened a branch? And hired two more staff?"

Liu Zhuohao hadn't even had a chance to respond.

"No, I'm the only employee the boss employs."

Huang Weixiong didn't even look up, wiping the dishcloth in his hand in circles on the food cart table.

He was placing the toppings, such as the crust, vegetables, and eggs, into their designated positions.

When the guests arrive, the muscle memory formed by placing the ingredients in a fixed position when making four pancakes at the same time will greatly improve efficiency.

Next to it, the bookstore owner's nephew's new stall was quiet; the kid was engrossed in his phone, not even glancing up at the commotion.

These days, almost every morning someone asks if the two scallion pancake stalls next to each other are the same, but today the person asking is a fellow professional.

"Then this is..." The kueh teow soup vendor's voice trailed off, his gaze sweeping between the two stalls that were right next to each other but hadn't exchanged a word. He was only halfway through his question when he let out a few words of realization, "Oh, oh oh."

Liu Zhuohao saw the kind of smile on the other person's face that seemed to enjoy watching the drama unfold.

"Being able to afford a helper takes skill."

He continued speaking.

Liu Zhuohao didn't reply, but just smiled, took out a cigarette case from his pocket, flicked one out, and handed it to him.

The morning breeze in the southern coastal region carried the humid heat unique to August. Liu Zhuohao lit a cigarette and squinted as he looked out.

Two months have passed in the blink of an eye. The stalls selling soy milk and fried dough sticks, as well as the stalls selling rice noodle soup, have all returned, and the food street, which had been empty for a month, is bustling with people again.

High school seniors are always forced back to their desks half a month earlier than others.

"Senior, it's been so long since I've had your pancakes."

A mountain bike came to a smooth stop in front of the stall, and the young man said knowingly, "Same as always, with an egg, chicken cutlet, and cheese."

He showed no curiosity whatsoever about Huang Weixiong standing behind the stall, clearly a regular customer and a fan who watched his videos.

Liu Zhuohao stubbed out his cigarette and stood up: "Mind if I let this young apprentice of yours practice? He's a professional chef, much better than me."

He pointed to the somewhat flustered Huang Weixiong, "If he does it, I'll give you an extra sausage for free."

It was only a little past five o'clock, and there was only one customer at the stall. Liu Zhuohao wanted to take advantage of this opportunity to let Huang Weixiong have a real test.

The boy glanced at Huang Weixiong, who was wearing a mask and only had his nervous eyes showing, and nodded: "Okay."

"Come on, Chef Huang, it's up to you." Liu Zhuohao stepped aside, his eyes following Huang Weixiong's hand.

He vaguely sensed that a pair of eyes from another stall next to him were on him, but he didn't pay much attention and just looked at his own employee.

"Come on, try your hand at cooking, Chef Huang."

Liu Zhuohao gratefully cupped his hands in greeting, then looked at the waiter beside him as if entrusting him with something important.

He heated the pan, brushed on the oil, spread out the pancake, cracked the egg... His movements were more efficient than Liu Zhuohao had expected. He flipped the pancake with the spatula without the hesitation of a novice, and there was no smell of burning.

Liu Zhuohao's concerns eased somewhat.

Just a short while later, a few more students arrived, all of them high school seniors who had come early.

Liu Zhuohao asked each person in turn, and those who were willing to let Huang Weixiong try their skills, he stepped aside and just watched.

The first boy hadn't left; he was leaning against the car, eating heartily. When Huang Weixiong handed him the pancake, he chewed a few times, then gave Huang a thumbs up: "Not bad... just a tiny bit less impressive than yours, boss."

Liu Zhuohao smiled, and Huang Weixiong chuckled as well, his eyes shining.

He knew Huang Weixiong could learn it.

How difficult can it be to make a pancake? Huang Weixiong has formal training, and his sensitivity to heat and oil temperature is naturally better than his own haphazard attempts back then.

So what he really wanted to see was whether the waiter's hands would tremble when a real customer was standing in front of him.

When the number of customers increased, Liu Zhuohao stopped asking him to cook, since most of these customers were his fans who recognized him.

As he stood there, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that the brand-new stall next to him was still empty.

The bookstore owner's nephew sat there, the light from his phone screen reflecting on his face.

He still couldn't get a share of the customer traffic.

Although only senior high school students have returned to school and the number of customers is limited, a small queue has already formed in front of Liu Zhuohao's stall.

Even if someone can't wait to leave, they will never go to the same hand-pulled pancake stall next door, but will instead go to the rice noodle roll and kueh teow soup stalls.

This created an awkward situation—the vendors who had left during the holiday had all returned, and some students had also come back, and the whole street was once again crowded with people walking, cycling, and being picked up by their parents.

In such a crowd, the scallion pancake stall next door was like a transparent island, cold and deserted.

It's like I can't see him.

Even when customers lined up right in front of Liu Zhuohao's stall, they still refused to give him any business, despite the stall owner being so close and eager.

"Senior, I saw your video this morning, and it's already over 10,000 views!"

"Wow, really? I saw it was only a little over two thousand yesterday."

"The boss is now a blogger with tens of thousands of followers?"

With a large flow of customers in front of him, Liu Zhuohao no longer paid attention to those around him and responded to each one: "I haven't reached the level of a blogger with 10,000 followers yet, it's just that the number of views has gone up."

"Senior, I saw someone in the comments section saying you used fake beef, so I'm calling them out on your behalf."

"No need to curse, just ignore him." Liu Zhuohao continued working, his tone calm. "My documents are all in order. Let him say whatever he wants. The more you pay attention to these kinds of comments, the more emboldened he becomes. If you leave him alone and no one cares, he'll get anxious..."

"Senior!"

The students, who hadn't been seen for a long time, were exceptionally enthusiastic, their chatter rising and falling like a tide.

Liu Zhuohao's hands never stopped; the shovel scraped rhythmically against the iron plate, his movements fluid and graceful.

Around 7 p.m., the students dispersed, and Liu Zhuohao was just about to catch his breath when several more people gathered around his stall. They were familiar faces, the same office workers who often came during the holidays.

The one leading the group was a man in his early twenties wearing a short-sleeved shirt, with a somewhat helpless, bitter smile on his face. Before he even got close, his complaints came over the louder side:

"Boss, your business is booming! I couldn't even squeeze in just now." He held his phone in his hand. "If a few colleagues hadn't insisted that I help them carry things, I would have turned around and left."

Liu Zhuohao smiled, but his hands didn't slow down: "Same as always, with egg and pork tenderloin, right?"

"I overheard them talking just now, 'Boss, how much do you earn a month as a blogger on Bilibili?'"

The man asked again, seemingly out of unintentional curiosity.

Liu Zhuohao paused slightly as he flipped the pancake, glanced at the other person with surprise, and casually replied:

"You watch Bilibili too?"

This is very rare.

"Of course, I'm practically a part of the anime world, you know. The latest anime..." the man chuckled, "Have you seen Tokyo Ghoul?"