Running a Food Stall to Support My Deceptive Omega - Chapter 8

“You ate it all? You finished all that noodles?”

Mu Jinyu picked up the bowl in disbelief and tipped it upside down. Not a single drop of soup fell out; it was as clean as could be.

Her gaze fell upon Rong Heng’s stomach, trying to see if there were any visible changes. How could that belly possibly hold twenty bowls of noodles?

The warm sun was gentle. Rong Heng, having eaten and drunk her fill, let out a burp. Sensing the other woman’s gaze, she immediately covered her stomach with both hands and took several wary steps backward.

Her posture seemed to say: What goes into my stomach is mine; don’t even think about taking it back.

“I really don’t know how long you were starved to be able to eat so much.”

“Well, it’s fine. At least it didn’t go to waste.”

After tasting twenty bowls herself, Mu Jinyu was actually quite full. If Rong Heng hadn’t finished them, they truly would have been wasted.

Besides, the fact that Rong Heng could eat so many bowls at once proved that her noodles were delicious, didn’t it?

With such an enthusiastic supporter, Mu Jinyu felt a surge of confidence in her “Knock-fish” noodles, and a smile crept onto her face.

“In the future, whatever else I make, you’re not allowed to be picky either.”

Mu Jinyu reflexively stacked the twenty bowls on the stove and placed them into a large wooden basin. She drew water from the well and began to wash them.

As she scrubbed, she thought happily to herself: Since I’ve already found the right fish, why not just strike while the iron is hot and set up the stall?

She didn’t have much else to prepare anyway. Every day she delayed was another day of anxiety. It was better to start the stall early and solve problems as they came.

With that thought, Mu Jinyu finished the dishes with a splash, wiped her hands dry, and said to Rong Heng, “I’m going out again. You stay home and behave yourself.”

Without a moment’s pause, she hurried out the door.

The place where they lived belonged to the backstreets of the Night Market.

Because of its proximity to the main street, most of the vendors and shop owners from the Night Market lived here. However, the main street of the Night Market was the true heart of the clamor.

There, the entire street was lined with small stalls on both sides—drinks, pastries, sugar paintings, fish lanterns—everything one could want to eat or play with was available.

Sometimes, refined scholars and beauties would stand on the small bridges, reciting poetry to the clear sky and green river. It was incredibly elegant.

On ordinary days, as soon as dusk fell, the Night Market would become a boiling pot of human activity. If it happened to be the Lantern Festival, the Qixi Festival, or the Mid-Autumn Festival, the street would become so packed with people that it was virtually impassable!

The main street was very close to Mu Jinyu’s home; she reached it just by turning a corner. During the day, the area was quiet and desolate, with only two rows of empty stalls sitting along the roadside.

Guided by memory, Mu Jinyu walked to the spot belonging to her family’s stall.

The business run by the original owner’s mothers must have been truly successful; the stall occupied a large area, about twice the size of the neighboring plots.

The stalls were public property. The vendors and owners in the Night Market rented these stalls from the local authorities. The better the business, the larger the stall one would rent.

The design of the stall was somewhat like the pushcarts Mu Jinyu had seen in her previous life. There was a small canopy over the cart; while it couldn’t block the wind, it was enough to keep out the rain. A simple stove was built into the base of the cart, making it easy to start a fire for cooking.

Looking around, she saw that almost all the stalls in the Night Market shared this design. She had to admit that even a simple place for selling food contained great practical wisdom.

After confirming the location of her stall, Mu Jinyu rushed back home to the storage room to take inventory of what her mothers had left behind.

The pots, slotted spoons, and other utensils they had used specifically for selling fried small fish were still sitting there, undamaged.

Mu Jinyu weighed them in her hand and decided she could use them. She planned to bring them over to the pushcart once darkness fell.

The storage room didn’t have tables or chopsticks, only seven or eight stools and a large pile of oil paper.

It made sense; fried fish was a snack you could wrap in paper and eat while walking. Even if a customer wanted to finish before leaving, a stool was enough. They hardly needed tables.

But Mu Jinyu was selling noodles. Setting aside whether it was proper for customers to eat noodles while walking, the oil paper simply couldn’t be used to hold them.

She had to use bowls.

She had about twenty bowls at home, which should be enough, but she couldn’t exactly let the customers walk away with the bowls, could she?

It seemed she needed to buy a few tables so customers could sit down and eat.

With this in mind, Mu Jinyu hurried out again, planning to check the prices of tables.

Seeing her close the courtyard gate once more, Rong Heng, who had been following her around in circles, stood dazed by the gate. She didn’t go play, nor did she sit down; she just stood there, staring at the door.

Mu Jinyu arrived at a furniture shop. There were many tables inside—square, round, octagonal, and even folding ones.

But the prices were all exceptionally high.

Mu Jinyu couldn’t afford anything exquisite. She just needed a basic table—a wooden board with four legs.

The shop had them, but the price was anything but basic; it cost nearly two hundred wen for a single table.

Startled by the price, Mu Jinyu hurriedly left the shop. Standing on the street, she looked left and right, momentarily at a loss for where to go.

Was there nowhere else to buy a table?

After some thought, she decided she could ask at a lumber yard. Perhaps there was a carpenter there who could make such a thing.

No sooner said than done. Mu Jinyu rushed to the lumber yard. Before she even entered, she saw piles of wood stacked outside. Sawdust drifted through the air.

She asked the owner about making tables.

Amidst the screeching sound of wood being sawed, the owner shouted, “You’ve come to the right person! I can do it! I can do it!”

“How big do you want them? What kind of wood? When do you need them?”

Mu Jinyu shouted back, “Not too big, just enough for two bowls. The wood doesn’t need to be good—the cheaper the better!”

She had been spooked by the earlier price of several hundred wen per table, fearing that the prices here would also be astronomical. She didn’t have much silver left, and she still had to buy more fish later. Every copper had to be counted.

“Sure thing. Cheap wood… this piece! Fifty wen! It’s enough to make four or five tables about this size.” The owner gestured with his hands to show the size.

Mu Jinyu felt it was reasonable and nodded.

The owner added, “Labor is thirty wen. When do you want them? If you’re in a hurry, I can have them ready by dinner time. But let’s be clear—no sanding, no lacquer.”

The lack of sanding and lacquer didn’t matter. Mu Jinyu was only buying them for an emergency. Once she made money, she would certainly upgrade to better ones.

With that decided, she nodded and paid the owner a portion of the silver as a deposit before leaving.

Next, she went to buy a bundle of chopsticks, then took a detour to the meat market, intending to buy a few more fish so she could start her stall tonight.

As she walked, she felt like she was floating on air. She couldn’t help but feel a flutter of excitement—she was actually going to start a business!

“Hey, Little Mu, you’re back?”

It was now several hours past noon, and business at the fish stall wasn’t as brisk as it had been in the morning. The fish vendor was standing by a wooden basin filled with water, counting how many fish she had left. She spotted Mu Jinyu walking toward her stall at a glance.

Mu Jinyu offered a smile and greeted her, “Sister, I’d like to buy a few more of those fish that cost twenty-five wen a pound.”

The fish vendor beamed at being called “Sister,” feeling a bit bashful. “Oh, why call me sister? I’m old enough to be your auntie.”

“You want the twenty-five wen fish?” The fish vendor pointed to the empty wooden basin. “That kind is tasty; it’s always the first to sell out.”

“If you want some, I’ll set a few aside for you tomorrow.”

Mu Jinyu followed the vendor’s finger. Sure enough, the basin was empty; there was nothing left.

Mu Jinyu, who had been floating and joyful just a moment ago, suddenly crashed back to reality.

To say she was disappointed would be an understatement.