The food stall vendors were a bit bewildered. What day was it, and why was there such a large turnout of custors?
Approaching noon, the walkway was packed. Most of these people were queueing before Jiang Feng’s stall, and he was so surrounded by custors he could barely move.
It’s all back, everything’s back. This damned feeling of being overworked!
His ntality had always been good; as long as custors ca and he had ingredients, he would get to work. After all, choosing to run a stall ant putting in the effort.
Today’s specials were fried sauce noodles, shaved noodles, and stewed noodles.
Most custors opted for the fried sauce noodles, as it was Jiang Feng’s signature dish. His technique for making the fried bean paste sauce was unique, and it tasted extrely good. Many people couldn’t resist the temptation.
Quite a few people ordered shaved noodles as well. When soone ordered shaved noodles, Jiang Feng would ask the next few people in line if they also wanted them. That way, he could prepare four bowls at once, speeding up custor turnover.
The stove area buzzed with activity. Jiang Feng worked the knife through the dough at lightning speed.
Many custors held up their phones, recording Jiang Feng make noodles. His seemingly magical skills made people exclaim, "This is what you call professionalism!"
"Boss, a serving of shaved noodles!"
"Executive Chef Jiang, a serving of fried sauce noodles!"
"Finally, I’ve found you!"
The regulars’ faces bead with joy.
At this mont, a regular placing an order with Jiang Feng earnestly suggested, "Executive Chef Jiang, your pork buns are really tasty. Why don’t you make buns in the morning and sell fried sauce noodles at noon? That would surely be profitable."
Jiang Feng kept a smile on his face, but inwardly he thought:
You’re trying to work to death! Making buns in the morning ans getting up at 3 a.m. After selling those, I’d have to co here, prepare ingredients, at sauce, and at fillings to sell noodles at noon. Sell until after two, then head ho. Then I’d have to buy at for the next day’s buns and chop it into filling in advance. That’s not even counting ti to eat or use the restroom. Sleep for a bit, then get up at 3 a.m. again to make more buns? Even a workhorse from a production team wouldn’t be this tired!
Therefore, Jiang Feng just smiled without saying a word. There was no way to respond to that.
The number of regulars kept growing. Soon, the line of custors on the walkway grew even longer.
Seeing the unending stream of custors, Jiang Feng could only speed up his noodle-making. It felt like an impossible task, with no end in sight. He could only hope the number of custors would decrease after two o’clock. Perhaps after completing the last batch of orders, he could finally finish work.
So custors ca specifically for Jiang Feng’s stall, intending to grab lunch. But seeing the crowd and the long wait, many chose other stalls instead.
Thankfully, there were plenty of other specialty foods available, such as potstickers, rice noodle rolls, savory stir-fry pots, savory tofu pudding, zongzi, and the like. These stalls also saw an increase in custors.
Very quickly, the prepared fried bean paste sauce at Jiang Feng’s stall ran out. He had to fetch fresh pork and make a new batch on the spot.
At that mont, Jiang Feng wished he had eight hands, so he could make sauce, shave noodles, arrange bowls, and chop green onions and garlic simultaneously.
While he was making the sauce, several custors gathered around the stall, watching him intently.
This damned enthusiasm!
Jiang Feng didn’t look back at them; he had so introverted tendencies.
Soon, the aroma of at wafted from the pot.
During a brief lull, he shouted to the line, "The fried bean paste sauce will take a while to cook. Those of you further back can try other stalls. It’s slower here."
Jiang Feng glanced at the line; there were still many people. He had to return and continue cooking.
Before long, Jyang Xu, the manager of the food court, heard about the situation and hurried over.
Upon arrival, he saw the line stretched from the entrance of the food court, spilling into the mall’s corridor.
"What the heck is going on?" Jyang Xu exclaid in surprise. He quickly made his way into the food court to investigate.
He saw a long line beginning at Jiang Feng’s stall, winding back and forth until it trailed outside the food court. All other seats were also full.
Normally, business at Juxing Shopping Mall’s food court was neither too good nor too bad—just average. During peak dining tis, it was usually crowded, but never so packed that you couldn’t find a seat. But today was different; there was a huge crowd, as far as the eye could see.
Since when did it get so busy here? Are all these people lining up for that one stall?
Jyang Xu squeezed through the crowd. He found another stall owner and inquired, "What’s going on? Why are there so many people?"
The stall owner replied, "Manager Jiang, those are all custors specifically here for noodles. The new noodle vendor, the one selling fried sauce noodles, is quite famous online. I only just found out myself. He always has long queues whenever he sets up his stall. Moreover, whatever he sells each ti, it all tastes exceptionally good. Online, people call him Executive Chef Jiang. They’re all here because of his reputation."
Hearing this, Jyang Xu turned to look at Jiang Feng’s noodle stall. He was sowhat surprised.
Is this guy really that amazing? Can a simple food stall get this popular? I thought he was young, a newbie even. Turns out he’s not a newbie, but a master?
Jyang Xu looked towards the front of Jiang Feng’s stall. Indeed, it was teeming with people.
The food court needed this kind of custor flow. With high custor turnout, businesses would do well, profits would increase, and rent could be raised. This is also why many shopping malls offer rent waivers to big brands—their stores bring in traffic that attracts other custors.
Jyang Xu considered asking Jiang Feng to set up his stall here permanently, offering him free rent and even the best stall location.
However, Jiang Feng didn’t need a fixed stall location. The manager of Shuize Resort had previously approached Jiang Feng with an offer, which he had politely declined.
At this mont, the line reached Zhang Xinya and her father, Zhang Dashan. Zhang Xinya was very pretty and carried herself with an easy grace—a delightful sight.
"Executive Chef Jiang, my dad and I are here too!" Zhang Xinya greeted Jiang Feng. "We’ve been looking for you for ages! You changed locations and didn’t even tell us."
Jiang Feng could only smile and respond, "Welco."
He now planned not to reveal his stall’s location. His work wasn’t so difficult that he couldn’t manage with the regular flow of custors. That way, he could also relax a bit. Otherwise, dealing with a scene like this was really challenging.
"We’d like two bowls of fried sauce noodles, one large and one small," Zhang Xinya added.
"Alright, please wait a mont." Jiang Feng handed them a number and went to the stove to prepare their fried sauce noodles.
There were indeed many regulars today: residents from Hongshan Park, tourists from Shuize Resort, and young hikers from Fengqi Mountain. Since the food he made was delicious, it was naturally highly sought after.
The broth in the pot kept boiling. The custors outside bustled. Jiang Feng was deeply focused on preparing noodles. The scene was bustling.
The neighboring stall owners looked at Jiang Feng with envy. But there was no helping it; his food was just that tasty.
At this very mont, Officer Ma Ran from the Criminal Investigation Brigade and Zhang Cheng, a local police officer on loan to the publicity departnt, were happily eating their noodles. After such a long wait, they had finally gotten them.
Ma Ran ate eagerly. After a few bites, he started observing the custors in line. As a young police officer long involved in criminal investigation, he had great passion and enthusiasm for cases.
While eating, he suddenly spotted a sowhat familiar face in the line. Ma Ran subtly shifted his gaze away. He then rembered: the man looked like a wanted fugitive, a fraudster.
"Zhang Cheng, we have a situation," Ma Ran whispered.
Although Zhang Cheng worked in the publicity departnt, as a local officer, he had seen his share of situations. "What’s wrong?" he replied.
"That guy over there is a wanted fugitive. Get ready to help arrest him."
"Huh? Oh, alright!"
"Let’s finish eating first. Don’t spook him."
"No problem."
The two wolfed down their noodles, quickly finishing them.
Then, they approached the wanted man, and Ma Ran cautiously asked, "You’re Zhao Fu, right?"
Hearing Ma Ran, Zhao Fu’s face changed. Like a startled bird, he imdiately bolted. But with the dense crowd behind him, he couldn’t sprint. The next second, Ma Ran and Zhang Cheng tackled him to the ground.
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