Zhu Meiqun chose to set up a wonton stall at the school entrance, a new venture after trying other paths.
Selling roasted sweet potatoes was indeed low-cost and had a low barrier to entry, seemingly something anyone could do. But after some time, Zhu Meiqun found that the money earned from selling roasted sweet potatoes wasn’t as much as she had hoped.
It was enough to scrape by, but to rely on it to buy a house for Wen Kai, she’d have to sell until the end of time. These days, roasted sweet potatoes weren’t as pricey as they would be years later, and besides, eating too many caused bloating. People would buy them occasionally as a treat, but not for every meal.
Earning money.
But not earning enough.
After deducting costs and daily expenses, the actual profit wasn’t much higher than Zhu Meiqun’s factory wages.
It was a bit more money, but far more exhausting than her job. The factory had holidays, but running her own business meant no income if she took a day off. How could Zhu Meiqun not feel anxious?
And in the future, she’d have to cover her own social security. When she calculated it, going back to her job seemed better!
Uncle Wen didn’t blame his wife and even gave Zhu Meiqun an out, suggesting she return to her job. If business were that easy, wouldn’t everyone be a big boss?
Having tried and failed, she could only pinch pennies.
Uncle Wen considered taking on another job if it came to it, working one during the day and another at night, like driving a taxi on the night shift.
Zhu Meiqun naturally couldn’t agree to that.
Who could keep working day and night without rest? Night-shift drivers needed to sleep during the day!
Zhu Meiqun told her husband she wanted to try again.
If roasted sweet potatoes didn’t earn enough, what about selling something else?
As for what to sell, Zhu Meiqun thought it over for days.
At first, she considered selling steamed buns, noodles, soy milk, or fried dough sticks.
For such snacks, you either sold early in the morning or late at night.
Morning sales targeted breakfast, while evening sales were for midnight snacks.
Chengdu people loved to have fun, and some night owls would stumble out of bars or clubs in the early hours, half-drunk, looking for a late-night bite, known locally as “ghost food.”
Both breakfast and ghost food markets were highly competitive and exhausting. Zhu Meiqun tried making steamed buns for two days, waking up early to knead dough, but her bun-making skills were poor. The buns were unsightly and didn’t sell. Zhu Meiqun stood by a pile of ugly buns, wanting to cry.
Doing business wasn’t as easy as she’d imagined!
Wen Changlin, the third son of the Wen family, visited his sister-in-law and tried her buns, looking troubled.
The filling’s flavor was decent, but the dough was truly bad. With practice, Zhu Meiqun’s bun-making skills would improve, but she was in a hurry!
Zhu Meiqun was desperate to earn money.
Though the family had some savings and wasn’t scraping by, Zhu Meiqun felt an invisible whip lashing at her back.
While selling roasted sweet potatoes, she rode her tricycle around, checking housing prices in Chengdu’s districts.
New flats with lifts were, of course, very expensive.
Buildings without lifts were also costly, but not as unattainable as Zhu Meiqun had thought.
If she lowered her expectations for the floor and size, there might be hope to buy a flat for her son Wen Kai in the provincial capital!
Zhu Meiqun was anxious.
Wherever she went, she heard the same thing: Chengdu’s housing prices would keep rising. So she was anxious, anxious that her earnings couldn’t keep up with the soaring prices!
People don’t know their limits until pushed, and Zhu Meiqun probably used her brain more after arriving in Chengdu than in her entire life before. After failing a few times, she decided to sell wontons.
Wontons weren’t as filling as buns or noodles, smaller even than Chengdu’s local “chaoshou,” but they had advantages. Making wontons wasn’t as complex as making buns, and with practice, Zhu Meiqun could wrap them quickly. From boiling to serving, it didn’t take long.
One bite at a time, a bowl of wontons was gone before you knew it. In winter, sipping a bowl of hot soup with seaweed and dried shrimp warmed you through!
The wonton business did well, and Zhu Meiqun found a fixed street to set up her stall. She didn’t abandon the roasted sweet potato business either, keeping it on the side since it didn’t interfere, mainly because she hadn’t found anyone to take over her sweet potato equipment and didn’t want to waste money.
The stall’s location was strategic. In the mornings, Zhu Meiqun didn’t set up near the university, as students either ate at the canteen or skipped breakfast. She’d sell elsewhere in the morning and come to the university in the afternoon.
Today, her wonton stall was especially busy. Someone ordered dozens of bowls at once, and Zhu Meiqun scrambled, fearing she’d lose the big order.
Luckily, the customer seemed patient and didn’t go to other stalls, even asking if Zhu Meiqun would be there daily.
“Of course I’ll be here!”
“Great, then we’ll come to you for wontons these next few days.”
The crew manager noticed Zhu Meiqun’s stall was clean, unlike some greasy temporary setups. Since they had to buy from someone, why not this clean one?
“Wonderful, wonderful…”
Zhu Meiqun was thrilled.
The crew manager was pleased too, as everyone at the filming site raved about the wontons.
The manager tried them and thought they were just ordinary.
So why did everyone say they were delicious?
Watching the lead actress, Li Mengjiao, finish her bowl and lean toward Wen Ying, seemingly wanting to try hers, the manager knew the answer:
The person treating made all the difference!
Having worked on many sets, the manager knew that the screenwriter for *Galaxy and You* held the highest status. Some screenwriters were pitiful, constantly forced to revise scripts by directors or leads, but *Galaxy and You* had been revised only by Wen Ying herself for perfection, not under anyone’s pressure.
So Wen Ying didn’t need to be on set often, yet tales of “Big Boss Wen” filled the site.
…
Big Boss Wen enjoyed great respect on set but was an obedient high schooler at home.
While her parents were home, Wen Ying mentioned meeting Aunt Zhu Meiqun:
“I think Aunt’s business is doing pretty well!”
Treating the crew to wontons was a bonus for Zhu Meiqun. Even without Wen Ying’s help, her business would thrive.
Chen Ru was surprised.
Zhu Meiqun hadn’t asked Chen Ru or Wen Dongrong for help.
Chen Ru glanced at Wen Dongrong, who looked deeply offended, “What’s that look? I really haven’t secretly helped Big Sis!”
Even if he wanted to, how could he?
His wages were all handed over.
With the “tribute” money from shady deals?
Whether Zhu Meiqun could make her small business work in Chengdu had nothing to do with money. She wasn’t short of capital!
Wen Dongrong’s feelings were complex.
There was a hint of disappointment at not being asked for help, yet an indescribable pride.
Because the Wen family hadn’t sought his aid and had settled in Chengdu on their own, Wen Dongrong’s long-lost confidence as the family head began to resurface!
