"Manager Li, this isn't about the price. If it were the only memento left to you by your parents, would you be willing to sell it?" Song Nianchu's words left Manager Li speechless.
"Well... it's just a dish. Having it served in our restaurant would allow people from all over to taste it. In a way, it would help spread the story of your parents' deep love," Manager Li, quick-witted as he was, soon found another excuse.
"But Manager Li, you're talking about buying it outright. After that, it wouldn’t belong to our Song family anymore. Those who eat it would only remember the restaurant, not my parents." Song Nianchu wore a wistful expression.
"This..." Manager Li had no reply.
"Manager Li, thank you for your kindness, but I can’t be so unfilial. I’ll take my leave now." Song Nianchu gave a slight nod and turned toward the door.
Sweating anxiously, Manager Li called out just as she reached the exit.
"Then don’t sell it!"
"What?" Song Nianchu’s lips curled slightly, but when she turned back, her eyes were filled with confusion.
"You just don’t want to sell the recipe to anyone else, right?" Manager Li stepped closer.
"Yes." Song Nianchu nodded.
"In that case, let’s not discuss the recipe—only the dish itself." Manager Li spoke gently.
"How would that work? Are you suggesting I prepare the dish at home and deliver it to your restaurant? But wouldn’t that be... profiteering?" Song Nianchu feigned alarm.
"How could it be profiteering? This is a legitimate purchase. Aren’t the ingredients for your fish dish sourced from your village’s catch?" Manager Li waved his hands dismissively.
Song Nianchu nodded.
"If you’re using fish caught by the village, then it’s essentially village property. And if it’s village property, how could this possibly be profiteering?" Manager Li, holding his position, was no stranger to operating in gray areas.
With his connections, as long as he didn’t push things too far, he’d face no consequences.
"Is that so?" Song Nianchu frowned.
"Of course! You saved my uncle’s life, and he adores you. Why would I ever deceive you?" Manager Li tried his best to appear trustworthy.
"How much do you want?" Song Nianchu asked.
"How much can you make in a day?" Seeing her soften, Manager Li pressed eagerly.
"At most, 20 servings a day if I work alone," Song Nianchu replied after a moment’s thought.
"Twenty? That seems a bit low." Manager Li frowned.
"But that’s all I can manage. I still have other work, and scarcity drives value, doesn’t it? If you limit the supply, Manager Li, business might even boom." Song Nianchu spoke as if the idea had just occurred to her.
"That’s brilliant! Why didn’t I think of that?" Manager Li slapped his thigh, eyes gleaming.
"Really? I just heard someone mention it before." Song Nianchu smiled modestly.
In later years, scarcity marketing would become commonplace, but in this era, it was still groundbreaking.
"Nianchu, I’ll order 20 servings a day from you—let’s start with three days." Manager Li didn’t dare commit to more, as new dishes needed market testing.
Some dishes soared in popularity only to fade just as quickly.
"How should we price it?" Song Nianchu inquired.
"My restaurant sells braised carp for one yuan per dish. I’ll price yours the same, but since the restaurant needs profit, I can only pay you 70 cents per serving. What do you think?" Manager Li proposed after some thought.
Song Nianchu lowered her gaze slightly. At 70 cents per serving, after accounting for ingredients and labor, she’d earn about 30 cents per dish.
Twenty servings meant six yuan a day.
If she could sustain this daily, she’d make 180 yuan a month—an astronomical sum for the time.
Yet her face betrayed nothing. She only frowned and said, "The crispy fish recipe uses a lot of expensive ingredients and spices. The cost alone might be 60 or 70 cents per serving."
Having tasted the dish himself, Manager Li knew it was richly seasoned and didn’t doubt her claim.
"But you’d still earn 10 cents per serving—two yuan for 20. If customers love it, I’ll keep ordering daily. That’s 60 yuan a month! Most workers earn just 20 yuan monthly. You’d make three times that." He spelled it out, assuming she might not grasp the math.
"Really? Sixty yuan a month?" Song Nianchu’s eyes sparkled.
Inside, she scoffed. Earlier, he’d tried to buy her recipe outright for just 50 yuan.
Without her experience, she’d have been swindled.
Manager Li smirked, convinced he had her under his thumb. A mere 60 yuan had her dazzled—what a naive girl.
"Nianchu, if you listen to me, I promise you’ll earn even more in the future," he murmured.
"I’ll work hard!" Song Nianchu nodded emphatically.
"Good. Here’s the payment for 20 servings in advance. Deliver them by noon tomorrow." Manager Li walked to his desk, unlocked a drawer, and handed her 14 yuan.
"You’re paying me before I’ve even delivered?" Song Nianchu’s gaze clung to the cash, though she maintained her act.
"Of course I trust you. Besides, making 20 servings will require extra ingredients. Use this to stock up. From now on, payment on delivery." His tone was reassuring.
"Thank you, Manager Li! I won’t let you down!" She took the money, her eyes burning with determination.
"Go prepare." He urged her out.
"Right." Only then did she leave.
Unseen by Manager Li, the moment Song Nianchu turned away, all emotion vanished from her face.
Outside, she rubbed her stiff cheeks.
Playing the role of an innocent girl was exhausting.
She counted the bills. Her entire village used to earn this much in a month—now she’d done it in a day.
This was the thrill of business. If not for the era’s restrictions, she’d have gone all out.
But private enterprise would come eventually. For now, her priority was amassing capital before that day arrived.
Then, she’d seize the market and reclaim her place at the pinnacle of commerce!
