Agent Yi Leng-Chapter 27: The Chef’s Ambition
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He took his ID card to the bank across the street to open an account. Every morning, a large number of retirees gathered in the bank to deposit or withdraw money, seemingly never tiring of it. They wouldn’t use the ATMs even if you showed them how. The lobby was packed, and a security guard in a gray uniform with a baton at his waist stood by the ticket machine, handing
Yi Leng
a ticket with an expressionless face—number 159, with 120 people ahead of him.
The bank had five windows, but only three were open. At each window sat an elderly person with white hair. One old lady took three minutes to fumble through her bag for her reading glasses and another three minutes to pull out her card, only to realize she had grabbed her social security card by mistake.
At this rate, nothing would get done all morning.
Yi Leng
scanned the rows of chairs in the lobby. Some were knitting, others were soothing children, and one even held a Chihuahua. Most of them were people with free time who didn’t work, and there certainly weren’t 120 people waiting. This meant many had taken a number and then given up.
Yi Leng’s
gaze fell on the wastebasket, where he spotted discarded ticket stubs. Number 138—21 spots ahead. He dug further and found even earlier numbers. He stepped outside the bank and scanned the parking lot. If someone had driven here, they’d likely leave if the wait was too long, tossing their ticket stub as they got into their car. Sure enough, he spotted a crumpled piece of paper. Unfolding it, he saw it was number 55.
The bank’s automated voice called out, “Number 55, please proceed to counter 4.”
Yi Leng
hurried back inside and sat down at the window. Across from him was a middle-aged female teller who looked exhausted. She was efficient, barely lifting her eyelids as she worked.
Yi Leng
had filled out the forms in advance, saving her time. As expected, the bank card was issued without a hitch. Ever the innovator,
Yi Leng
also signed up for online banking.
Next, he went to a nearby China Unicom store to get a new SIM card. Returning to the bank, he noticed the iron gate next door was tightly shut, with traces of smoke and fire still visible. This was the site of a fire half a month ago. The third floor, home to the
Juyou Internet Café
, had suffered the most damage. The second-floor mahjong parlor was slightly better off but had also been affected and was now closed. Only the bank on the first floor remained unscathed.
Standing at the bank’s entrance,
Yi Leng
looked out at the bustling traffic on
Meigang Road
. The cars moved slowly due to a nearby intersection, where traffic lights and crosswalks forced vehicles to slow down.
Across the street was a row of low-rise storefronts, among them
Yumei Restaurant
, nestled between the others. These buildings were temporary structures, originally built to hide the vacant lot behind them after a demolition project. The land was supposed to be developed, but the company went bankrupt, leaving the lot abandoned. The temporary storefronts, however, remained. The back door of the restaurant opened into a narrow alley, separated by a wall from the overgrown vacant lot, now a haven for stray cats and dogs.
An idea began to form in
Yi Leng’s
mind. With only six tables, the restaurant couldn’t grow much. They needed to expand. The location of
Yumei Restaurant
was good, so the new place couldn’t be too far—within a hundred meters at most.
Many of their daily customers were regulars, loyal patrons. The challenge was keeping them entertained and comfortable while they waited for a table.
Yi Leng
crossed the street and entered
Yan Aihua’s
beauty salon. There were no customers inside, and
Yan Aihua
was idly watching an episode of
Bright Sword
on the wall-mounted TV.
“Old Huang, you’re here,”
Yan Aihua
said without turning her head, extending a hand filled with sunflower seeds.
Yi Leng
took the seeds and started cracking them as he spoke. “I want to discuss something with you.”
Yan Aihua
cut him off. “If
Wu Yumei
sent you, forget it. I’m not selling my shop.”
Yi Leng
shook his head. “You’ve got it wrong. I’m proposing a partnership. When customers at my restaurant have to wait for a table, they can come sit in your shop. I’ll give them a coupon—either for a haircut or a wash. The coupon’s face value will be double the normal price, but when they pay, they’ll only be charged half. What do you think?”
Yan Aihua
didn’t get it at first, but after a moment, she slapped her thigh. “You’re bringing me customers! That’s genius!”
Her salon had been struggling because it gave customers the wrong impression. From the outside, it looked like a place for fun, but inside, it was just a regular hair salon. It was stuck in an awkward position—too low-end for high-paying clients but too expensive for the budget-conscious. Ten yuan for a haircut wasn’t going to cut it.
But the customers
Yi Leng
would bring were different. They’d be bored waiting anyway, and a free haircut coupon would be a nice perk. Even a quick trim or a wash would feel like a treat. They’d get value, the restaurant would keep its customers, and
Yan Aihua
would make money. It was a win-win-win.
“Sit down, let me wash your hair,”
Yan Aihua
said.
“Which head?”
Yi Leng
quipped, channeling his inner sleazy uncle.
“Which one do you want washed?”
Yan Aihua
shot back, unfazed. The room was warm from the electric heater, and her leopard-print top clung tightly to her figure, showing not an ounce of fat on her stomach. Her expression seemed to say, “I’ve got a deck of cards at my waist, ready to play with anyone.”
On the TV,
Li Yunlong
was saying with his usual bravado, “Think of a way to fire a shot.” The atmosphere in the room grew warm and suggestive.
Xiao Hong’s
face flashed by the door.
Yi Leng
, who had just sat down, quickly stood up. Sure enough, less than half a minute later,
Wu Yumei
walked in, feigning surprise. “Oh, you’re here. I hope I’m not interrupting.”
Yi Leng
said, “Didn’t you send me here? We’ve already worked it out. It’s a win-win partnership to keep customers.”
He then laid out the plan in detail. Though
Wu Yumei
was jealous, she had to admit
Yi Leng’s
idea was clever and feasible. But this was only a temporary solution. For long-term growth, they needed to expand.
Yi Leng
spoke confidently, starting with feng shui. Two hundred meters south was the intersection of
Meigang Road
and
Chuantai Road
. Heading east on
Chuantai Road
led to the shipyard, while going north on
Meigang Road
led to the port. The area was a hub of activity, attracting wealth, but the traffic slowed down at the intersection, helping to retain that wealth. It was a prime location. However, taking over the entire row of storefronts wasn’t ideal. The shops were too shallow, and having too many entrances would leak the wealth energy.
Everyone was captivated by his seemingly nonsensical explanation, waiting to hear more.
“It’s simple. We’ll knock down the walls and set up a canopy in the vacant lot behind,”
Yi Leng
said.
“You mean that empty lot?”
Wu Yumei
asked. “Is that even possible? That land’s been sitting there for years. If it were usable, someone would’ve taken it by now.”
“Exactly,”
Yan Aihua
chimed in, though her actions betrayed her words. She naturally stood behind
Yi Leng
, massaging his shoulders, which only annoyed
Wu Yumei
more.
“Who cares? Let’s just do it. That lot is like an unfinished building—a product of tangled debts and unclear ownership. That’s why it’s been left alone. We’re just setting up a temporary canopy. It’s not illegal construction. If there’s trouble, we’ll just grease a few palms,”
Yi Leng
explained.
Wu Yumei
nodded. “But that’s not a long-term solution.”
Yi Leng
said, “It’s just a stopgap to solve our immediate problems. For long-term development, we need a proper location. I’ve already scoped out
Meigang Road 178
, across the street. We’ll take all three floors.”
Wu Yumei
said, “You’re talking about the Industrial and Commercial Bank, right? You think you can just make the bank move out for you?”
Yi Leng
said, “You haven’t been paying attention. The
ICB Meigang Road Branch
is about to relocate. The building wasn’t designed for a bank. The walls don’t have enough steel reinforcement, and with so many retirees in the area, their deposit capacity is limited. They’re using too many resources. Relocation is inevitable.”
Wu Yumei
still didn’t believe him. “Where are they moving to?”
Yi Leng
said, “The new ICB building on
Chuantai Road
is already finished. The sign’s up, and once the interior is done and aired out, they’ll move. So we need to act fast. The second and third floors were damaged in the fire, so the price will be low. We can take them over, do some basic renovations, and have space for a hundred tables.”
Wu Yumei
was thrilled. “Then we’ll really strike it rich. How many servings of
Big Red Robe
can we sell in a day?”
Yi Leng
said, “We won’t be doing
Big Red Robe
anymore. That’s more for show. Those specialty dishes rely on decades of reputation and nostalgia, but they don’t make big money. To really profit, we need to follow business principles. This summer, we’ll focus on crayfish. Once we secure the new space, we’ll switch to barbecue or hotpot. Those require fewer skilled chefs.”
Wu Yumei
said, “But customers come for the chef’s skills. They’re here for
Huang Pihu’s
reputation.”
Yi Leng
said, “Old ways of thinking don’t have to stay the same. I’m not
Sun Wukong
; I can’t split myself into a hundred clones. One chef can’t handle a hundred tables. We need to break out of this mindset. What we’re offering isn’t just food—it’s service.”
“Service at a restaurant?”
Wu Yumei
was puzzled. This was beyond her understanding, but her trust in
Yi Leng
made her believe it could work.
The small meeting ended there. The final decision would depend on the investor,
Ali
, who had put in 500,000 yuan. Without a bold plan and a proper presentation, they’d be wasting that money.
By evening, customers started arriving.
Yi Leng
was coming out of the kitchen when he nearly bumped into a woman. He looked up and saw someone extraordinary—a tall woman in her forties, about 1.7 meters, with gray eyes, fair skin, a high nose bridge, and fiery red hair. Though her beauty had faded with age, her bold and spirited demeanor remained.
“The bathroom’s over there,”
Yi Leng
said.
The woman didn’t respond and walked straight into the kitchen.
Yi Leng
followed, his peripheral vision glancing at the cleaver on the chopping board.
Meanwhile,
Xiao Hong
rushed to
Wu Yumei
to tattle. “Boss, there’s a foreign woman here looking for
Old Huang
.”
Chapter 27: The Chef’s Ambition
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