Chapter 41 - Chapter 41: Chapter 041 Thunderstorm (1/2)

Chapter 41: Chapter 041 Thunderstorm

Translator: 549690339

Feng Yongkang had said that when the entrance is clean and tidy, customers perceive the restaurant as clean and would be willing to patronize. The wealth god doesn’t patronize dirty places. That was what he meant.

“Huh?” Li Fang was startled by the sudden conversation, and was terrified. His face was increasingly pinched, and fearing others might see something amiss, he repeatedly waved his hands, “No, no, I guess I didn’t cover myself properly while sleeping last night and caught a chill. My stomach… it hurts so much now…”

“Um, could you help me keep an eye on things? The pain is so intense, I need to go to the pharmacy at the corner to get some medicine.”

Upon seeing Li Fang’s grimacing face, Ma Tong hurriedly said, “Hurry up. This is exactly what you should fear in the spring. Better to take some medicine and prevent it from developing into a serious illness. I will keep an eye on things here. Go.”

“Thanks a lot, brother.” Li Fang expressed his gratitude to Ma Tong with a glance, handed him the cleaning cloth, and then quickly rushed off.

He headed towards the corner of the street, but instead of entering the pharmacy, he disappeared down a small alleyway.

Ma Tong caught a glimpse of this and smirked, the broom in his hand making swooshing sounds.

Stomachache? It was nothing but bad intentions.

These kinds of people were deserving of divine retribution.

Ma Tong cursed in his heart, glanced at Zhuang Qingning’s tofu stall and sighed.

She was indeed at fault here. A few coins could have solved everything, but instead, things were blown out of proportion. If the tofu stall can’t continue doing business, he wouldn’t know what to do.

Zhuang Qingning was oblivious to all this, happily selling her tofu.

Business was good today. By the looks of it, the extra twenty pounds of tofu she had prepared would surely sell out before noon.

As she saw the last block of tofu in her bamboo basket, weighing about three or four pounds, Chai Zhengzhen, a tall, slender man in his thirties, hurried over, “Do you still have tofu?”

Having said that, he wiped the sweat off his forehead.

He was obviously in a rush.

“This is the last piece.” Zhuang Qingning efficiently weighed the tofu, “It’s three taels over three pounds. It’s the last piece. I’ll sell it for two coins.”

“You are good at business, but this over three pounds is definitely not enough…” Chai Zhengzhen furrowed his eyebrows, finally, he released a resigned sigh: “Well, let it be, even this little is enough.”

“Tomorrow I need twenty pounds of tofu, can I pay upfront and come to get it later?”

“I’m afraid not. The tofu sold at my stall is bought directly, and unless there are special circumstances, we usually don’t take pre-orders,” Zhuang Qingning tactfully declined.