Chapter Thirty: The Madman in the Hospital

“You’re opening a barbecue restaurant? That’s great! We’ll finally have a place to eat,” Qi Kun said, his mouth full of grilled meat.

Yang Meng shot him a look. “Don’t think you can slack off. All of you will invest and work at the restaurant, you’ll each have a share.”

Hearing this, Qi Kun and Hu Er Leng both put down their skewers and looked at Yang Meng. They’d heard what Ma Fengying had said earlier. They weren’t foolish; just from today’s barbecue, it was clear this was a money-making venture. They wanted to chip in, but felt embarrassed to bring it up—now Yang Meng was offering it himself.

Qi Kun laughed, “Alright, I’ll be your barbecue worker from now on.”

Yang Meng teased, “No problem being a barbecue helper, but you can’t sneak food anymore—three hundred pounds is enough!”

Qi Kun patted his stomach. “Isn’t living about eating well and dressing warmly? I’ll always eat when I can! But what about Er Leng? Ask if he’s willing to give up his fancy clothes. Can he parade around in a suit every day?”

Hu Er Leng retorted, “Can I be the floor manager? I can still wear a suit.”

Qi Kun raised his middle finger to Hu Er Leng’s face. “Keep dreaming! So, how much do we each need to invest if we join?”

Hu Er Leng also looked at Yang Meng, concerned about the same issue.

Yang Meng glanced at Ma Fengying; he was just a delivery man, not versed in these matters.

Ma Fengying asked, “Yang, how big do you want the barbecue place to be?”

Yang Meng thought for a moment and asked back, “The bigger it is, the more we earn, right?”

Ma Fengying nodded. “In theory, yes. But the risks are higher—the investment is much bigger.”

Yang Meng asked, “So, Ma, let’s suppose we open a big place, like a two-story storefront. How much would that cost?”

Ma Fengying pursed her lips. “That’s a big investment—about a million.”

“So much?” Qi Kun exclaimed.

Ma Fengying nodded. “Take the two-story place across the street. The yearly rent alone is three or four hundred thousand. Add in renovations, promotions, hiring staff, operating expenses—it’s hard to say if a million would be enough.”

Yang Meng began calculating silently. Hu Er Leng blurted out, “Meng Meng, you’re not really thinking of opening something that big, are you? Even if we all sold ourselves, we couldn’t scrape together that much. That’s way too much for us! Maybe ‘Lobster’ has some savings, but I can only put up fifty thousand.”

They were migrant workers, sending money home each month, with little saved. Coming up with a million for a barbecue restaurant was pure fantasy.

Qi Kun said, “I can only put up fifty thousand myself. You know my uncle’s been ill for years—Madman can’t shoulder it all. Speaking of Madman, you don’t even need to ask; his pockets are emptier than his face. Maybe we should start small, build up funds, and then expand?”

Yang Meng shook his head. “If we’re going to do it, let’s do it big.”

He’d originally planned to start a restaurant as an excuse to send money home, but since Yidi’s liquor worked wonders for marinating meat and the barbecue business seemed so profitable, having such a restaurant sounded like a golden goose. Why worry about a million? If things went well, the investment could be recouped in a few months!

After thinking it over, Yang Meng made his decision. “I’ve decided! Let’s do it big—I’ll cover the million.”

“What?” Hu Er Leng and the others cried in unison.

“Where did you get a million?” Hu Er Leng demanded.

Qi Kun joked, “Did you hook up with a rich lady? Can your body handle it?”

“Damn you!” Yang Meng said, brimming with pride. “To be honest, I helped Long Group with a little favor and got a windfall—just over a million in hand. Not too little, not too much, so I might as well do something with it. Brothers fight as one, families succeed together; since I’ve struck it rich, I can’t forget you guys.”

Hu Er Leng immediately turned to Qi Kun. “Let’s beat him up!”

The three of them dissolved into chaos.

“Alright, enough! Are we going to talk business or not?” Yang Meng stopped them. “I’ve thought about it. You don’t have to put in money; each of you gets a ten percent share. If we lose, it’s on me. If we earn, everyone gets a share. If business is good, making thirty to fifty thousand a month won’t be a problem. What do you say?”

“I think it’ll be more than thirty or fifty thousand,” Hu Er Leng calculated. “With our barbecue’s flavor, business will be booming. A big place like that, a hundred tables a day is nothing. Daily gross profit of twenty to thirty thousand, you’ll recoup your investment in two or three months.”

Ma Fengying, who had been silent, shook her head. “With drinks and other sales, the profits could be even higher. But we have to carefully consider location and management.”

Yang Meng laughed, “Sister Ma, I won’t be managing the restaurant—it’ll be up to you.”

Ma Fengying was surprised. “I have a share too?”

Yang Meng pointed at Hu Er Leng and Qi Kun. “Look at these two—do they know anything about running a business? You’ll need to put in extra effort managing. Don’t refuse; you’ve taken care of me for years. Consider it my way of repaying you. Besides, your son’s coming soon, right? You wouldn’t want him distracted.”

Hearing her son mentioned, Ma Fengying was quiet for a while, then smiled, “It’s just serving people, isn’t it? It’s all I know how to do.”

Yang Meng rolled his eyes. “Sister Ma, let’s not get carried away, alright?”

Hu Er Leng straightened up, “Haven’t you heard ‘never eat food offered in contempt’? Meng Meng, do you really think you can buy us with money?”

Yang Meng shot him a look. “Give it a rest. The guy who refused food offered in contempt—Qian Ao—saw someone starving on the street, offered him food out of kindness, and the man said, ‘It’s precisely because I refuse food like this that I’m in this state.’ Qian Ao apologized, and the man would rather starve to death than accept his food—crazy, right? You want to be like that?”

Hu Er Leng shook his head vigorously. “No, no, no, Meng Meng, you misunderstood. What I mean is, if you want to buy us, do it thoroughly. I’ll sell my labor, not my talent.”

Yang Meng ignored him and turned to Qi Kun. “Lobster, Madman may be an auxiliary police officer now, but with his drive, I think he’ll go official soon. Police can’t run businesses, so you hold his share for him.”

Qi Kun looked at Hu Er Leng uneasily. “Meng Meng, isn’t that a bit much? Er Leng meant that if we just wait for dividends without investing a penny, it’s not right.”

Yang Meng smiled, “Who said you’re just waiting for dividends? You guys will manage the place! If you really think it’s unfair, fine—each of you invests a hundred thousand. When you make money, pay me back first, then split the profits. Is that better?”

Qi Kun nodded. “That’s a good plan! What do you think, Er Leng?”

Hu Er Leng agreed. “Yeah, it’s still taking advantage of Meng Meng, but it feels much better this way. But Meng Meng, what will you do if you’re not managing such a big barbecue restaurant?”

Yang Meng pointed at his nose with smug pride. “I’m the big boss! The big boss just sits back and lets others work. I’ll guarantee the supply of marinating spices—that’s the secret to booming business, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, right!” Hu Er Leng and Qi Kun both raised their right middle fingers at Yang Meng.

Yang Meng glared, “Dare to show me the finger? I’m your boss!”

This time, Hu Er Leng and Qi Kun added their left middle fingers to the gesture.

Ma Fengying was more serious. “Yang, you’ll need to keep the marinating recipe strictly confidential. By the way, how do you plan to decorate the place? What will you call it?”

Her question made Hu Er Leng and Qi Kun turn to Yang Meng; they cared about this too—it would be their livelihood.

Yang Meng answered without hesitation. “What’s there to consider? We’ll decorate it like an ancient tavern, go for a retro style. Drinking from bowls, eating meat with our hands—the ‘big bites of meat, big bowls of wine’ vibe. As for the name… Rivers and Lakes! Yes, we’ll call it ‘Rivers and Lakes’!”

Hu Er Leng thought about it. “That’s a great idea. The first floor can be the main hall, the second floor private rooms named after martial arts novels—like ‘The Deer and the Cauldron,’ ‘Dragon Eight Chapters,’ and so on. The lobby is for casual diners, and we can buy some fake antiques from the cultural market to decorate. Just imagining it feels exciting.”

Qi Kun scoffed, “You can’t afford real antiques! Anyway, is there anything genuine left at the cultural market? But Meng Meng, your idea is solid. The staff can dress in period costumes, the tableware in vintage styles—maybe pottery. Sounds fun, actually.”

Yang Meng laughed heartily. “Of course! Who else could come up with such a plan? I’ll check out the cultural market, you guys quit your jobs, get busy—finding a place and renovating will take time. Let’s aim to open before the New Year.”

Qi Kun slapped the table. “I never liked driving taxis anyway. Let’s do it! It’s been ages since I felt so fired up. Too bad Madman isn’t here, or we’d be drinking to celebrate right now!”

Just as he finished, his phone rang in his pocket.

“Damn, a call now?” Qi Kun grumbled, but answered, “Hello, who is this?”

Whatever was said on the other end made his expression darken. When he hung up, he spoke in a voice close to tears, “Madman… is in the hospital now!”