Note: Don't Forget to join my Pãtreon/flokixy to get access to +10 Advance Chapters or unlock the full story from the shop support so I can bring more Chapters for you
Canteens and restaurants both serve food, but their nature is different. The former is a dining facility provided by an organization or school for its own employees or students, while a restaurant is an open business designed to cater to a wide variety of customers and attract wealth from all directions.
Some canteens, such as those in the military, don't aim for profit. The amount of food served is determined by need, and any leftovers are given to the officers and soldiers.
Not all canteens are run directly by the organization; after the planned economy era ended, many canteens were outsourced to professional contractors, as it was cheaper than having employees manage it themselves.
School canteens follow a similar model. Schools, which focus on education, can't afford to allocate teachers to run canteens. Outsourcing the operation to professionals through public bidding is the standard. School canteens, especially in middle and primary schools for minors, are subject to stricter hygiene and nutritional standards. The menu can't repeat within a week, nutrition must be balanced, and prices must be reasonable.
School canteens can be profitable, even highly profitable, but the key is to not compromise on quality. If a restaurant offers poor food, customers can simply choose to go elsewhere, and word-of-mouth will ruin the restaurant's reputation. But canteens don't have that luxury—students don't have a choice but to eat what's provided. This creates room for manipulation, and the price differences between various ingredients, like oil, can lead to significant profits.
Take oil as an example—there are soybean oil, peanut oil, rapeseed oil, sunflower oil, olive oil, and more. The national standards for oil range from grade one to grade four, with some small workshops producing their own oils, using either physical pressing or chemical extraction methods. There are also genetically modified oils and non-GMO oils. Some oils are labeled clearly, while others are sold under vague names like "vegetable blended oil."
The price difference between non-GMO, physically pressed grade one peanut oil and genetically modified soybean oil from small workshops can be substantial. Over time, this adds up to a nice sum, and the children won't even notice the difference in oil quality.
Such practices aren't limited to oil—other ingredients are manipulated similarly. This is why integrity is crucial. As the old man said, if you treat it as a business, you'll always be focused on profits. Since the meal prices are fixed, the only way to make a profit is by cutting corners, which can degrade the quality of the food. A canteen like that won't last long.
However, it can't be purely charitable either, or the cost will soon outstrip the resources. Running a canteen requires balancing business with quality and ensuring fair pricing.
Suddenly, Yi Leng had an epiphany. The key to making the canteen profitable was to focus on getting the best prices for ingredients, ensuring food quality, and separating the procurement and processing aspects. The canteen would handle only food preparation, ensuring clean, hygienic, and balanced meals for the students.
"Let's separate the procurement and processing through bidding," Yi Leng said. "The people buying the ingredients won't do the cooking, and the people cooking won't buy the ingredients."
The old man slapped the table. "Brilliant, just like High Family Village's plan!"
Yi Leng laughed heartily. This was a reference to an old movie, The Underground War—a joke that only older people would understand.
Separating procurement from processing wouldn't entirely eliminate corruption, but it would reduce the potential for conflicts of interest. This idea wasn't truly revolutionary, as big cities had already adopted such practices in their school canteens, but it wasn't common in more closed-off places like Jiangwei.
"Do you think we have a chance?" Yi Leng asked with a smile.
"With your skills in making lunch boxes, I think you've got a solid chance," the old man replied.
The bidding for the school canteen wasn't something the old security guard could decide on, so Yi Leng and the old man just talked casually, sipping liquor. As the snow continued to fall outside, the old man got up, grabbed a two-meter-long wax rod from behind the door, and headed outside.
In the vast playground covered in white snow, the old man swung the long stick, moving with the grace of a martial artist, creating shadows in the snow as he practiced his forms.
"Great spear skills!" Yi Leng cheered, holding his bottle of liquor by the side of the playground.
To those who didn't understand martial arts, the movements might look like stick fighting, but they were actually a type of spear technique.
The old man finished his routine and, laughing, said, "Just showing off a bit, it's just for exercise."
"Wait!" Yi Leng put down his bottle and grabbed two rubber sticks from the equipment table in the security room.
The school had strict security requirements, including helmets, shields, and rubber sticks. Yi Leng intended to use the sticks as knives, and the old man immediately understood. They sparred in the snow, practicing a routine with two knives advancing towards a spear.
The two of them weren't moving too fast and occasionally made mistakes, but their coordination was surprisingly good.
It was said that great minds meet like the meeting of high mountains and flowing water. This was one of those moments where two people who truly understood each other connected.
The shipyard middle school only had a junior high section with three grades and 15 classes, totaling 658 students. Including the faculty, there were 700 people. A meal for 700 people was considered a big deal for an average restaurant.
"I'm afraid we won't be able to handle it. We have no experience, and our company lacks the proper credentials," Wu Yumei wasn't against the idea, but she didn't feel confident.
"We can hire people with the proper credentials, and as for experience, I have that," Yi Leng said confidently. "The bidding will be under Yumei Catering Consulting Management Co. Ltd., not our small restaurant. I believe if we're determined, we can do it."
"Just let Old Huang decide," Wu Yumei said, trusting him wholeheartedly. Her blind admiration for him was evident, as she acted like a little fan girl around him.
"Do you know what's most important in a bidding process?" Yi Leng asked.
Wu Yumei shook her head, clueless. Her small restaurant had been running steadily, and she had never dealt with bidding before.
"The key is to make a great presentation," Yi Leng explained.
"I can type, and I know five-stroke input. Isn't PowerPoint just slides? No problem, I'll teach you," Wu Yumei said confidently.
Yi Leng was surprised. "You know computers and English? Where did you learn all that?"
"From Peking University," Wu Yumei replied proudly.
Yi Leng raised an eyebrow. "Peking University's distance education?"
"No, Peking University Qingniao," Wu Yumei said.
The board members and general managers of Yumei Catering quickly outlined the strategic direction of the company, but it was the collective effort of everyone that would turn the plans into action.
In the early stages of a small company, there were no rigid hierarchies, and no strict attendance policies. Everyone treated the business like their own home, respecting each other's opinions, regardless of who voiced them.
Unexpectedly, no one supported the idea of bidding for the school canteen.
The reasoning was unanimous—running a school canteen was too complicated. With no solid foundation, they wouldn't be able to handle it. A business serving meals to nearly a thousand people every day seemed like easy money, but there were many powerful people in Jiangwei who wouldn't let such a lucrative opportunity slip by.
"Old Huang, you seem like a smart guy. Why are you making such a mistake?" Xie Wenxia, in her motherly tone, tried to dissuade him from this rash project.
"They've probably already decided. We don't stand a chance," Xiao Hong said, pretending to be knowledgeable.
Zhang Cong, a recent graduate, had vivid memories of school canteens. In his vocational school, the canteen was contracted out, and the food was terrible. They often had bizarre meals like fried mooncakes and stewed apples. To support the canteen's business, the school even prohibited students from eating outside or ordering takeout.
"Not eating in the canteen means going hungry, but eating is unpleasant. I didn't have a decent meal during my three years of high school," Zhang Cong said, still angry when he brought it up.
Yi Leng asked Du Li for her thoughts.
Du Li, being straightforward and honest, didn't have much of an opinion. She simply said, "I'll do whatever the boss decides."
It was now three against three, and the situation was balanced. Yi Leng didn't intend to convince those who disagreed. He knew that Xie Wenxia and Xiao Hong's views were hard to change with words, so the only solution was to teach through reality.
Suddenly, someone entered the room, casually eating sunflower seeds and acting as if it were her own house—it was Yan Aihua from next door.
"Come on, not winning the bid won't make us lose any skin," Yan Aihua said. "If you want to make money, you've got to be willing to fight for it. If you fight, you'll win. Count me in."
Xiao Hong joked, "Aihua, aren't you running your beauty salon anymore?"
Yan Aihua laughed, "Of course I am. I'll follow along with you guys and go to the school to give haircuts to the students."
With her vote, the decision swung in favor of moving forward with the bid—four against three. The next steps were clear: gather qualifications and create the PPT bid proposal.
Wu Yumei, who had claimed she could teach Huang Pihu how to make a PPT, had learned a bit of computer typing back in the day. She could do basic functions like Pavarotti's "Paw-rah" typing style but had long since forgotten most of it. The first thing she did was rush to a second-hand bookstore and buy a basic computer guide to relearn.
The company was undergoing major changes, and it wouldn't be right to not inform the investors. Yumei Catering's largest shareholder, Ms. Ou Li, was currently debating whether to return home for the holidays. With the winter break starting, and no duty assigned by the school, she could either go back to Singapore or Shanghai.
But Ah Li didn't want to leave. She felt a strong sense of belonging here, in the Shipyard Family District. It was home, and she wasn't sure why, but it felt very intense.
However, she couldn't stay—there were too many responsibilities at home. Grandparents were waiting for her.
So when Wu Yumei called to inform her about the bid for the school canteen, Ah Li was thrilled. It was the perfect opportunity to delay leaving.
"Great! I fully support it," Ah Li said, beaming. "The parents of the students are all working, preparing lunches is hard, and the inconsistent quality of lunches makes the students compare with each other. Affordable, high-quality, nutritious school lunches are essential!"
Wu Yumei said, "You're a university graduate, and you definitely know how to do a better job on the PPT than I can. Please help."
Ah Li smiled, "Of course, leave it to me. Cooking is not my thing, but I can definitely handle making a good PPT."
Wu Yumei hung up the phone, feeling a bit unwilling. When women were together, there was always a sense of competition, even between close friends. In the restaurant, Wu Yumei considered herself the best. Xie Wenxia was older and not as gentle, Du Li was too honest and quiet, Xiao Hong was just a child, and Yan Aihua, a former prostitute, had no place in the competition.
Only Ah Li, who excelled in many ways, was a true rival.
Wu Yumei didn't realize it, but her comparisons were being made in reference to Huang Pihu. She was afraid someone might steal this treasure from her.
She opened the old Shenzhou laptop connected to the surveillance system, a relic from the time when Li Yuchun had endorsed it. It was still running, which was a small miracle. She decided to create a PPT herself, to see how it compared to Ah Li's work.
However, when she opened the software, she was completely lost—aside from typing, she didn't know how to do anything else.
After the lunchtime rush was over, it was now break time, and the restaurant was empty. Wu Yumei sat at the counter, frustrated with the computer.
Suddenly, the door curtain lifted, and Yi Leng entered. He had been outside shoveling snow. A heavy snowstorm had been falling since yesterday, giving the impression of a bountiful year ahead.
The restaurant was warm and cozy. Yi Leng removed his military coat, walked to the counter, and glanced at the computer screen. "How about I give it a try? If you can't do it, I'll teach you."
Wu Yumei moved aside, letting Huang Pihu sit at the desk. She stood behind him, watching him work.
Huang Pihu was surprisingly proficient with the computer. In no time, he had set up the basic structure for the PPT—cover page, introduction, table of contents, all in perfect order. Making a good PPT required attention to detail, including color matching. Each time he used a new color, he would ask Wu Yumei if she thought it looked good.
"Not bad," Wu Yumei said, impressed. She had always thought Huang Pihu was rough around the edges, wearing leather pants and getting his hair styled, but his taste in colors was excellent. Even though she couldn't quite describe the colors, they looked high-class.
"This is called a Morandi tone," Huang Pihu explained. "It's not too saturated, so it's more understated compared to bright colors. It's sophisticated."
"You know so much. Did they teach this in prison?" Wu Yumei teased.
"Of course, it's just like college," Huang Pihu replied.
There was something undeniably charming about a man who worked with focus, whether in cooking or creating a PPT.
With no one else in the restaurant, the afternoon was especially quiet. The warmth of the room made it feel even more peaceful. Wu Yumei, standing behind Yi Leng in her tight sweater, could smell his scent—a mixture of fresh vegetables, tobacco, soap, and new snow. It was a strange but comforting scent.
Time passed slowly, and the atmosphere was too perfect to waste. Wu Yumei took a deep breath and leaned forward slightly, pressing her softness against Huang Pihu's back. Her face flushed, and her heart raced.
But Huang Pihu, oblivious to the subtle gesture, remained unaffected.
Wu Yumei felt a little embarrassed and frustrated but couldn't express it. Clearly, Huang Pihu was a man—there was no doubt about that—but the only explanation was that he wasn't interested in her.
"Old Huang, tell me about your wife," Wu Yumei said softly. "I'm curious to know what kind of person she is."
Yi Leng thought for a moment and replied, "She's smart, kind, humorous, talented, and has a high sense of aesthetics. She likes using Morandi tones."
Wu Yumei was about to say something else when the QQ notification in the bottom right corner of the screen flashed. It was a message from Ah Li, sending over her draft PPT. It wasn't fully complete yet, just a template framework.
Huang Pihu opened the file, and to his surprise, the PPT was remarkably similar to the one he had created. Both used Morandi tones as the base colors.