Chapter 308: The Solution to Root Out the Problem

PS: Sorry.

"One of you betrayed me."

"Or a few."

When the students abroad saw this message appear in the group chat, they were stunned.

"Old Ma, what the hell are you muttering about? Did Jesus send you a dream?"

"Jesus didn't do that." Ma Ma Zhaodi typed in the group chat: "But today, two people on the street found out my location."

"Isn't that normal?" another student abroad replied: "You have to meet people at your stall to sell anything. You're not selling food out in the middle of nowhere."

"But these two aren't isolated cases." Ma Ma Zhaodi continued typing: "Recently, people coming to buy pastries don't seem like they're just randomly strolling. They all seem to have come prepared. They arrive, don't ask what's available, and immediately start buying a specific type of pastry, starting with six or seven pieces at a time."

"Would a normal person buy food at a food cart like that? Shouldn't a normal person at least ask first, then buy two pieces to taste? Why did they just know the names of the pastries?"

"Ah, this..."

"The people coming to find me are from different areas, different social classes, different workplaces, and their species are almost enough to fill half a gender chart—they all have only one thing in common."

"."

At that moment, all the students abroad in the group fell silent, because they recalled the events of the past three months and knew what Ma Ma Zhaodi wanted to say.

"Exactly, in their social circles there is at least one student abroad—or a Chinese person."

Ma Ma Zhaodi reproached the students abroad in the group with deep anguish: "Tell me, tell me, where exactly did they get the intelligence about the food cart? How did they know what types of pastries the cart was selling? Why didn't they suspect the taste of the pastries?"

"Or let me rephrase the question—how many people did you bastards distribute my pastries to?"

"Ahem, well, Old Ma, you know, the things you make are simply too delicious."

"Yeah, yeah, you only sell ninety percent a day, and you keep some to sell on the street—even limiting the quantity per person. That's such a waste! What do foreigners know? Maybe they'll even complain in their hearts that the pastries aren't sweet enough. It's like a cow chewing on a peony—unlike me, I just devour your pastries."

"Hiring locals to buy for us was a last resort. You wouldn't let us come to your food cart anyway. Selling to anyone is selling; I've already paid, so what's wrong with eating a bit more!"

"Yeah, yeah. There was a teacher who really hated me before and said he'd give me a C at the end of the term. I had no choice but to use your pastries as gifts; otherwise, I wouldn't have gotten this A."

"Sigh, your method of gifting yields such low returns. Foolish, foolish! Last time, the pastries I bought disappeared. When I asked around later, I found out my cousin, who lives here, took them. He said he secretly gave them to the leader's daughter once, and she absolutely loved the stuff—I feel that if he keeps gifting for a few more months, the leader will gain a son-in-law."

"Damn, why didn't you say such a good idea earlier? If I had known, I wouldn't have devoured all the pastries myself."

"Hey, stop it for a second, will you?" Ma Ma Zhaodi felt his fists getting a bit hard at this moment: "Do you bastards know that two gang-hired robbers found my food cart today? I'm being targeted, friends!"

"Today I was lucky enough to run into a few police officers. If this happens again next time and they send a whole van of bread-heads to attack me, what then? I'm begging you, if you see the food cart next time, don't report my location, please."

"And what the hell did you guys create in the Central City? The Pastry Gang? Stop using my pastries to bribe your bosses! We aren't cult members, and I'm not selling ice!"

"Ah, right, right, right..."

"In any case, no matter what you think." Ma Ma Zhaodi continued: "I am certain that a batch of local Central City buyers has already started buying the pastries for themselves to eat. They aren't stupid; they can taste for themselves whether the food is good or not. If you accelerate the spread even more, and all the buyers turn into mouthy people who intercept the goods, then you'll know what cruelty is."

Seeing the group chat fall silent, Ma Ma Zhaodi finally unconsciously let out a long sigh. After today's incident, the safety of his stall should improve significantly—at the very least, he won't be constantly reported by all the students abroad anymore.

"Hey, Joe."

"Jimmy?" Joe, holding a cup of latte, came to Jimmy's side: "How was it? What did those two guys say?" "They aren't willing to say anything." Jimmy shook his head: "Although the food cart vendor has already explained the whole story, the two of them insist on waiting for their lawyer."

"Sounds like they aren't first-time offenders."

"Outsiders with a long criminal record." Jimmy explained: "A handgun was found on the skinny guy, with a round chambered. They probably came here to kill."

"A gang actually dares to hire assassins so blatantly—even an attempted murder shows they don't put the Central City Police Department in their eyes at all."

"Compared to that, I'm more worried about that food cart owner. If the gang really kills him, our afternoon tea will have to switch back to donuts."

"Wait, who is the gang trying to kill?"

In the gap between the two men's conversation, Inspector Singh happened to pass by.

"Uh, the food cart owner. We usually buy some 'pastries' from him for afternoon tea."

Singh raised an eyebrow.

"You mean the small cakes we usually eat?"

"Yes."

"The ones I usually take back to my boyfriend?"

"Uh, yes."

"This is simply intolerable!"

Singh's eyes immediately widened in anger: "What kind of place do you think the Central City is? Hiring assassins so brazenly?!"

"No need to wait for their confessions. Let's arrest that group of unscrupulous gang members and social idlers first!"

"Ahem, Inspector Singh, that's unnecessary, unnecessary."

An old officer quickly tried to dissuade him: "Such an operation consumes manpower and resources, and burdens the people and wastes money. We are a police department, not a charity industry; we can't act on impulse..."

"Wait, wait." Jimmy suddenly spoke up from the side: "Actually, this matter isn't without benefits. About several thousand Chinese international students have just indicated they want to crowdfund a donation to the police department—the total amount is roughly two million dollars."

"They said they hope this money can help the Central City's conscientious food cart entrepreneur avoid persecution by gangs."

As soon as the words fell, that officer immediately let go of Singh's hand.

Joe and Eddie exchanged a glance.

"Have you ever seen a situation like this before?"

"Chinese students doing this? Never seen it."

"Can we still go home on time tonight?"

"Don't even think about it." Joe patted his shoulder: "Let's protect our conscientious food cart entrepreneur first."

(End of Chapter)