Chapter 65: The Big Hustler Is Back Online

Zhou Andong stood at the busiest intersection on Zhongyangdajie, the very heart of Jiangzhou’s commercial district.

The Department Store, Zhongxing Commercial Building, Maoye Shopping Mall, and Taiyang Square stood at each corner of the intersection like four pillars holding up the sky.

Directly before Zhou Andong was Taiyang Square, occupying the southwest corner; his position was due north, right at the square’s main entrance, where one could go straight upstairs, and not far away was also an underground entrance.

In his memory, in 1996, a disco would open in the basement of Taiyang Square—the first true disco in Jiangzhou, so wildly popular it was unbelievable. Now, the basement was still a warehouse.

Zhou Andong walked around to the east entrance, a first-floor space of over seven hundred square meters, all rented to small-goods vendors—but most merchants had already moved to the newly opened small-goods wholesale market, leaving only a few lonely stalls, not a single customer in sight, likely to close soon. Two years later, a fast-food restaurant would open here—just boxed meals—that would boom for over a decade.

Zhou Andong walked through the entire space. The location and area were perfect, but the rent would certainly be steep, not to mention renovation and equipment costs—he’d need nearly a hundred thousand, and his wine sales bonus was clearly insufficient.

Zhou Andong scratched his head and muttered, “Gu Young Master, you must’ve saved the galaxy in your last life, so in this one you met me—I’ll make you look cool and fly high. When you get the chance, go visit your ancestors’ graves—see if they’re smoking.”

Taiyang Square belonged to the Linhe District Mining Bureau’s assets. Zhou Andong went to negotiate rent with the leadership, only to find they demanded eighty thousand yuan outright, not a cent less. Zhou Andong turned and walked away. In two or three years, that price would still be about right—now they were treating him like a fool.

But he didn’t give up. He came day after day, waiting outside. The leader grew headaches just seeing him—he’d never met such a shameless man before. Finally, he reluctantly invited Zhou Andong into his office.

“Young comrade, eighty thousand isn’t high. If we rent to small-goods vendors, the annual rent is roughly the same.”

“Leader!” Zhou Andong pulled out a pack of Huazhi, offered one, and eagerly lit it for him. “I did the math—it’s only about seventy thousand. And they’re all small vendors; your management costs each year are still high. If you rent to me, you don’t have to manage anything—just collect rent.”

The leader sighed. “Seventy is my bottom line.”

Zhou Andong said, “The other day I counted—there are eight cleaners. Keep them on as building staff, but I’ll pay their salaries—higher than what they’re getting now.”

The leader thought for a moment. “Seventy thousand.”

Zhou Andong shook his head. “Sixty-five.”

The leader rejected instantly: “No way. Are you kidding me?”

“Don’t refuse so fast!” Zhou Andong smiled. “Do you know what I plan to do?”

The leader said, “Aren’t you opening a restaurant?”

“Right!” Zhou Andong said. “But I’m not opening Chinese food—I’m opening Western food.”

“W…Western food?” The leader’s eyes widened. “You’re not joking?”

Zhou Andong said, “I come here every day. You’re busy—I’m not that idle.”

The leader fell silent. Zhou Andong’s big-hustle mode activated: “Have you heard of KFC and McDonald’s?”

The leader shook his head. “Western food?”

In April, McDonald’s had just opened in Jingcheng—this was the first time Western fast food had entered the country, so few people here even knew about it, let alone understood it.

Zhou Andong smiled. Good, they hadn’t heard of it. He continued: “Yes, but it’s not traditional Western food—it’s new-style Western food, affordable for ordinary people.”

The leader’s eyes lit up. “You’re opening this kind of Western restaurant?”

“Of course!” Zhou Andong said. “Think about it—Jiangzhou’s first Western restaurant, right here in Taiyang Square, instantly elevates the mall’s status. What can the Department Store, Zhongxing Commercial Building, or Maoye Shopping Mall compete with?”

The leader was genuinely tempted. If a Western restaurant opened in Taiyang Square, his face would shine.

In this era, anything foreign was adored—not just by commoners, but by leaders too.

“When can you open?”

Zhou Andong let slip a barely noticeable smile. “Once you clear out the remaining tenants, I’ll start renovation right after the New Year. If everything goes smoothly, we can open by spring.”

The leader frowned. “That long?”

Zhou Andong said, “Western restaurant renovation must be refined, and some equipment can only be bought in Jingcheng or Shanghai.”

The leader nodded. “Any other requirements?”

“Done!” Zhou Andong thought triumphantly. “If only the rent could be a little lower…”

The leader laughed, lightly tapping Zhou Andong. “Can’t go lower. If I do, I can’t explain it.”

Zhou Andong smiled too, delivering a well-placed compliment: “Leader, even though I’ve come here for days, I truly admire and respect you—you have principles, but aren’t rigid, you know how to adapt. Jiangzhou is lucky to have a leader like you.”

The leader burst into laughter—the compliment had hit just right. “You little rascal, enough already. I’ve been annoyed by you all week. Get out, I’m off duty.”

Zhou Andong returned home and began designing the renovation plan. He’d considered fast food or hot pot—high profits, yes, but high investment too, especially chef training, which he’d have to handle personally. Too troublesome. So he thought of Western fast food: sure to attract the youth, with profit margins reaching a staggering 60–70%, pure profit.

Of course, KFC and McDonald’s were out of the question—totally unrealistic. So he thought of Dicos, a brand under the Tingxin Group, not founded until 1996.

In his past life, he’d franchised one. Though the marinades were shipped from headquarters, in the internet age, recipes weren’t secrets—he’d mixed his own before, and the taste was nearly identical. Especially in this era, no one had ever tasted it—who could say his version wasn’t authentic?

On January 18, the old man had boarded the southbound train. Zhou Andong rose, faced the eastern sunrise, raised his arms, and let out a loud roar.

“The spring horn has blown—my era has arrived.”

“You little brat!” Yuan Liying pulled back the outer curtain. “What’s gotten into you this early?”

Zhou Andong rubbed his nose sheepishly, turned silently to brush his teeth and wash his face. After breakfast, it was already past nine. He’d just stepped out the front gate, planning a stroll, when he saw Gu Bing’s 212 pulling up.

The 212 screeched to a stop beside Zhou Andong. Jian Qiu rolled down the window. “Hurry up, get in.”

Zhou Andong asked, “What’s wrong?”

Jian Qiu said, “Stop dawdling. Get in now—something big’s happened.”