Chapter 229: Internet‑Famous Cafeteria Drives the Economy—All Courtyard Dining Thrives

It was just dawn, and Zhao Jianguo was still inside, sorting the data from last night. His eyes were a bit gritty, his head heavy, but his hands kept moving. He had written most of the paper and recorded the quantum simulator's data. He was about to shut the computer and rest a bit when a clamor suddenly came from outside.

The noise grew louder.

He walked to the window, pushed open a crack, and saw a long line outside. People were crowding from the Siheyuan Cafeteria entrance all the way to Hutongkou, and some were waving cameras, snapping aggressively at the Wooden Sign that read "Siheyuan Cafeteria" on the doorway.

He froze for a moment.

Then he remembered that two days ago Sha Zhu had tried the New Stir-fry Machine and posted a video on an app, saying, "Old craftsmanship with new gear, the wok's flavor stays while saving coal." He hadn't expected anyone to actually come to watch the spectacle.

As he just closed the window, a System Prompt popped up: 【Check‑in Successful, detected large crowd gathering with positive emotional surge, community economic value surpassed the threshold, unlocking "Business Management Specialization"】.

He read it twice, didn't hurry to open the skill description, and turned to leave.

The Courtyard was already a bustle.

Wang Nainai moved a small table to the corridor, where several large bowls of sour plum soup with clinking ice sat. She wore a Blue Cloth, fanned a palm fan, and while beckoning customers, chanted, "One yuan per bowl, no cheating the young or old! This is homemade, with hawthorn and black plum, perfect for cooling!"

San Daye sat on a nearby horse‑stool, wearing glasses, a notebook spread before him, a pencil clenched in his hand, recording the accounts line by line. When someone paid, he slipped the money into a drawer while muttering, "Morning shift income three hundred seventy‑two, the lunch rush hasn't arrived yet; today we can break a thousand."

A few young Courtyard residents ran back and forth at the Cafeteria entrance, delivering Meal Tickets, collecting bowls, and keeping order. A youngster raised a Speaker and shouted, "Red‑braised pork is limited to one box per person, don't rush! There are elders behind!"

Zhao Jianguo walked over and asked, "Who came up with this setup?"

The person turned, saw him, and hurriedly said, "It was Sha Zhu brother! Early in the morning there were too many people, feared chaos, so he got everyone moving. Wang Nainai volunteered to sell drinks, and San Daye said, since he's from an accounting background, handling money fits."

Zhao Jianguo nodded, said little, and circled to the back Kitchen.

The door opened, heat blasting his face. Sha Zhu stood at the stove flipping the wok, oil droplets splattering wildly. He was shirtless under an apron, his hair damp with sweat clinging to his forehead, shouting, "The heat's right! Plate it!"

Two young assistant cooks nearby fumbled packing boxes; one accidentally dropped a Meal Ticket, and Sha Zhu turned and barked, "Steady! This isn't a joke, these are people's meals!"

Hearing the commotion, he turned, saw Zhao Jianguo, and exhaled, "Brother Zhao, you're here? Look at this scene, I didn't expect it either!"

Zhao Jianguo glanced at the stove, "Is the machine on?"

"On!" Sha Zhu pointed to an Iron Shell in the corner, "Saves half the coal, temperature steady; it's my first time seeing such a crowd, I have to keep an eye on it, lest it backfires."

Zhao Jianguo stepped closer, glanced at the operation Screen, data normal. He asked again, "What about the secret recipe? Aren't you afraid someone will copy it?"

Sha Zhu grinned, "Afraid of what? They can't steal my feel? The sauce is my own blend, the heat timing I've honed over thirty years. The machine saves effort, but flavor still depends on the cook. Don't believe it? Try a bite."

He pinched a piece of meat and handed it over.

Zhao Jianguo took it, bit down; the meat was tender, the sauce rich. It truly was that same flavor.

He nodded, "Alright, go ahead, I trust you."

Sha Zhu chuckled, "I want to expand! Add two more machines, and serving two thousand portions a day won't be a problem."

Before he finished speaking, a stir erupted outside.

The two stepped out and saw several strangers carrying camcorders barging in; one, microphone in hand, approached the stove and said, "Master, are you the legendary 'Siheyuan Kitchen God'? We're from the municipal TV program 'Tongue Street', and we'd like to do a feature report—"

Before he could finish, San Daye, leaning on a cane, blocked the way: "Register first! Outsiders entering the Courtyard must fill out a form!"

The person was taken aback: "Register? Is this an organization?"

"It's a household," San Daye said sternly, "If you want to film, you can, but pay a deposit first; any damage will be compensated, and if you disturb the neighbors' rest, you'll be asked to leave immediately."

The cameraman chuckled wryly, "Sir, we're just here to promote…"

"Promotion also must follow the rules," San Daye remained unmoved.

Zhao Jianguo stepped forward and told the reporter, "Filming is allowed, but the kitchen's internal processes cannot be recorded, the recipe stays private. You want a story; we have one. But it must follow our procedures."

The reporter hesitated, then nodded, "Alright, we'll shoot exterior scenes and interview customers?"

"Fine," Zhao Jianguo said, "but someone must accompany you; don't ask random questions."

He turned to look for help, and just then Shuang Baotai passed by, one of them clutching a stack of papers.

"What are you holding?" he asked.

The younger sister lifted one: "Civilized Check‑in Initiative! We printed it! It says no cutting in line, no waste, no loud chatter…"

The older brother continued, "Each person gets one upon entering the Courtyard; they must read it before they can eat."

Zhao Jianguo smiled, "Great, you two handle distribution and also keep an eye on the reporters."

The two stood at attention, "We'll guarantee the task's completion!"

After noon, the crowd didn't dwindle; it grew.

At dusk, when closing up, Sha Zhu finished the accounts, wiped his face, and came looking for Zhao Jianguo carrying a Cloth Bundle.

He set the bundle on the table, opened it, and inside was a stack of cash.

"Brother Zhao, the net profit for the first seven days," he said, "is six times what it was before. How should we split it?"

Zhao Jianguo didn't take the money: "It's not mine; it belongs to everyone. You set the rules, I'll supervise."

Sha Zhu scratched his head, "I don't get this… how about an even split?"

"No," San Daye, who had somehow been standing at the door, said, "Wang Nainai runs the stall, I do the accounting, they help; no one works for free. We must differentiate labor contributions."

Someone echoed, "Exactly! I run errands twenty times a day; it's unfair to get the same money as someone sitting in an office."

Another added, "What about those who didn't exert effort? Do they get nothing?"

Wang Nainai shook her head, "Don't put it that way. Who in our Courtyard hasn't faced hardships? But now we're dividing money for work, not charity."

Finally, Zhao Jianguo spoke, "Let's set up a public fund. Sixty percent for equipment upgrades and children's school subsidies; twenty percent as profit‑sharing based on labor; the remaining twenty percent kept as emergency reserve."

No one objected.

San Daye drafted the agreement on the spot, each signing and sealing it. The money was repackaged, the appropriate amounts entered the accounts, the rest disbursed.

At nine at night, the people finally dispersed.

Zhao Jianguo stood in the Courtyard, holding the profit‑sharing statement. Light illuminated the paper, the handwriting clear. He looked up; the Cafeteria window was still lit, Sha Zhu was wiping the stove, humming a tune.

Laughter echoed from afar.

A group of young people marched by, flags bearing red with white letters "Siheyuan Food Tour Day3", chanting, "Come again tomorrow!"

He turned, went back inside, placed the money into a drawer, and opened the system interface.

The Business Management Specialization description had just unfolded when the Screen flickered briefly.

A new prompt floated up: 【Detected nationwide help‑signal connection, source covering 17 provinces, request types: technical assistance, equipment repair, energy retrofitting】.

He opened the details, and the list kept scrolling nonstop.

His finger hovered above the confirm button.