Chapter 33: Yan Li: If You Regret It, Use Your Mouth

In the days that followed, Yan Li's life became regular.

During the day, he memorized lines at home in the morning, and in the afternoon he bought several books on stocks to study.

He also opened several brokerage accounts, mainly to gain basic practical experience and to blend into some investor circles, broadening his sources of information.

At night, Yan Li researched and improved his braised meat recipe, figuring out how to make it tastier.

Occasionally, Yan Li would go out for meals or movies with Dong Xuan, or return home to discuss and exchange thoughts on life.

There was no choice—Yin Xu had taken on a job and was away; Guan Yue and Tong Dawei were constantly together, coming and going at all hours, leaving Dong Xuan always alone.

Break up but still friends!

Yan Li was a kind-hearted person, worried that Dong Xuan, as a girl, wasn't safe alone, and out of protective instinct, he extended his warm helping hand.

Pah~

The door banged; Dong Xuan slapped Yan Li, and he reluctantly pulled his hand out of her clothes.

Dong Xuan straightened her clothes, stood up, and opened the door—it was Zhou Yi, who came in winking and grinning.

"Brother Li, hope I'm not interrupting."

"Stop bullshit."

Yan Li laughed and scolded him, then went to the fridge and grabbed a soda for him: "How's the paperwork going?"

Zhou Yi was thirsty too; he took the soda and downed more than half in one go, letting out a satisfied burp.

"Almost done. I'll pick it up Monday when the office opens—weekend's off."

Yan Li had been busy these days, and Zhou Yi wasn't idle either—he bought the tricycle, the thermos, the digital scale, the packaging bags, and also ran around handling the food vendor permits.

In this era, nobody really checked on street vendors anyway; worst case, you just dodged the city management.

But Yan Li believed caution brought no harm, wanted peace of mind, and since Zhou Yi had nothing else to do, it was perfect.

"Alright, I've got the recipe sorted too. Let's start selling tomorrow."

"Good."

Zhou Yi rubbed his hands together excitedly—he'd gone out with Yan Li to sell twice before, unofficially, just to test the market, and the food sold out instantly.

So Zhou Yi had full confidence in Yan Li's braised meat.

He'd also invested money in this venture—even if it was a small amount—it was enough for him to stop asking home for cash for now.

…

Zhou Yi stuck around for dinner, helped wash the dishes, then took his leave with good sense.

The newly installed wired TV was playing the current hit drama "Liu Laogen," with Zhao Ben Shan portraying a peasant entrepreneur leading his villagers to prosperity.

Yan Li loved this drama—he watched it every night, and Dong Xuan snuggled into his arms.

"It's hot."

"I don't mind."

Yan Li had no choice but to hold her; Dong Xuan leaned against him, playing with his big hand, and asked curiously.

"If you've got the recipe, why not just give it to your family? Why bother setting up your own stall?"

"Giving it to the family is one thing—I'm grown now; I can't keep asking them for money forever. Setting up my own stall lets me earn a bit, and I can spend it more easily."

Yan Li had already passed the braised meat recipe to his family, but judging by their reaction, his father, Old Yan, didn't seem to take it seriously.

Think about it—Old Yan had started as a kitchen helper in the commune canteen at fifteen, spent over a decade as a chef before opening his own restaurant, and had been steeped in the heat of the stove for nearly thirty years.

Yan Li's cooking skills were taught to him hand-to-hand; his father knew exactly how much skill he had.

Now he's handed over a braised meat recipe, talking up a storm—Old Yan probably won't believe it; he likely thinks his son's just bragging.

Yan Li called twice to persuade him, but it did little good—he was scolded for wasting money on long-distance calls.

So now Yan Li stopped calling altogether.

Fine, don't use it—wait till he comes home and braises a pot of meat; that'll shut him up.

Thinking of this, Yan Li even felt a little anticipation—he'd been beaten plenty as a kid; it was time to reclaim some dignity.

As they talked, Yan Li's phone rang; seeing the caller ID, he got up and stepped aside to answer.

"... I just helped out a little, you're too kind... Got it, I'll wait for your call..."

Dong Xuan pretended to watch TV, but had been listening closely; when Yan Li returned, she feigned casualness.

"Who was that?"

"A friend."

"Cough... male or female?"

"Female."

Seeing Dong Xuan's expression change, Yan Li ruffled her hair and grinned.

"Just kidding—didn't you hear me call him Brother Cheng? He's a producer I met in Hengdian. I helped him out with a small favor, now it's done, and he's returning to Zhejiang—he's treating me to dinner."

"A producer? And he's treating you to dinner?"

Dong Xuan didn't believe it—among newcomers like them, producers and directors were big shots; even getting invited to dinner was rare, let alone being treated.

"That's why I'm awesome—how's it feel now? Regretting breaking up with me? Feels like you lost a treasure, right?"

"Yes yes yes, I'm utterly heartbroken."

Dong Xuan increasingly felt Yan Li refused to reconcile because he still harbored resentment from being dumped, so whenever this came up, she'd soothe him extra gently, hoping to ease his bitterness.

"If you regret it, use your mouth."

Dong Xuan rolled her eyes, placed her hands on Yan Li's neck, and was about to move closer when he stopped her—he grinned mischievously and repeated it again.

"If you regret it, use your mouth."

"Huh?"

Dong Xuan was stunned; Yan Li whispered two things in her ear, and her face flushed crimson as she shook her head like a rattle drum.

"No."

Yan Li extended one finger: "Just once."

"Pah!"

Dong Xuan spat, stood up to run, but Yan Li wouldn't let her go—he held her in his arms, refusing to release her, coaxing and wheedling for several minutes before Dong Xuan reluctantly squatted down…

————

Yan Li and Zhou Yi's braised meat business was going fairly well.

Because the flavor was excellent, even though the price wasn't cheap, sales never suffered—a single trip with dozens of pounds of meat brought in hundreds of yuan after deducting costs.

In 2002, this was unquestionably high income; Zhou Yi counted money every day with beaming delight, even joking about switching careers.

But Yan Li was still not entirely satisfied—he consulted the intelligence system to check market conditions.

In Jingcheng, the most successful cooked meat shops operated on a massive scale with huge profits, earning tens of thousands per month; some even cleared six-figure incomes in a single month.

Yan Li had never imagined that these unassuming roadside cooked meat shops could be so profitable.

One could only say that in this era, with the economy booming and Jingcheng at the nation's center, gold lay everywhere—if you had the courage and ability, you could pick it up freely.

In contrast to the mediocre performance of the braised meat business, Yan Li's stock market trial went poorly.

His research time was too short; he was still unfamiliar with the market and certain operations, and the intelligence system's triggers yielded few useful patterns—mostly useless data, with only a few useful insights. After several days of trials, his principal had dropped by several hundred yuan.

Still, Yan Li was not discouraged—it was just a trial, after all.

Moreover, the system was gradually adjusting, and its triggered intelligence was becoming increasingly useful; he believed that in time, he would transform into a "Little Stock God"…

(End of Chapter)