Food: Randomly set up stalls, even the little guy is drooling.

Let's go back to 6:30 p.m.

Zhang Zixuan sat at his desk, put the pen cap back into the pen barrel, and laughed heartily.

"Finally finished all my homework! It wasn't easy, it was so tough!" Zhang Zixuan laughed for a moment, then quickly ran out of the room. "Mom, I've finished my homework, let's go out and play for a bit!"

"Where are you going so late at night?" Mom was scrolling through short videos on Douyin in the living room. Before she could react, Zhang Zixuan had already put on his shoes and left. All she could hear was his voice trailing off, "I'll text you."

As soon as he stepped outside, while still waiting for the elevator, he called out to his friends on his watch, "Du Siqi! Are you done writing? I'm leaving."

Du Siqi is his friend, a chubby guy who loves watching anime. In the group chat, he calls himself "Zui Ai Ni Douzi" (meaning "I love Beans"). Tsk tsk, he's a huge fan of anime.

However, for Zhang Zixuan, it doesn't matter what kind of fan you are, as long as you're a food fan, you can be friends with her.

"I'm done writing, I'm done writing. Hurry up and come out, I'm downstairs."

Upon hearing this, Zhang Zixuan quickly ran to meet up with his friends.

Today, a group of friends frantically did their homework, all for this moment: to go and enjoy Boss Lu's fried chicken cutlets together!

When they arrived at the entrance of the Wumei Fitness Center, the long queue was astonishing.

It takes at least half an hour to get a table, and the biggest worry is whether they'll even be available when it's their turn.

Zhang Zixuan quickly told his friends to line up, while he ran over to Lu Feng to strike up a conversation, "Boss Lu, business is booming! How many chicken cutlets do you have left?"

At this moment, Lu Feng's busiest thing wasn't his hands, but his mouth: "Open your plastic bag. Get rid of the trouble behind it as soon as possible, so as not to delay your time to enjoy the delicious food."

"This is terrible," Lu Feng thought to himself. He didn't even have time to drink water. If he stopped, it would affect the taste of the fried chicken cutlets. No one else could sell fried chicken cutlets with such precise timing as him, putting one in the fryer and taking one out almost every half minute, quickly brushing on the sauce, packaging it, and then precisely throwing it into the customer's plastic bag.

In just one hour, he sold more than 100 fried chicken cutlets.

Upon seeing Zhang Zixuan, his eyes lit up. "Zixuan's here! We saved some for you. Could you help me count the number of chicken cutlets the customers ordered..."

Before she could finish speaking, she immediately reminded the customers to open the plastic bags and continued to tell Zhang Zixuan, "I'm afraid they'll be queuing up for nothing."

"Alright." Zhang Zixuan accepted the task and went to help him with the statistics one by one.

A moment later, he ran over to Lu Feng and said, "Just right, it's about time for us. We don't need to make anyone else wait in line."

Just then, the crowd turned their attention to the roadside. Zhang Zixuan also turned his head and saw a white sedan with blue paint.

In the city, law enforcement vehicles are always so conspicuous.

After Ah Mei shouted "police car," she quickly realized she had shouted the wrong thing.

Despite their resemblance, they are not police cars, but vehicles belonging to the Market Supervision Bureau.

Two people in dark blue uniforms got out of the car quickly; their armbands read "Market Supervision and Law Enforcement."

After realizing she had made a mistake, Amei said sullenly, "That's strange. The Market Supervision Bureau has never come here before, especially not at this time of day. Aren't they usually off work?"

"We didn't come before because it was just us," Sister Liu chuckled. "Now, isn't there one more person?"

Yang Yuyan and Amei looked at Sister Liu in surprise. Sister Liu was stunned for a moment, then realized what she meant. "I didn't call them. Can you just call law enforcement officers without any evidence?"

Only Sister Gao, standing to the side, stared blankly at the long queue, lost in thought.

As expected, the two law enforcement officers headed straight for Lufeng.

The lively chattering group instantly fell silent, with the sizzling sound of the oil pan becoming the only background noise.

The man leading the group was probably in his forties, with a square face and a rather serious expression.

He asked Lu Feng, "Excuse me, are you the stall owner?" His voice wasn't loud, but it had a penetrating quality.

It was obvious that the other party was simply verifying the information again. Lu Feng stopped what he was doing, nodded, and said, "It's me. May I ask what brings you here?"

The two men's conversation was perfectly transparent. Lu Feng knew in his heart that he was probably in trouble, just like the turkey noodle stall owner he had encountered last week. This time, law enforcement officers had come, making it even more difficult.

The man with the square face immediately showed his identification. "Hello, sir. We are from the Market Supervision Administration. My name is Song Liao. Please cooperate with our investigation."

"We received a report from the public," Song Liao continued, his gaze sweeping over the small stall, "that the fried chicken cutlets you're selling may contain illegal additives."

"Illegal additives?" Lu Feng was stunned.

Song Liao said, enunciating each word clearly, "Poppy shells, or poppy shell components."

The team erupted in chaos.

"No way, no wonder it tastes so good!"

"I've only heard that noodle shops and hot pot restaurants like to put it on; is it also on fried chicken cutlets?"

"Damn, even if it tastes delicious, you can't do it like that!"

The crowd scattered with a whoosh, but most people stayed and gathered around, waiting to see what would happen.

"Impossible!" Zhang Zixuan exclaimed first. "Boss Lu's food is so delicious, how could he possibly add random ingredients!"

"Exactly!" The burly Du Siqi squeezed in. "We've been eating instant noodles for over a week!"

Song Liao ignored the children's protests.

He was actually quite speechless; he was having dinner when he was forced to go on this mission. He gave a wink to his young female colleague next to him.

The female colleague stepped forward, opened her toolbox, which contained various sampling tools.

"I didn't add any ingredients," Lu Feng argued. The items purchased by the system all came from a real-world brand called "Paoding," and there were corresponding documents and purchase orders, which could withstand scrutiny.

"We're not questioning you, we just received a report. This is just a step in the testing process, we need to take samples and send them for testing," Song Liao patiently explained. "In addition, please show us your business license, food business license, health certificate, and stall permit, etc."

Lu Feng's heart sank.

The health certificate goes without saying; he got one when he first started selling spicy chicken noodles. But he also looked into business licenses and food business permits. Theoretically, mobile stalls like his shouldn't need these, but they should have a food vendor registration card.

The system task came quickly, so he asked his friend Fang Yuan to handle it for him. However, the certificate was delayed, and his current sale of it would be considered acting first and asking for permission later.

He could only pull out his health certificate, hand it over, and tell the truth, "As for the others, I've read the regulations. Temporary food vendors can register first, and I've already started the process, but I didn't expect to still not receive it after two days..."

Song Liao has worked at the Market Supervision Bureau for twenty years. How could he not know these things? Many vendors don't even know they need to apply for this permit.

But even with a report, he still has to act according to the law. "According to regulations, if you are operating without a license or suspected of adding illegal substances, you need to bring samples for testing. If the test results are fine, you can apply for a new registration card next week."

He paused, then said, "But you can't continue operating today."