After the divorce, he took care of his child and sold fried rice; his ex-wife was filled with regret

He turned to look at the blackboard on the wall.

"888 per pot?" The middle-aged man gasped.

But seeing Li Dayong sweating profusely as he ate, and smelling the clean, pure aroma of meat in the hall, his stomach was completely whetted.

"Boss, give me a pot too!" The middle-aged man gritted his teeth, walked to the cashier, and scanned the code to pay.

A few more individual customers came in. Some shook their heads at the price and obediently ordered beef noodles. Others, however, were so tempted by the aroma that they gathered in groups of two or three and ordered a pot of mutton together.

Before eight o'clock, five copper hot pots had already been set up in the hall.

The charcoal fire glowed red-hot, steam billowing out. The entire hall of the Lin family shop was warm and cozy, with a thick layer of condensation forming on the glass doors, completely shutting out the cold wind from outside.

Just then, the windproof curtain was suddenly ripped open.

Qin Lang hunched his shoulders, put his hands in the pockets of his down jacket, and stomped his feet as he strode in.

"I'm freezing! This awful weather!"

Qin Lang had just uttered a complaint when he stopped in his tracks.

He stared blankly at the steaming scene in the hall and smelled the rich aroma of mutton in the air.

"Brother Lin, have you switched to a hot pot restaurant today?" Qin Lang asked through the glass as he walked to the open kitchen.

Lin Fan was cutting meat, his knife never stopping.

"New dish: lamb hot pot."

Qin Lang leaned closer to the blackboard, glanced at the prices, and without a word, turned to Su Xiaoxiao and shouted:

"Little assistant, give me a pot! And an extra pound of meat!"

Qin Lang found an empty table and sat down. Lin Yi brought him some tea.

Not long after, Lin Fan brought out the copper pot and two neatly arranged plates of mutton.

Qin Lang picked up a piece of meat with his chopsticks and put it into the pot to cook.

He'd eaten countless delicacies, including plenty of hot pot meals in Beijing costing thousands of yuan per meal. But when he tasted that piece of lamb coated in a special sauce, his eyes lit up.

"Brother Lin, where did you get this mutton from?" Qin Lang swallowed the meat and turned to look at the kitchen.

"The meat is firm and has no gamey smell at all. This is definitely not ordinary mutton; even free-range sheep from Inner Mongolia don't have this level of freshness."

Lin Fan wiped the cleaver clean on a rag and put it back in the knife holder.

"The sourcing channels are a trade secret," Lin Fan replied calmly.

Qin Lang laughed and didn't ask any further questions. He lowered his head and continued to eat the mutton on his plate, sweating profusely as he ate.

The diners in the hall have come and gone in waves.

Anyone who smells this aroma upon entering the store, and who has enough money in their pocket, will almost always order a pot.

The charcoal fire in the copper pot never went out, and Lin Fan's hands, which were cutting meat in the kitchen, hardly stopped.

By 9:30 a.m., the morning rush hour was completely over.

The hall quieted down. Lin Yi took a dry towel and methodically wiped the water stains off the table, then put the empty copper pot into the kitchen.

Su Xiaoxiao sat behind the cashier, reviewing the morning's bills.

She stared at the transaction figures on the tablet, her mouth agape in astonishment.

"Brother Lin..." Su Xiaoxiao looked up at Lin Fan, who was washing his hands in the kitchen.

Lin Fan turned off the tap and took a towel to dry his hands.

He knew exactly what was going on. With a pot priced at 888 yuan, plus the extra lamb ordered separately, it was no surprise that the revenue would double.

He brought up the system panel in his mind and glanced at the points balance in the upper right corner.

The numbers are jumping at a visible speed. At this rate, the system will be able to upgrade again in just a few days.

Lin Fan draped the towel on the rack, then turned and walked to the refrigerator.

The amount of mutton consumed this morning was very large; half of the hind leg meat from the two Tan sheep had already been used up.

He opened the cabinet door, counted the remaining amount of meat, and prepared for the lunch rush.

It was nearing noon. The weather in Jiangcheng had worsened. The dry, cold wind carried fine ice particles, which rustled against the roller shutter door.

It was 11:30. A black Land Rover Range Rover pulled up to a stop on the side of the road.

Li Dayong, wrapped in a thick military overcoat, jumped out. A burly middle-aged man, wearing a mink coat and a Lei Feng hat, got out of the passenger seat and immediately started stamping his feet.

"Dayong, the weather in the South is truly unbearable." The man exhaled a puff of white breath, his voice thick with a northern accent.

"I'm up north where it's minus twenty degrees Celsius, and I can get through it wearing just a down jacket. Here it's minus two or three degrees Celsius, and my joints are so cold they're oozing saliva."

"Old Jin, come on, let me take you inside to warm up and have some good food." Li Dayong patted him on the shoulder.

The man called Lao Jin was actually named Jin Fugui, a big boss in the mining business in northern China. He came to Jiangcheng this time to discuss investing in engineering and building materials with Li Dayong.

The two lifted the windproof curtain and entered the hall.

A wave of heat hit him in the face. Old Jin took off his hat and shook off the ice crystals: "It's quite warm in here. Is this a hot pot restaurant?" "We have hot pot today. Old Jin, have a seat." Li Dayong pulled out a chair.

Old Jin picked up the white tea Lin Yi had poured and took a sip. His eyes brightened slightly, knowing the tea wasn't cheap. But when he looked up, his gaze fell on the small blackboard: "Premium Charcoal-Grilled Lamb Hot Pot, 888 yuan/pot."

Old Jin couldn't help but laugh, turning his head with a hint of teasing: "Dayong, you brought me to a place like this to eat mutton that costs over 800 yuan a pot? Are you sure you're not getting ripped off like a fat sheep?"

Li Dayong held his teacup and slowly blew on the steam, saying, "I've spent my whole life working on construction sites, who can take advantage of me? I just had this mutton hot pot this morning. I was still thinking about it after the meeting, so I dragged you here again for lunch."

Old Jin leaned back in his chair and shook his head: "It's not that I'm being a spoilsport. I grew up in the north and have eaten more lamb than you've ever seen."

"I eat the best Yanchi Tan sheep and Inner Mongolian free-range lamb several times a month, don't I?"

"The meat you import from the south is either frozen or farmed. It has a strong gamey smell and the meat is tough. Selling it for over 800 yuan, isn't that ripping people off?"

Li Dayong wasn't angry at all; instead, he laughed even more heartily: "Old Jin, when the food is served later, if you think it has a slight gamey smell, I'll give you 20% of the profits from the building materials channels in the north."

Old Jin raised an eyebrow: "Alright. You said it yourself. I'm going to try it today."

Li Dayong placed the order. Lin Fan was in the kitchen lighting charcoal and adding broth, quickly slicing a pound of mutton. "Serve up." The copper hot pot was brought to the table. The glowing red fruitwood charcoal emitted heat, and the clear broth quickly began to boil.

Old Jin glanced down at the bottom of the pot. The water was clear, with two slices of ginger and a few pieces of scallion floating on top; no spices had been added.

"Just water?" Old Jin's expression was strange. "Selling mutton in the south, and you don't even prepare a broth? If there's even a slight problem with this meat, eating it will make you feel nauseous for half a day."

Li Dayong tapped the rim of the bowl with his chopsticks: "Let's look at the meat."

Old Jin's gaze fell on the two plates of freshly sliced ​​mutton, and his eyes froze instantly.