Courtyard House: My Time Travel is a Bit Too Strong

"Sold 10,753 bowls?" Liu Yu's hand trembled, and he almost dropped his chopsticks on the table.

"Two people working together can finish a bowl in less than two seconds on average; when there are four or five people working together, they can finish 10,000 bowls in six or seven hours. What's so strange about that?" Ma Tao said casually.

"The noodle delivery guy came twice, and the box delivery guy came three times..." Li Xiong shook his head and sighed, his tone full of genuine emotion.

"Our family accounts for 20%, which is about 16,000," Xu Li said with a smile as she calculated.

"Brother Quan's share is 40%, which is a little over 30,000," Liu Yu added.

"When are you going to treat us to a fancy meal when you make 30,000 a day and tens of millions a year?" Ma Tao joked.

"If you dare close the doors for a day, I'll book a private room tomorrow," Lin Quan waved his hand.

"Forget it, I'm counting on saving money to buy a house and a car," Ma Tao shook his head.

"In Haizhou, housing is scarce, and cars are expensive," Li Xiong interjected.

"Work a full three years, and you'll get residency, a car, and a house—you won't miss a thing," Ma Tao grinned.

"With daily sales of 100,000 and annual sales of over 30 million, we should have received our household registration certificates long ago," Liu Yu said confidently.

"If we can hold on for another two or three months, once the weather gets cold, the cold noodles will only be cold by noon at most," Li Xiong added.

Haizhou is located on the southeast coast, and even in winter, it is warm during the day.

Some people from inland or northern regions still enjoy ice cream in winter, so even if the cold noodle business is affected a bit, it won't be a major blow.

"If it weren't for Brother Quan's help, I'd still be tightening screws in the factory right now." Ma Tao lowered his head, took a sip of wine, and said in a deeper voice.

"Who isn't?" Li Xiong replied softly.

"Let's not talk about that, come on, cheers!" Lin Quan raised his glass.

Liu Yu downed his drink in one gulp, casually pulled out his phone, glanced at it, and blurted out, "Brother Quan, we're famous now."

"That's perfectly normal. There are internet celebrities everywhere these days. It would be strange if we weren't popular," Lin Quan said casually.

"How about we sell cold noodles via livestream? We can subsidize it?" Liu Yu suggested casually.

"Stop with all this fancy stuff. We can't even finish our work, why are you doing a live stream?" Ma Tao waved his hand.

"That's true." Liu Yu responded—if he really went live, and fans started spamming the chat with comments, how could he not reply? Of course he had to! But he wasn't tall, and his face wasn't particularly striking, so who would be willing to spend money to tip him?

"Ah Quan would be quite suited to live streaming," Li Xiong interjected.

"I don't plan on that for now," Lin Quan shook his head directly.

When I got home, I first took a medicinal bath, then drank a bowl of warm medicinal soup, and then typed on the computer while practicing standing meditation.

If the medicinal herbs are young, medicinal baths and decoctions will not be very effective.

Time flies, and more than twenty days have passed in the blink of an eye.

Just one month after receiving his business license, Lin Quan went to apply for a tax payment certificate.

Xiao Chu Wang was closed for a day, and Liu Yu, Li Xiong, and Ma Tao went with him.

The window clerk, Li Yan, looked up and asked, "What is your pre-tax net income?"

"A little over 1.97 million," Lin Quan answered readily.

"How many stores do you have?" Li Yan asked, somewhat surprised.

"Just one."

"A single store, netting nearly two million?" She was stunned for a moment, her eyes changing.

"Please calculate how much tax we need to pay and then issue us the tax payment certificate," Lin Quan urged.

There are countless online celebrities eyeing Little Chef King right now; even a single penny less could be seized upon and never let go.

With fame comes trouble, and with popularity comes trouble.

There are only so many people eating here, and their stomachs are only so big. After eating their cold noodles, how can they possibly fit anything else in their stomachs?

"How many people are there in the store in total?" Li Yan asked again.

"Seven."

Do you provide the five social insurances and one housing fund?

"pay."

"Taxes can be paid monthly or annually; if we open a branch in the future..." she casually offered several suggestions.

"Are we still going to open the branch?" Ma Tao asked, turning his head.

"I'm not opening it." Lin Quan shook his head.

"If we register a company, we can deduct a lot of expenses from taxes, such as buying equipment and renting premises," Li Xiong said, his eyes lighting up.

"It's better to keep it simple," Lin Quan said calmly.

"Okay, I'll do as you say." Li Xiong didn't insist any further.

"Seven people with a combined salary of 35,000 or less are exempt from taxes, and their social insurance and housing fund contributions are also exempt..." Li Yan said, looking down at her calculations.

After paying the taxes and obtaining the certificates, the four of them returned to Little Chef King together.

After paying social insurance, housing fund, and personal income tax, Lin Quan still had more than 480,000 yuan left in his account.

He also reported the income from the first few days of opening the store as tax.

Registering a company under the name of "Little Chef King" can indeed deduct taxes from buying a house and a car, but he felt it was unnecessary.

This cold noodle shop is a joint venture between Lin Quan, Liu Yu, Ma Tao, and Li Xiong. It's inappropriate to set up a shell company to save on taxes and then use it to buy houses and cars.

Having learned so many skills in the fantasy world, making money has long been a piece of cake for him.

He didn't want to go through so much trouble or waste his brainpower for such a small amount of money.

The novels featuring superhumans on Qidian.com have already started generating income for him.

Barring any unforeseen circumstances, Chung Kwok-hung will receive millions in royalties next month.

"Ah Quan, why are you sticking to this one shop?" Li Xiong asked while wiping his hands.

"Only unique businesses are valuable. Once branches open, the skill of making cold noodles will be lost sooner or later," Lin Quan said.

"This is good, I'm content," Ma Tao replied with a smile.

"The demand for noodles is too high. Should we hire two more people?" Liu Yu asked.

"We can hire them," Lin Quan nodded.

The shop is about 100 square meters. With a few more staff, the daily turnover can be increased.

The broth and chili oil must be made by the group themselves—this ensures the flavor remains consistent and their skills are not overlooked.

Back at the store, Li Xiong and Ma Tao handed over their bank cards without saying a word.

Xu Li glanced at Wang Manman and Chen Fang, and sighed quietly: Liu Yu manages the money, and she can't even touch the card.

After glancing at the time, Lin Quan turned and went into the kitchen to start making soup and chili oil.

Liu Yu and Chen Fang were below, while Ma Tao and Li Xiong poured oil and shook the noodles to separate them.

Wang Manman and Xu Li deftly sliced ​​cucumbers into thin strips.

It's almost 10 o'clock, and the guests are already waiting outside the door.

"Boss, can I go into the kitchen and take a look?" one of the anchors asked.

"Put on shoe covers first." Lin Quan gestured with his chin toward the cardboard box by the wall.

"Thank you!" the anchor said with a smile.

The camera pans across the kitchen—the floor is gleaming like a mirror, the stove is spotless, and the stainless steel appliances gleam with a cold light. The screen instantly fills with comments: "This is so clean!" "It's even tidier than my house!"

The other livestreamers also crowded around, wanting to go in, but Lin Quan waved his hand: "Only one is released per day."

"Ten yuan received via QuickPay... one hundred yuan received..."

As soon as the cold noodles went on sale, the payment notification sound rang out one after another, as crisp as a string of little bells.

At 1 p.m. sharp, the last customer pushed open the door and left with a takeout bag.

"Boss, I'm a rice ball..."

"We do not accept takeout orders."

"Boss, let's partner with our platform..."

The person who made the rice ball had just left when an Ele.me salesperson knocked on the door again.

Lin Quan never even considered launching a food delivery service—there were already long queues at the door, and he was too busy with his own work to do anything else, so why would he need to rely on low profit margins and high sales volume to keep things going?

A bowl of cold noodles earns 7.7 yuan when eaten in a restaurant; but after deducting commission, packaging, and delivery fees on the platform, the actual amount received is less than 7 yuan.