Chapter 84: The Business Prodigy, Qian Xiaomin!

To ensure a high turnover rate in the shop and prevent stingy customers from ordering the cheapest black coffee and lounging all afternoon, every set meal comes with a time limit. For example, the simplest sandwich-and-orange-juice combo allows a customer to sit at a scattered table for only thirty minutes; if they wish to linger longer, they must order something else.

When time is up, staff rarely enforce the rule harshly. Instead, the beautiful waitresses gently coax the guests. They might say, “Hey, big brother, you ate so little today—are you feeling unwell?” Such words are subtle reminders. Then they deliberately praise those who order a lot: “Wow! Big brother has such a good appetite. Truly, strong men have abundant desires in every sense~”

This tactic spurs a fierce competition among patrons, and since the individual prices are no longer as extravagant as those in the former exotic pleasure houses—where one might spend a fortune in a single night—customers can now visit daily. There’s no need to save up for ten or fifteen days before gritting their teeth and splurging.

This steady, gentle approach has attracted many people who never would have frequented the old pleasure houses, while retaining the purified core clientele. Internally, the lower price per customer means the shop no longer needs to pursue a luxury route. Training periods are much shorter, allowing many displaced people of other races to find work.

After just a week or two of training, newcomers can start earning, and the number of staff far surpasses the previous era. Each month, shops compete for top performance; the winning staff receive real bonuses, keeping everyone motivated and eager to develop new profitable projects. Each shop also selects a sales champion internally, ensuring staff always maintain professional service toward customers.

With each link tightly connected, Spring Leaf Plain has transformed into a money-making machine, yet customers never feel it’s a merciless gold pit ready to drain them dry at the slightest misstep.

“So this is what they call a gentle cut?” Wang Chen listened in astonishment.

Qian Xiaomin continued enthusiastically, “Next, I want to collaborate with various cultural products—anime, films, games—and launch pop-up cosplay stores offline…”

“We’ll talk about those later,” Wang Chen quickly interrupted, feeling that if he let Qian Xiaomin continue, night would fall before she finished.

“As long as the shop can balance its books, support everyone, and preserve the bare minimum of dignity, I’m at ease,” Wang Chen mused. “As for fully escaping from such a soft industry, it’ll have to be step by step. The road is long.”

“No need to worry about that,” Qian Xiaomin replied, ready to sing her next plan, “my next-next-next step is to cultivate our own idol group…”

“Phew—” Wang Chen quickly interrupted her spell. “You handle the specifics; I’ll focus on the big picture.”

He smiled wryly. “I’m beginning to think you’re a bit wasted here. You should be on a much larger stage.”

Qian Xiaomin responded solemnly, “I don’t feel that way at all. Because I, too, am of a different race, I’m willing to contribute my insignificant strength for everyone’s better future.”

“You’re of another race?” Wang Chen asked curiously. “I wouldn’t have guessed.”

“My grandmother was from the Foxfolk, my grandfather was human. My father then married a human woman, so it’s not obvious,” Qian Xiaomin explained with a smile.

“I see.” Wang Chen suddenly understood. No wonder—the Foxfolk were said to be born merchants; even children as young as seven or eight could do business.

“Well, I’ll leave everything in your hands. Call me if you need anything.” Wang Chen paid the bill and rose to leave.

Qian Xiaomin stood respectfully by the door, watching him depart.

…

Walking along the street, Wang Chen’s mind echoed with Qian Xiaomin’s business blueprint.

“So there are such interesting things beyond the path of a professional,” Wang Chen sighed. “It seems that even if my awakened profession wasn’t ideal and I couldn’t become a powerful professional, it doesn’t mean my life would be mediocre.”

He pondered for a while, then shook his head with a self-deprecating smile. “But if not for the career-changing quest, how would I have met Na’er, let alone everything that followed?”

“So in the end, becoming a powerful professional is necessary. Only then can you tackle many things with confidence and seize countless opportunities.”

Thinking this, Wang Chen’s gaze grew resolute once more, and he strode forward.

…

Unity Trading House.

Wang Chen entered as if returning home, instructing a servant to summon Manager Liu and making his way straight to the VIP lounge.

Soon enough, Manager Liu arrived, his signature amiable smile on his face.

“Mr. Wang, you’ve come at the perfect time. A friend just sent me some excellent black tea—please try it.”

With that, Manager Liu handed a box of tea leaves to the servant, instructing him to brew the tea. He took his seat opposite Wang Chen, chatting leisurely.

Wang Chen endured the small talk for quite some time. After the tea was brewed and appraised, Manager Liu finally asked with a cheerful smile, “May I ask what brings you here today, Mr. Wang?”

A flash of light danced at Wang Chen’s fingertips as he placed materials and equipment found on Mist Island onto the table. “First, I’d like to sell these items.”

He then pulled a sheet of paper across the table, dipped a gilt pen, and wrote a few lines.

“Second, I’d like you to help me find these things.” Wang Chen handed Manager Liu the list of materials required for his career-changing quest.

Manager Liu had the servant call for an appraiser, then examined the list.

Wang Chen noticed a slight furrow in Manager Liu’s brow before he smiled. “Mr. Wang, our stocks do have the tough sinew of the Wild Ox, but it has to be transferred from a branch. The earliest you’ll receive it is tomorrow.”

“In that case, reserve it for me. Waiting a day is no trouble,” Wang Chen replied.

“Certainly.” Manager Liu agreed with a smile, then changed the subject. “As for the Cold Sunstone and Celestial Starwood Core, I can’t guarantee we’ll be able to procure those. I’ll need to make inquiries first.”

“Are those two items very rare?” Wang Chen asked, frowning.

“Well, you could say so.” Manager Liu spoke slowly. “They weren’t originally rare—though valuable, they could still be found.”

“But recently, trouble has arisen at the places where these items are produced, so there’s currently no output. What’s circulating in the market is all stockpiled inventory.”

“Trouble? Can you tell me more?” Wang Chen asked, puzzled.

“Of course, Mr. Wang—there’s nothing I wouldn’t share with you,” Manager Liu replied with a smile.

He sipped his black tea. “Let me start by telling you about the Cold Sunstone…”