Chen Xian's business reputation is getting better and better. As soon as he sets up his stall, familiar customers come over to inquire.
"Boss Chen, I'd like a serving of your braised pork. Your food is so delicious, I can never get enough."
Chen Xian felt apologetic.
"I'm so sorry, when I went to buy pork today, the butcher said they were all sold out. They're selling stewed chicken now. Would you be interested in trying some?"
The iron pot exudes an enticing aroma, and there is a bright, bubbling broth.
The chicken is tender and has a golden-brown color.
Swallow your saliva gently.
"Okay, just give me one."
Half-joking.
"I've spoiled my palate with your pork. If your chicken isn't good, I'll just walk away and won't pay."
"If a few people say the taste is bad, it may be a matter of personal taste. But if many people say it tastes bad, then it's my problem. If that happens, then it's my problem."
The Chen family will no longer sell this meat.
Li Niang smiled gently.
How could it not taste good? When they were at home, they practically wanted to swallow their tongues.
The man gently picked it up with his chopsticks, took a bite, and then his eyes lit up and narrowed. He stretched out his finger and patted his belly.
"One more, one more, I want to take it home."
It smells delicious.
"I can't believe this ordinary chicken, which tastes so-so when I cook it at home, becomes so delicious at your Chen family's place!"
Chen Xian smiled and said, "That's professionalism."
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