Upon hearing this, Gao Jiazhi looked at Lin Zhou.
"Boss, can't you tell me where you set up your stall?"
Lin Zhou: ......
Young people these days are pretty direct, huh?
"What do you think is the purpose of setting up a stall?"
Lin Zhou asked, feigning seriousness.
Gao Jiazhi pondered for a moment, then replied with a mixture of doubt and certainty: "Make money?"
Logically speaking, the purpose of work is to earn money. If you have money, who would want to work?
Except for those who love their work!
But Gao Jiazhi's intuition told him that since the boss had asked this question, the standard answer might not be correct.
"Yes, I'm not short of money, so why am I setting up a stall?"
Lin Zhou asked, trying to coax him.
"Love...hobbies?"
"Congratulations on getting it right. Since it's a hobby, it's better to be free."
If he joined the group, he was afraid that if he changed locations to set up his stall one day, customers wouldn't be able to find him and would end up eating him.
If we can't find him, then there's no problem.
"Wow, that's so cool! Boss, you can even turn a hobby into a skill. If you made this your profession, how good would your cooking be!"
Kao Chia-chih expressed his shock.
He initially thought that such delicious fried chicken might be the result of a family recipe passed down through generations, developed over many years to achieve this flavor.
I never expected it to be just one of the boss's hobbies.
I've really learned something new.
Lin Zhou had already witnessed the diners' madness.
They are increasingly keeping their identities completely hidden.
If this gets exposed, won't I be constantly being pressured by customers to set up a stall?
Just thinking about those days is devastating.
For example, he was still asleep early in the morning when a customer who was eating porridge called him, urging him to go sell porridge.
I was woken up by elementary school students at midday to sell candied hawthorns.
Or you might be woken up in the middle of the night by someone asking, "Boss, why aren't you selling fried chicken yet?"
Wow! Just thinking about it is terrifying.
Lin Zhou was startled by his own overactive imagination.
There's no way I'll give out my contact information!
The system is uncontrollable. If there are even more outrageous tasks in the future, the diners will just assume it was his idea, and he will become the scapegoat. That's terrifying!
Lin Zhou shook his head, banishing these terrible thoughts, and focused intently on the fried chicken in the pot.
Fang Jun shook his head helplessly as he saw yet another person who had been fooled by the boss.
I didn't expect the boss to be so good at keeping secrets!
......
"Boss, is the crab roe fried chicken really made with crab roe, given how expensive it is?"
Passersby noticed the two different prices and asked curiously.
The price difference is significant, almost double. If you don't ask clearly, you might not be willing to buy it.
"Yes, crab roe fried chicken is made by steaming fresh hairy crabs, extracting the crab roe and crab meat, stir-frying them into crab roe sauce, mixing it into a batter, coating the chicken, and then frying it. The cost is high, so the price is naturally high as well."
Lin Zhou uses only high-quality materials, which gives him extra confidence in his advertising.
Look at the production cost; if you put it elsewhere, it would definitely sell for a higher price.
It's just that roadside stalls can't sell things at high prices.
"Then give me some crab roe fried chicken nuggets to try."
The customers were drawn in by the aroma of the fried chicken and reluctantly bought a serving of crab roe fried chicken for fifty dollars.
If this doesn't taste good, he'll vomit.
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