Teaching building.
Class 9, Grade 12.
There were seven servings of fried rice on the classroom windowsill, and Feng Liang immediately saw his name.
He carried the takeout back to the classroom, untied the bag, took out the fried rice, and found a piece of toilet paper.
"Hehe, Junior Wang, you've thought this through quite thoroughly."
He ate while reading, not wanting to waste a single second.
He quickly finished his fried rice and wiped his mouth with a tissue.
I went out, threw my lunchbox into the trash can, turned around and went back to the classroom. I looked up at the clock on the wall; it was 12:10.
Before, when I went to the restaurant to queue for food, I couldn't get back before 12:30.
"I saved twenty minutes of lunch time, that's a win." He smiled slightly and continued working on his math problems.
Girls' dormitory building.
Aunt Zhao Li knocked on the door of dormitory 103, "Hello classmates, which sister is Zhao Caijuan?"
“Yes, that’s me.” A girl with short, ear-length hair sat up from the top bunk.
"Caijuan, your fried rice is here." Zhao Li hurriedly went to her bedside.
"Oh my, you really brought it to my dorm?" Zhao Caijuan looked at her watch; it was just 12:12.
She was just trying her luck, but she didn't expect the other party to actually send it, and so quickly at that.
“The person selling fried rice is my nephew, and he keeps his word,” Zhao Li said with a smile. “Little sister, eat it while it’s hot.”
The aroma of fried rice wafted out, and Zhao Caijuan immediately sat down at the table to eat.
"Hey sis, are you still giving them out? Can you give me a bowl too?" another girl said.
"Delivered! One yuan a bowl, you pay and I'll bring you the food right away," Zhao Li said hurriedly.
"My name is Qin Ningning." The girl took out a one-yuan coin from her pocket. "I prefer milder flavors, so please use less salt."
Zhao Li remembered her name, hurriedly went downstairs, and met her husband at the entrance of the boys' dormitory building.
"Honey, have you finished delivering all your takeout?"
"I've already delivered them all. What about you?"
Li Guixi smiled broadly, "As long as we have work to do, Dapeng will pay us wages."
Zhao Li took out a dollar and said, "When you deliver the food, don't forget to help Da Peng get some business. I managed to get one."
"Wow, look at you, you've got eight of them." Li Guixi pulled out eight yuan. "That's my own nephew, do I need you to remind me?"
The couple started bickering as usual, and together they went to the school gate and handed over the nine yuan for the food order to Wang Peng.
"Thank you, Second Uncle, thank you, Second Aunt." Wang Peng was very happy.
The elderly couple were indeed very dedicated to his business, which was worth two hundred yuan in wages.
Kong Erying's business is clearly better than this one.
Li Guixi whispered a suggestion, "Dapeng, your rice is very cheap, why don't we start a price war with her?"
"No, it's easy to lower prices, but difficult to raise them. We can't lower prices."
Wang Peng turned to look at Kong Erying and whispered, "Let's see how long she can keep this up, it's a business that doesn't make money."
During the afternoon classes, Wang Peng received another 83 orders.
Most people are lazy. If they can have fried rice delivered to their door, why go out and buy it themselves?
Du Lei said timidly, "Brother Peng, eighty-three orders, that's a lot. Is the food delivery business too easy?"
"You call eighty-three a lot?" Wang Peng sneered at him. "There are two thousand teachers and students in the whole school, and there are only eighty-three."
"Hehe!" Du Lei scratched his head. "Your business is even better than before. If Dong Biao's mother wants to steal your business again, she'll have to copy your homework."
"Let her copy it." Wang Peng didn't care. "Brother Lei, let's make a bet. How many days do you think Kong Erying can last?"
Du Lei held up three fingers. "If I were her, I could only last three days at most."
...
Kong Erying persisted for half a month.
That morning, at Dong Biao's house.
Dong Biao stood in the living room with his head down, his head covered in his father Dong Jiaqi's spittle, and he felt like he didn't need to wash his hair anymore.
One second he was in class, the next he was driven home by his own father and given a severe scolding.
"You brat, you don't study properly, your grades have dropped so much, all you do is play games all day."
"I've checked, it's not Wang Peng's fault at all, you two just had a few words exchanged."
"You actually dared to give your mother such bad advice, losing money on Wang Peng's business, and in the end, he's still doing just fine."
As Dong Jiaqi spoke, he grew angrier and angrier. He picked up the Little Tyrant learning machine from the table with both hands and slammed it heavily to the ground.
Bang--
The learning machine was smashed to pieces, with parts scattered all over the floor, but he was still not satisfied and stomped on it heavily.
Dong Biao was too scared to say a word, fearing that his father would smash him after smashing the learning machine.
"Old Dong, don't be angry." Kong Erying stood in front of her son. "It was all my idea, it has nothing to do with the child."
"A doting mother spoils her son!" Dong Jiaqi exclaimed, his face flushed. "You don't realize how serious things are; our family is about to be finished!"
Five days ago, an outbreak of avian influenza occurred in Ping'an County and surrounding areas, resulting in the mass deaths of chickens, ducks and geese, and the epidemic alarmed the provincial authorities.
The Dong family supplies feed to fifteen chicken farms, and in order to increase sales, they always give the feed to the chicken farms on credit.
Once the chicken farm has sold the chickens and made a profit, then we'll settle the accounts with him.
But the sudden outbreak of the epidemic caused the fourteen chicken farms to go bankrupt, and the owners ran away, leaving the Dong family with no way to collect their debts.
Only Li Longfei cleared out his chicken farm in advance and was not affected by the epidemic.
Debtors are coming to his door demanding payment, and Dong Jiaqi is already overwhelmed with problems.
“Old Dong, the conflict between Dong Biao and Wang Peng is a small matter. I know you’ve been very upset lately, but you can’t take it out on Dong Biao,” Kong Erying said.
"It's all your fault!" Dong Jiaqi pointed at Dong Biao. "Go apologize to Wang Peng, do you hear me?"
"Old Dong!" Kong Erying exclaimed anxiously, "Why apologize to Wang Peng? Is it even necessary?"
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