17: Chapter 17: A Terrible Price 17: Chapter 17: A Terrible Price Editor: Dragon Boat Translation Huh.
After finishing a large plate of delicious food, the round-faced young lady turned her head to look.
The troublemaking diners at the table were gone at some point.
She widened her eyes and said, “Those thugs just left like that?”
“If they didn’t leave in shame, what else would they do?” Neon had also had his fill.
Although his Burgundy Red Wine Stewed Beef scored just 60 out of 100 according to the system, he ate happily.
This was the first Western dish he had cooked since arriving in this world.
The insights from his previous life, combined with his hands-on ability since he was three in this life, made his once restless heart suddenly calm, giving him a feeling called serenity.
“Weren’t they here to extort?” the round-faced young lady wondered.
“Anyone with a bit of sense would back off after tasting my cooking,” Neon shrugged.
“Otherwise, if I really called over people from the Chef Union, they’d be the ones in trouble.”
Speaking in pure Mandarin, the round-faced young lady wasn’t surprised when she heard about the chefs’ association in Neon territory.
She nodded earnestly.
“Are you from my country?” the goddess-like young lady suddenly asked.
“Yeah, I’m from China.
Although I went to elementary, middle, and soon high school in Neon, I’m really Chinese.
You can tell from how standard my Mandarin is!” Neon laughed.
“Waiter, the bill, please.”
Having had his fill and planning to return to the small shop soon to continue studying cooking, Neon waved at a waitress.
She immediately came over and bowed respectfully.
Xiazhiqiu instructed that your table’s on the house.”
Neon was taken aback and looked around the restaurant.
Only then did he notice a housewife standing by the cash register.
Judging by her back, she had an elegant figure with the unique charm of a mature woman.
After an explanation from the waitress, Neon suddenly understood.
It turned out that Chef Xiazhiqiu was the owner of this Starlight Revolving Western Restaurant.
He was even the head chef and had bought the entire few-story building with the storefront, looking quite well-off.
“Thank you for your trouble.”
Xiazhiqiu stood in front of Neon, continuously bowing to him in thanks, her dignified and beautiful face full of helplessness.
“Although my husband was once a student at Far Moon, Starlight Revolving Western Restaurant is his first venture into the culinary industry.
It’s also his first time as the head chef.
Before this, he hadn’t practiced his culinary skills for twenty years…”
No wonder Chef Xiazhiqiu was stumped by a few food-related hooligans and almost lost his composure.
It turned out he really had no experience.
However, investing in a restaurant and being the head chef himself showed that Xiazhiqiu Yingshu was still passionate about culinary arts.
You could say he was a head chef with a dream.
After all, twenty years had passed since he dropped out of Far Moon, and yet Xiazhiqiu Yingshu’s culinary skills didn’t fall behind.
On the contrary, they were no longer at a student level and had attained the basic standard of a head chef.
This was truly commendable.
Dropping out of Far Moon was likely due to being eliminated in harsh competition.
Some people fell into despair and never touched a professional kitchen again.
Yet others, like Xiazhiqiu Yingshu, even as successful individuals, never gave up on their culinary skills.
Neon sneered at such a notion.
Most people weren’t even at the stage where talent mattered.
It was hard work and persistence that were the basic qualities needed for a chef to keep progressing.
Regardless, Neon was optimistic about Xiazhiqiu Yingshu.
Under the grateful gaze of the Xiazhiqiu couple and a group of assistants and waitstaff, Neon left the Starlight Revolving Western Restaurant.
Neon received a lifetime free dining card for the restaurant, and also gained two tag-alongs.
“Why are you following me?”
After stuffing the card into his pants pocket, Neon shoved his hands into his pockets and looked at the two fellow countrywomen in exasperation.
“We need a food guide, why don’t you show us around?” The round-faced young lady grinned.
“How about we pay you ten thousand yen a day?”
Neon gave her a look as if she were foolish.
“Miss, do you think I’m so young and gullible?”
“Even for ten thousand yen, working an eight-hour day means only 1,250 yen per hour.
Didn’t you know, recently in Tokyo, low-income earners went on strike for an hourly minimum wage increase to 1,500 yen…”
The round-faced young lady blushed upon hearing this.
“Besides, being a guide is exhausting.
My family has its own little shop.
If I went out to work like a child laborer, the old man would tear me apart.” Neon twitched his mouth.
“A Chinese restaurant…”
As soon as he spoke, Neon stopped, slightly regretting it.
Sure enough, the round-faced young lady immediately exclaimed, “A Chinese restaurant?
I wasn’t full at the Western restaurant, so hurry and take us there…”
“How much can you eat!”
Thus, when they returned to his small shop, Neon’s Chinese Restaurant, which hadn’t seen regular customers for a long time, gained two female guests from his homeland.
The old man was resting in the backyard and did not appear.
Neon slipped into the kitchen, changed into a clean chef’s outfit, stood behind the counter, and pointed to the wooden sign hanging on the left wall of the shop.
“The menu and prices are written on there.
“It looks old from the outside, but inside, it’s antique and elegant.
I’m starting to look forward to the food here!”
The round-faced young lady mumbled softly and dragged her friend to the left wall.
Pieces of original wooden plaques, two fingers wide, had dish names written in traditional brush strokes, with the price marked at the bottom.
“Sichuan Cuisine—Boiled Fish, Couple’s Sliced Beef in Chili Sauce, Kung Pao Chicken.”
“Cantonese Cuisine—Yam-Cooked Pork, Radish Stewed Beef Brisket, Pan-Fried Egg Fu Yung.”
“Shandong Cuisine—Nine-Turned Intestines, First-Class Tofu, Sweet and Sour Pork.”
“Su Cuisine—Dongpo Pork, Yangzhou Fried Rice, Squirrel Sea Bass.”
Judging by the dish names, they were all traditional Chinese cuisines.
However, upon a closer look at the prices marked at the bottom of each plaque, the two female tourists widened their eyes and rubbed their eyes, thinking they were seeing things.
Boiled Fish, 4,000 yen.
Yam-Cooked Pork, 3,500 yen.
Dongpo Pork, 3,500 yen.
After a quick glance, the round-faced female tourist took a cold breath and said, “The cheapest Yangzhou Fried Rice is actually 3,000 yen a serving…
Nowadays, a thousand yen roughly converted to 60 RMB, making three thousand yen fried rice about 180 RMB.
Compared to Tokyo’s cost of living, most people in Neon spent 400-800 yen on a set meal or fast food, which was about 20 to 50 RMB.
Therefore, in Xia’s Chinese Restaurant, ordering a small dish or a fried rice equated to an average person’s entire day’s meal cost.
This pricing was just extremely, extremely high!
“So, do you still want to eat?” Neon crossed his arms behind the counter and shrugged, having long anticipated the reaction from the two fellow countrywomen.
Logically, with the craftsmanship he and his old man had, the restaurant shouldn’t be without customers.
The problem lay in the prices!
Neon had complained to the old man more than once about the outrageous pricing, but the old man’s response was always a casual “Hmm.” What else could he say?
Fewer customers were okay—it meant more leisure.