Chapter 63 - 58: Independent Doctor Liszt

Chapter 63: Chapter 58: Independent Doctor Liszt

Ning He was the first to notice him.

He wore a hat and a gray woolen overcoat, his expression serene. He was carrying the same small, square, aluminum-cased box as last time, his steps unhurried as he walked toward the shelter entrance.

His senses were sharp. He quickly noticed Ning He’s gaze, and when he looked over, he recognized her immediately.

His eyes swept over the cart in front of Ning He. The corner of his mouth curved up slightly, and he changed direction, heading toward her.

"I didn’t expect to see you here," Ning He said, speaking first.

The middle-aged man took off his hat, his tone playful. "I didn’t see any news about your stall in the group chat. Have you forgotten about us?"

Ning He felt a little embarrassed.

They had made a group chat when they parted ways, and she had indeed promised to post her stall’s location in it. It had only been a few days, but the thought had completely slipped her mind. Getting called out on it like this was rather awkward.

"That was my oversight. But the food I sell is pretty simple; I wasn’t sure it would be to your tastes."

The middle-aged man just chuckled. "Don’t be so modest, young lady. I could smell this fragrance from a mile away. Give me one of everything you’ve got. I need to fill my stomach before I get to work."

As he spoke, he carried his case over to a nearby seat and sat down.

Ning He thought for a moment, then prepared a bowl of her "all-in" malatang for him, without any staple foods, and added two sweet rice cakes.

The middle-aged man sniffed the aroma, raising an eyebrow. He took a sip of the broth and was stunned. Beyond his amazement, he seemed to pause, as if he’d just remembered something.

"Forgive me for being blunt, but did you learn to cook like this in Central City?"

"They have malatang in Central City?" Ning He asked, surprised.

The middle-aged man smiled. "Nothing by that name, no. But there’s a four-star restaurant there, and the fragrance, flavor, and even that unique numbing sensation—the ’ma’—of a few of its signature dishes are very similar to this one. I’m guessing you might be using a similar kind of spice."

’This man is quite worldly; he even figured that out.’

Lying to someone this perceptive would be a clumsy move. Ning He didn’t deny it.

"It does contain a secret spice blend I developed. But I’m more curious about what a four-star restaurant in Central City is like. Are the dishes outrageously expensive?" Ning He asked with keen interest.

Restaurants within the Alliance were on a star-rating system, with five stars being the highest. For now, no restaurant had managed to achieve that standard. The highest-rated were the four-star restaurants. Ning He had heard Connie say that at places like that, a single drinking glass could cost 1,000 original coins. Only the wealthiest of the wealthy could afford to eat there.

"It is very expensive. But people don’t go there for the food. As for the taste, in my opinion, this bowl of hodgepodge soup of yours is every bit as good as what they serve."

After saying this, the middle-aged man let out a laugh and dug in with his chopsticks, eating with great relish.

A few bites of savory and spicy malatang, followed by a bite of the sweet rice cake—crisp on the outside, soft on the inside, with a solid sweetness—the alternating flavors were simply irresistible.

He polished off every last bit of food on the table. Satisfied, the middle-aged man walked up to the stall and pulled a 100-original-coin note from his pocket.

"For food of this quality, your prices are far too conservative. Of course, this is probably all you can charge here. Don’t worry about the change; consider it a little personal support from me. Just don’t forget to post in the group chat next time you’re open for business."

"Okay, I definitely will next time," Ning He agreed readily.

The middle-aged man smiled at her, put on his hat, and left. After just a few steps, he turned back.

"By the way, my name is Lister. You can call me Doctor Lister."

Ning He paused for a second, then smiled. "It’s a pleasure to meet you, Doctor Lister. My surname is Ning. You can call me Chef Ning."

"Very well, Chef Ning. I hope we meet again soon."

Ning He watched the man leave, admiring the 100-original-coin note in her hand for a moment. Then, remembering something, she quickly pulled out her phone, opened the group chat for her foodie customers, and sent out a message with her stall’s location and hours.

She didn’t have high hopes, though.

These people were top-tier figures even in the First Ring. The thought of them coming all the way to the remote Fourth Ring for a bowl of meatless soup, especially in this terrible weather, seemed highly unlikely.

After sending the message, Ning He put her phone away and paid it no more mind. Just then, another wave of people surged toward her stall. They were all members of Leitel’s foodie group chat, and there were even more of them today—nearly fifty people, crowding around the small stall until it was completely packed.

The members who had gotten the first taste yesterday had praised the malatang to the high heavens in the group chat, making everyone else’s mouths water. Some had even taken a half-day off work to rush over and try it for themselves.

Mia and Natie were in the crowd. It had been a while since they’d eaten a meal that truly satisfied them. Business at their hair salon happened to be slow, so they left their staff in charge and hurried over.

Dozens of servings of malatang were served up one after another. At one point, Connie had to make an emergency run to a nearby vegetable stall just to restock. They ran out of the pre-made fried eggs and tofu puffs, so Ah Huai had to take over cooking the malatang while Ning He quickly fried more on the side.

After a flurry of activity, all the orders were finally served. The three of them wiped the sweat from their brows and breathed a collective sigh of relief.

Connie mentally calculated their earnings, her face lighting up with joy.

"With those orders done, we’ve already covered our costs for the day. Everything we sell from here on out is pure profit."

It had been the same yesterday. Even if that heavyset, middle-aged man had paid the exact price instead of giving extra, it would have just been enough to cover all the ingredient costs.

The residents of the Fourth Ring didn’t have much spending power, and as new vendors with no regulars, they had sold about four hundred original coins’ worth.

Earning four hundred original coins in a single day would have been almost unimaginable for Connie before. But now, working with Ning He, it seemed to be a regular occurrence.

’There was no limit, only new heights.’

Ning He smiled and glanced at the other food stalls nearby.

The members of the foodie group were very orderly. Despite there being over fifty of them, they remained relatively quiet and didn’t disturb the neighboring vendors. It was still a while before the end of the workday, so most of the other stalls were still getting set up. A few vendors glanced curiously at the commotion around Ning He’s stall, but most were busy with their own work.

The snacks sold at these stalls were very basic, with almost no seasoning. Ning He had bought and tried a few. The tastiest was from a third-level fried rice stall. They used chicken giblets for the meat, and the price was much lower than a typical third-level restaurant. A serving of chicken giblet and egg fried rice cost only fifteen original coins and was very popular.

Beyond that, even a simple flatbread sprinkled with scallions was considered a delicacy.

However, because of the cold, vendors selling hot congee, noodles, and vegetable soup were also doing good business.

Overall, in terms of flavor, her malatang was unrivaled. But because of its price, its sales volume didn’t completely blow everyone else away, so it didn’t attract too much unwanted attention.

After finishing their delicious meal, the group members learned that Ning He would be setting up her stall here for the entire cold snap. This made them abandon their initial impulse to "revenge spend" by ordering several portions to-go, and they left in high spirits.

That night, Mia and Natie made a post on the Luocheng City food forums. It was filled with photos of the malatang and long, descriptive paragraphs about its flavor. Their personal accounts had large followings, and the post immediately sparked a great deal of discussion.

Ning He had no idea she was about to be hit with an explosion in customer traffic. After selling out for the day, she lay in her sleeping bag and, on a whim, searched the name "Lister" online. As she expected, she found photos of the middle-aged man, along with a series of articles and headlines.

Ning He scanned the results. She hadn’t known what to expect, but what she saw was a shock.

"A Surgical Genius"

"Pioneer of Organ Transplantation"

"John Lister, Doctor or Murderer?"

"John Lister Resigns, Leaves Central City Hero Memorial Hospital"

"Independent Doctor John Lister: Robbing the Rich to Help the Poor?"

’Tsk, not just a capable man, but one with a story, huh.’

’So he used to be a doctor in Central City. No wonder he knew about the restaurants there.’

Ning He clicked open a few of the articles to scan them, but then she heard Connie’s voice from nearby, urging her to get some rest. She quickly turned off her phone and closed her eyes.