At this moment, in a car behind, the driver turned his head to look at the man sitting in the backseat with a furrowed brow and gently called out to him.
The man slightly raised his head. "Hmm?"
"Director Chen, are you okay?"
"I'm fine, just the old problem," Director Chen said in a low voice, but his tone carried authority.
The driver thought for a moment, then said, "I see someone cooking noodles ahead. Would you like me to buy a bowl for you?"
Director Chen's stomach always became uncomfortable if he didn't eat on time. Yesterday, they had filmed late into the night, and today they had to hurry back to their hometown. Unfortunately, from the film studio to here, there wasn't a single place selling breakfast.
"Forget it, isn't it just instant noodles? I don't like that stuff." Director Chen had endured a lot of instant noodles during filming, and now he couldn't stand them at all—he'd rather not eat them if he could help it.
"Maybe they have something else, I'll go ask. You can't keep suffering like this," the driver said as he got out of the car.
Director Chen wanted to stop him, but the driver had already run off.
White Ye had just warmed up inside the car when the window was knocked again.
White Ye's heart skipped a beat, and he quickly rolled down the window. "Noodles?"
The person outside shook his head. "Can I come up and talk to you?"
White Ye wasn't sure what the person meant but still nodded.
The person walked around and got into the passenger seat, exhaling onto his hands. "It's really cold!"
White Ye replied a couple of words, and the person finally got to the point. "Brother, I saw you cooking noodles just now."
"Oh, that?" White Ye thought, should've mentioned it earlier. "Sure, how many bowls do you want?"
"No, no, you misunderstood. I was wondering if you have anything other than noodles? To be honest, my boss doesn't like instant noodles."
"Uh… what would you like?"
"Do you have rice and stir-fried vegetables?"
White Ye hesitated.
Although the car had a lot of ingredients—chicken, duck, fish, meat, and various vegetables—cooking here was quite challenging.
Especially the rice. He did have a rice cooker, and there was a spare battery on the car to keep food warm.
But it would take a long time.
After thinking for a bit, White Ye came up with a plan.
A regular rice cooker wouldn't work, but a pressure cooker should do the job. And since it uses gas, it would be faster. By the time the rice is done, he could start on the stir-fry. When the pressure valve had released enough steam, the dishes should be ready.
"Alright, but how many servings do you need? If it's too few…" White Ye asked.
If the person only wanted one serving, it would be difficult for him to complete his task if someone else came for noodles in the meantime.
"How many servings would you be willing to sell?"
White Ye blurted out, "Six servings!"
With six more, his task would be complete, and he'd keep his small profit.
"Six servings..." The person nodded. "How much is it per serving?"
"What kind of dishes do you want? I've got plenty of vegetables in the car, just tell me what you need, and I'll see if I can make it."
"Stir-fried pork with sweet soy sauce, Three Fresh from the Earth, and stir-fried tofu with hot chili peppers. Is that okay?"
White Ye was calculating the costs. These dishes weren't expensive—eggplant, potatoes, and dried tofu were common vegetables in their northeastern winter cuisine.
The dried tofu cost him six yuan per kilogram, potatoes were 70 cents, and eggplant was more expensive in the cold weather, costing about 2.80 yuan per kilogram wholesale.
But overall, the cost wasn't too high—only the meat was more expensive. Based on the prices they charged for lunch boxes in their store, each serving would cost about 6 to 7 yuan.
The biggest cost now was labor. The weather was freezing, and his hands almost went numb just cooking one bowl of noodles—let alone preparing three dishes.
"How about thirty-one yuan per serving?" The person couldn't wait for White Ye to finish calculating, and handed over 100 yuan as a deposit.
"Alright!" Thirty was already a decent price. White Ye pushed open the car door. "I'll go get started."
With a customer, the task was almost complete, and White Ye no longer felt the cold.
He pulled out the pressure cooker and started steaming rice for ten people's worth.
Once the pressure cooker was up to steam, White Ye began preparing the vegetables.
At this moment, he realized how useful the one-click cleaning function was. Without hot water, washing the vegetables and meat would feel like putting his hands into ice water.
He selected the ingredients he needed, opened the box, and began preparing—cutting what needed to be cut and slicing what needed to be sliced.
The driver returned and told Director Chen about the situation. Director Chen nodded. "I hope he moves quickly, or this road might clear up soon."
"Do you think we'll finish those six servings?" Director Chen asked. "You're better off ordering three small stir-fries."
"I'm worried he'll charge us an arm and a leg for three small stir-fries. They might cost us several hundred."
Director Chen laughed lightly. "In this place, no one dares to scam me. Whatever he charges, I'll make him pay double."
While they were talking, some people who had been considering the meal saw that White Ye had another customer and couldn't resist rubbing their stomachs.
They had thought 20 yuan for a bowl of noodles was too expensive, but now, thinking about it—he was cooking by the roadside in the freezing cold—if it were them, maybe even 20 yuan would feel like a bargain.
They couldn't hold back any longer, and went over to ask White Ye about the food.
White Ye was fair to everyone. "Stir-fried tofu with hot chili peppers, Three Fresh from the Earth, and stir-fried pork with sweet soy sauce—30 yuan per serving."
Actually, he thought 30 yuan wasn't cheap, but since the first customer had agreed on that price, he couldn't charge less for others.
"Alright, I'll take a serving! Should I pay now?"
The person nodded in agreement. They thought that 30 yuan for rice and stir-fried vegetables was definitely worth it compared to 20 yuan for instant noodles.
"No need to pay now. When the food is ready, you can come over."
The large pressure cooker could easily steam rice for ten people. After about twenty minutes, White Ye moved the cooker off the heat, and then it was time for him to show off his skills.
The dishes the customers ordered—stir-fried tofu with hot chili peppers, Three Fresh from the Earth, and stir-fried pork with sweet soy sauce—were all common dishes in their hometown, and White Ye had made them countless times. He could cook them with his eyes closed.
He took out the pre-prepared ingredients from the foam box and began to fry them.
Aside from the stir-fried pork, which needed to be deep-fried to set, both the potatoes and eggplant also had to be fried.
Frying the ingredients not only enhanced their flavor but also sped up the cooking process.
The pork had already been marinated and coated in a starch batter before being dropped into the hot oil. It only took a moment before it floated back up.
The price of the 30-yuan lunch was not cheap, but White Ye wasn't cutting corners. He prepared a generous amount of meat.
Once the pork was fried, he raised the oil temperature and fried it again. A large bowl of golden, evenly sized meat was ready, making anyone's mouth water.
The eggplant and potatoes were also fried just enough to give them a slight crisp without becoming too soft.
It was already noon, and the bright sunlight warmed White Ye as it shone through the car, driving away some of the cold.
But the warmth didn't just affect White Ye; the fried pork also caught the attention of the nearby drivers, making them stare hungrily.
One by one, their eyes followed the pot, their stomachs growling as they watched White Ye's cooking.
4o