Live Streaming Food Stall… But in Dog-Blooded Novels – CH126

Chapter 126

Rewinding time slightly.

“You’re really set on working in the Black Market?” No. 3 stared at Jian Yunlan in disbelief inside the residential apartment, trying to persuade him earnestly. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you—the Black Market is a lawless place where the strong prey on the weak. There are even gangs forming there… It’s not that the base doesn’t want to manage it, but the situation is just too messy to control.”

“Sure, there are opportunities there, and there have even been legends of people making thousands of credits overnight, but that’s pure luck. It has nothing to do with ordinary people like you.”

“Someone new like you will easily get bullied. You’d be better off finding a simple job in the logistics department—at least it’s safe and stable.”

But Jian Yunlan was adamant. He shook his head. “I’ve made up my mind. I’m going to the Black Market.”

Hearing the words “easily get bullied,” Taotie frowned. “I’ll go with you.”

He knew Jian Yunlan was a stall-running fanatic and wouldn’t change his mind, but he still couldn’t help worrying.

No. 3: “Uh, No. 11325, if you want to be a mercenary, you have to come with me to the mercenary camp now to register, get supplies, and train… But No. 11324, your partner has a point. With your physique—”

Jian Yunlan, lost in thought, casually reached out and bent the sturdy steel bed frame with a single hand.

…Holy shit, what kind of person is this?!

No. 3’s eyes widened, swallowing back his words of caution. Just a moment ago, he’d been worried Jian Yunlan would get bullied by the troublemakers in the Black Market. Now, it seemed like Jian Yunlan would be the one bullying others.

No. 3 picked up a pen and scribbled a letter of introduction for Jian Yunlan.

“…”

Then, dragging Taotie—who kept looking back—he headed to the mercenary camp.

After they left, Jian Yunlan immediately began preparing for his stall.

This time, the Culinary God System’s mission was porridge.

And Jian Yunlan had been wanting to sell porridge for a while!

The moment he thought of porridge, countless flavors came to mind—sweet, savory. The most classic had to be century egg and lean pork porridge, but in the coming days, he also wanted to try boat congee, seafood porridge… assuming he could get his hands on the right ingredients or suitable substitutes.

Jian Yunlan had been worried about where to source ingredients in this post-apocalyptic world, but the Culinary God System was unexpectedly generous this time. Not only did it provide a clay pot and an insulated porridge container, it even gifted him fifty lead-free century eggs and portions of pork shank.

But Jian Yunlan still had one concern:

“Won’t it seem suspicious if I, a refugee who just joined the base, suddenly have these ingredients?”

The Culinary God System in his mind immediately replied:

[Host need not worry. Lead-free century eggs and pork shank are mid-tier circulating ingredients available in the well-supplied Eastern Base Black Market. The system has prepaid for them using the credits you will earn in the future.]

[As long as the host sells 500 servings within three days at an average price of 3 credits each, the expected revenue is 1,500 credits. After deducting ingredient costs, the net profit will be 1,000 credits.]

It seemed the Culinary God System had thought things through.

With his worries eased, Jian Yunlan was ready to go all out.

As for green onions, ginger, garlic, and rice—those were readily available in Niu Tou’s portable spirit field. After tending to the crops for so long, Niu Tou was finally able to contribute. The moment Jian Yunlan entered the field, Niu Tou cheerfully handed over the prepared ingredients.

In addition to rice, green onions, ginger, and garlic, Niu Tou also brought over a bottle of homemade sesame oil.

“I thought you might need it, and we happened to have a lot of sesame seeds, so I pressed some,” Niu Tou said shyly. “If you need anything else, just let me know.”

“Thank you, this is a huge help!” Jian Yunlan was overjoyed.

The sesame oil couldn’t have come at a better time.

Before preparing the ingredients, Jian Yunlan soaked the rice in cold water—this would make the porridge softer and stickier when cooked.

After draining the soaked rice, he added a bit of sesame oil and crushed the century eggs directly into it. This would give the porridge an especially rich and fragrant flavor.

As for the pork shank, Jian Yunlan sliced it thinly along the grain and marinated it with ginger, scallion whites, and seasonings to remove any gaminess. The secret was to add a generous amount of oil at the end of the marinating process—this would ensure the meat stayed tender and flavorful when cooked.

…Many people think of porridge as a healthy, light dish.

But to make truly delicious porridge, you can’t skimp on the oil.

The clay pot provided by the Culinary God System wasn’t an ordinary one either—it was a classic earthenware pot with smooth, even glaze and fine texture. Completely different from the worn-out pot Jian Yunlan had used in his past life, this one would make the porridge especially fragrant.

Back then, he couldn’t afford expensive cookware, so he stubbornly used the same uneven, battered clay pot for seven years until it finally cracked while he was making soup one day.

The soaked rice only needed to be boiled in hot water.

The porridge would be piping hot, and the thinly sliced pork would cook instantly once added. Jian Yunlan started simmering the porridge in the clay pot, and just before leaving, he placed the raw marinated pork directly into the insulated bucket to let it steep in the residual heat.

The insulated bucket from the system was also top-quality, with excellent sealing—once the lid was on, not a whiff of aroma could escape, locking in both the heat and the umami of the porridge.

And so, at 9 PM, Jian Yunlan set out with a massive insulated bucket in hand.

*

Now, back to the present.

Inside the Black Market.

Hearing Jian Yunlan say, “I’m a fellow vendor,” the man named Xiangxiang’s expression soured.

His eyesight wasn’t great, and earlier, he’d only noticed Jian Yunlan’s tall, slender figure and clean, handsome profile, mistaking him for a new customer. Now, upon closer inspection, he saw the large bucket in the man’s hand.

So he was just another struggling vendor.

“You should’ve said so earlier. Wasted my damn time,” Xiangxiang grumbled, lighting a cheap cigarette and pointing lazily in a direction. “Over there. Just keep walking straight.”

Jian Yunlan thanked him.

He hadn’t taken more than two steps when Xiangxiang suddenly called out from behind.

“Hey! You!” Xiangxiang exhaled a smoke ring, his tone bored.

He looked Jian Yunlan up and down. The young man was pretty and sharp-looking, but who would’ve thought he’d be so foolish?

—To naively think he could sell food in the dining district. Only a newbie would be this reckless.

Everyone in the Eastern Base knew that the entire dining district of the Black Market was tightly controlled by Li Zhou and his gang. New vendors had to pay protection fees if they wanted a decent spot—otherwise, they’d be shoved into the most remote corners.

Ingredients in the base were limited, so everyone’s food tasted more or less the same—nothing particularly delicious. Customers would head straight to the established stalls up front. Setting up in a hidden corner meant you’d never get noticed, not in a million years.

Even if vendors scraped together the money to pay the protection fees, the meager profits from selling food would be whittled down layer by layer until less than a fifth ended up in their hands. Working themselves to the bone for a month might not even earn them what a mercenary made in a single day.

“Listen, kid, take my advice—selling food in this Black Market is a dead end. You’d better find another way to make a living while you still can.” Xiangxiang glanced at the bucket. “By the way, what’s in there?”

Jian Yunlan smiled. “Porridge.”

“Porridge, huh…” Xiangxiang curled his lip, his gaze growing even more pitying.

In the dining district, nine out of ten stalls sold porridge or soup.

Those were easy to make in bulk—just mix rice with water or boil some potatoes with a few scraps of meat. Paired with dry bread, it filled the stomach, but it was far from tasty.

If this young man was selling something novel, like grilled meat (assuming he could get his hands on large cuts), he might’ve stood a chance at attracting customers.

But no—he had to sell porridge.

Xiangxiang eyed the massive bucket. Even this close, he couldn’t catch a single whiff of aroma.

Even the most amateurish vendors knew to load their porridge with seasonings—whether it tasted good or not, at least it should smell enticing. That was the bare minimum to get any business.

Xiangxiang was certain this young man wouldn’t sell a single bowl of porridge in the Black Market. He wouldn’t even make enough to cover the stall fee and would soon be kicked out in disgrace.

But you can’t save someone hell-bent on their own ruin.

“If you’re dead set on setting up a stall, take my advice and just pay them the damn protection money,” Xiangxiang said as a final warning. “…Oh, and you’re not bad-looking. If you hit rock bottom, you can always join me. I’ll hook you up with clients.”

“…Thanks for the offer,” Jian Yunlan replied dryly.

After bidding farewell to Xiangxiang, Jian Yunlan carried his porridge bucket and walked for about five minutes before finally arriving at the dining district.

—Pulling aside the curtain and stepping inside, a wave of heat hit him, accompanied by the strong smell of cheap alcohol.

Most mercenaries hadn’t returned to the base yet, but a few on leave were already drinking here. There were two or three tables in sight, each occupied by burly mercenaries with weapons at their waists, their faces flushed from drinking as they chatted loudly:

“Damn it, another high-risk mission tomorrow. Those pollutants just keep coming… this godforsaken job where we risk our necks every day…”

“Why worry about that? Live while you can. Old Li, another jug of wine!”

“Bottoms up!”

A middle-aged man in an apron smiled obsequiously as he brought them another jug.

Jian Yunlan glanced over—

On their tables, aside from scattered wine bottles, there were also a few bowls.

One bowl contained thin porridge with a few bean sprouts and chunks of meat floating on top. Another held a potato stew, alongside large pieces of dry bread and flatbreads.

The dining district was filled with vendors, and just as Xiangxiang had said, nine out of ten were selling porridge. Each vendor had a massive bucket in front of them, shouting:

“Porridge! Fresh and tasty bean sprout porridge, with meat!”

“Piping hot radish soup, just made!”

“Flatbreads! Homemade flatbreads, ten credits each—delicious!”

At a glance, the busiest stall was the one selling flatbreads, likely because they were more novel and eye-catching. Three or four mercenaries stood in line, chatting as they waited.

Jian Yunlan noticed an empty spot next to the flatbread stall and made his way over with his porridge bucket.

However, he had barely taken a step before someone blocked his path.

“New here?”

A man with upturned eyes and a sharp, weasel-like face stopped him, looking him up and down with a sneer.

“Pay the protection fee.”