Chapter Fifteen: Joining the Black Tiger

Chen Huajiang placed all the freshly grilled lamb skewers onto the plate on Black Tiger's table.

Ermao gazed longingly at the glistening, juicy skewers, swallowing hard.

"Brother Tiger, have a taste. Tell me how my seasoning is," Chen Huajiang said, handing over a skewer.

Black Tiger took it, inspected it briefly, and bit right in. To his surprise, that seemingly ordinary skewer instantly won over his appetite.

"You all have some too. Try them and give me some feedback," Chen Huajiang offered.

At his words, Ermao tucked in without hesitation, chewing with gusto. The flavor was truly outstanding—far superior to the stir-fried mutton they'd had before.

Black Tiger thoroughly enjoyed himself as well, especially washing down a few bites with some beer. It was a pleasure beyond words.

"Brother Tiger, look at our business here. If we give you a ten percent share, it’ll be a tidy sum by year’s end," Liang Long said in a low voice, wary of being overheard by the nearby customers.

Black Tiger nodded. With the method Chen Huajiang and his partners had developed, it was likely they’d make a fortune in the future. Most importantly, they were the only barbecue vendor in town—surely word would spread and people would come from far and wide.

"My only concern," Black Tiger said, "is people copying you. Anyone can weld a grill and slice up lamb. Even if they waste a couple of pounds, eventually they'll figure out how to roast it."

Though Black Tiger owned a dance hall, he understood this principle well; plenty had tried to copy his business, but the threat of retribution kept them at bay. Opening a small street stall, however, was another matter—he couldn’t possibly manage every pop-up vendor. He couldn’t just chase them all away, could he?

"Don’t worry, Brother Tiger," Liang Long replied. "Huajiang has his own secret recipe. The meat’s marinated, and without his blend, others can’t replicate this flavor."

With Liang Long’s explanation, Black Tiger nodded in understanding.

"Whatever you do—be it braised pork or these lamb skewers—you must hold onto your core technique. By the way, when are those Baldy’s men supposed to show up?"

From Black Tiger’s tone, it seemed the deal was as good as settled.

"They said after nine, but I’m not sure if they’ll show," Liang Long replied.

"Leave it to me," Black Tiger said. "A petty thug like Baldy dares to cause trouble on my turf? I want to see what he’s really made of."

With that, Black Tiger put on a stern face and resumed eating the skewers. They were simply too delicious—in any case, he knew where to get them from now on.

Liang Long nodded and went back to helping Chen Huajiang grill more meat. Ever since the snack shop closed, Liang Long had become more attentive—dropping by often to lend a hand, gambling far less than before.

"Huajiang, I think Brother Tiger’s agreed. I doubt Baldy will dare make a scene tonight," Liang Long muttered quietly.

"We need someone like him watching our backs, or we won’t be able to do business," Chen Huajiang replied. He knew all too well that, in those days, you needed connections. Without them, others would make trouble, and you’d get nowhere.

Around 9:30 that evening, Baldy arrived with twenty or thirty men in tow. He walked up to Chen Huajiang’s stall and shouted, "Anyone not involved, leave now! If you get hurt, it’s not my problem!"

Baldy was swaggering and loud, and many customers, finding themselves ordinary folks unable to take on someone like him, got up to leave.

"Sit down and eat," Black Tiger declared. "I’d like to see who dares cause trouble here."

He stood up as he spoke. At the sight of Black Tiger, Baldy’s heart skipped a beat; there was only one person in this area he truly feared.

"Well, if it isn’t Baldy. I heard you ate here last night and didn’t pay. Is that true?" Black Tiger said as he and Ermao approached.

"Brother Tiger, what’s the point of talking? Let’s just deal with this punk. He eats and doesn’t pay, and acts like he’s in the right," Ermao blurted out. Hot-headed by nature, Ermao was known to have martial arts in his family for generations—and in these parts, few could take him on.

"Brother Tiger, I didn’t know this stall was under your protection. If I’d known, would I have caused trouble? But we don’t have any cash on us tonight—you know I’m not exactly flush," Baldy replied awkwardly, rubbing his round head.

"If you’ve got no money, then work it off. There’s plenty of lamb to be skewered—have your men do it," Black Tiger said coolly.

At this, Chen Huajiang stepped forward. Last night’s meal couldn’t go unpaid, and two people skewering lamb was slow work. Since Baldy had brought a crowd, they’d get the job done quickly.

"This is my brother. From now on, call him Brother Jiang when you see him. Since he’s asked for your help, you’ll work tonight to pay for your food," Black Tiger ordered.

Hearing this, Baldy dared not protest. "Got it, Brother Tiger," he replied, leading his men to the kitchen under Chen Huajiang’s supervision.

Free labor was not to be wasted; besides, Baldy’s crew had little else to do most days. That night, Baldy and his men skewered enough lamb to last three days.

With the work done, Black Tiger and Ermao took their leave. Chen Huajiang smiled, well satisfied.

"I won’t have you working for nothing—have a bite to eat," Chen Huajiang offered. He was not an unreasonable man; since they’d done their part, a simple meal was only fair.

Baldy and his men nodded eagerly, like bobbleheads.

"Baldy, don’t just drink. Business is booming, and we’re short-staffed. Find us a few workers. I’ll put in a word with Brother Tiger—whatever you need done in the future will go smoothly," Liang Long said, raising his eyebrows at Baldy.

"You’ll provide meals? If so, I have plenty of people. How many do you need?"

"Of course we’ll feed them! No one goes hungry here. Two’s enough—twenty yuan a month. Just cleaning up, greeting customers, and helping with the skewers. Nothing else," Liang Long replied.