Chapter Eighty: Returning to Kunlun, Rekindling Old Ties

“Brother Chen, are you sure you didn’t miscalculate? We were busy today, but there’s no way we made so much. That’s two thousand eight hundred, almost three thousand—how could that be possible?” Daguang quickly recovered, shaking his head with certainty.

“Right, right, you must have added an extra zero by mistake.”

“There must be some error—let’s count it again to be safe.”

Heihu and Ermao chimed in anxiously, shaking their heads as they spoke. Their thoughts were aligned with Daguang’s, firmly convinced that Chen Huajiang had gotten it wrong.

Two thousand eight hundred—it's nothing in the future, just a month’s salary at most. But right now, it’s a fortune; in this era, a ten-thousand-yuan household walks with swagger. None of them believed that so much could be earned in a single day. A month, maybe, but a day—too outrageous.

Old Lin picked up his pipe from the ground, tapped it against the bench, shaking his head slightly. He too thought his son-in-law was unreliable, talking big.

“I checked twice. No way I miscalculated. Is two thousand eight hundred really that much?” Chen Huajiang swept his gaze over the group, their faces full of astonishment and disbelief, giving him a small thrill—a feeling only he understood.

“This isn’t just today’s income. We’ve drawn on future earnings. What we made today isn’t just today’s money, but the money from many days ahead.”

“The membership cards aren’t used just once. Tomorrow, the day after, a month from now—will customers throw away their cards? Won’t they come back and spend? Isn’t that money, too?”

Chen Huajiang clarified, giving them a lesson.

“Well—it does seem like that.”

“Our shop’s minimum recharge for the membership card is five yuan. Today, we had three to four hundred customers. Let’s take the lowest, three hundred. That’s fifteen hundred yuan right there.”

“Five yuan isn’t right. Most people who got cards today put in ten yuan, five yuan was less common, and twenty yuan was rare. So we should calculate based on ten yuan. Ten yuan per person, three hundred people—that’s three thousand yuan!”

Soon, everyone caught on—it was just a simple math problem. They realized that the income of two thousand eight hundred wasn’t a fabrication, but real.

“This… this is too profitable!”

Even Old Lin had figured it out, standing up in shock to look at his son-in-law.

“Dad, don’t get too excited. Like I said, we’re counting future income all at once. That’s the nature of membership cards—they hand over funds for multiple visits to our shop in one go.”

“That’s the reason I dared to take on this business. Otherwise, with the annual rent of three thousand six hundred for the Nantian Hotel’s restaurant, how could I risk it?”

“When I decided to rent this place, I had this idea in mind. In a way, only the restaurant at Nantian Hotel can support this kind of operation. Otherwise, who would get membership cards at an ordinary small shop? Who would recharge them? People wouldn't believe in it, nor would they dare.”

Chen Huajiang smiled gently, explaining to Old Lin.

This trick has been played out by businesses in the future—gyms, barbershops, all making a quick buck from membership cards before running off. They all make their storefronts look polished and rent prime locations to boost consumer confidence and appear strong.

If it’s a remote place, like a shop on the outskirts or in a suburban area, whether it’s a gym or a barbershop, it’s hard to make a profit.

That’s Chen Huajiang’s confidence—and the customers’ as well. Thanks to the Nantian Hotel and Nantian Electric, in this era of public ownership, the Nantian Restaurant at Kunlun is seen as representing both the hotel and the electric company.

That’s why Chen Huajiang didn’t drop the name Nantian Restaurant, but instead added the Kunlun Catering sign—it let him benefit from both sides. First, he leveraged the public’s trust in state-owned entities; after all, this wasn’t yet the era of mass layoffs, and the state means everything. Second, he introduced the Kunlun Catering brand for future preparations.

“So that’s how it is. Huajiang, your mind is truly clever,” Liang Long said admiringly, nodding at Chen Huajiang.

He felt lucky to have joined in, to have boarded Chen Huajiang’s ship. Originally, he thought it was just brotherly loyalty, helping him out, but it turned out Chen Huajiang was leading him to profit.

Though the membership cards represent future spending—today they made tomorrow’s money—Liang Long knew that with Chen Huajiang’s mind, if he could earn today, he’d certainly earn in the days to come.

“This strategy is brilliant. Impressive, really impressive. When it comes to making money, I have to admit, Heihu is convinced,” Heihu said, giving a thumbs-up, looking at Chen Huajiang with admiration.

Outwardly, he might have sounded a bit exaggerated, but inwardly, Heihu truly respected Chen Huajiang—the speed at which he made money was astonishing.

Ermao, Daguang, and Guo Lin also looked at Chen Huajiang with admiration, finally understanding why he was so confident, why he dared to take on the high rent of the Nantian Restaurant.

Because the Nantian Restaurant brand was worth it.

“Daguang, tomorrow you should go to the Bureau of Industry and Commerce and register Kunlun Catering Company.”

“Let’s set the registered capital at two thousand for now—we can add more later. Nantian Restaurant is ultimately someone else’s brand; Nantian Hotel might reclaim it. We must have our own brand.”

Chen Huajiang instructed Daguang, knowing that Kunlun Catering was the chain restaurant enterprise he founded in his previous life—the work of a lifetime.

Coming back in this life, there are plenty of good brands. He could even beat others to registering “China” as a brand if he wanted. The China Toothpaste brand, after all, was registered before advertising laws came into effect, and has been used ever since.

The China Catering brand might sound better than Kunlun Catering, but Chen Huajiang had a personal connection to Kunlun. He felt a grand ambition—last time, Kunlun Catering couldn’t even break into the top ten domestically; this time, he wanted to make it number one in China, in Asia, and even worldwide.

“Two thousand? That’s a lot. But whatever you say, Huajiang, we’ll do it,” Ermao said, feeling a pinch over the two thousand yuan for registration, but soon smiling. If they made two thousand eight in a day, surely they’d make money tomorrow, the day after, and in the future.

His confidence in Chen Huajiang was now so strong that even though he knew two thousand was substantial, it no longer bothered him.

The others nodded in agreement.

“Alright, I’ll handle it properly,” Daguang promised, patting his chest as he took the two thousand yuan Chen Huajiang handed him.

“Come, let’s all raise a toast to greater and greater success!” Chen Huajiang picked up a bottle of cola from the table and lifted it toward everyone.

“Cheers.”

“Let’s drink!”

“Bottoms up!”

The shop was filled with lively voices and excitement. Old Lin couldn’t help but sigh, tapping his pipe, suddenly feeling that his son Lin Guoshan had made a mistake.