Ch 165: Guide to Running a Shop in Another World

Little Chef played for five consecutive days. Before the second screening, Lu Yao aired a highlight reel of the first two episodes on the lobby’s advertisement screen. It showcased the iconic scene where diners are won over by the delicious Thousand Fragrance Wontons, followed by a hilarious montage of the clever, feisty interactions between the little chef and Prince Jing.

Returning viewers saw the two-minute highlight reel, instantly recalling the first screening’s memorable moments and making plans to buy tickets for tomorrow’s second screening. Meanwhile, those who hadn’t seen Little Chef yet finally discovered the origin of the famed Thousand Fragrance Wontons, piquing their interest with the charmingly unique dynamic between the chef and the prince, realizing this film might truly be worth a watch.

On the day of the second premiere, eager patrons lined up early, along with new visitors drawn by the teaser. With three films but only two screening halls, scheduling became tight, and they temporarily reduced the screening slots for The World’s Greatest.

With the premiere of Little Chef’s second episode came a new popcorn and soda commercial featuring Meng Qin, Ning Yun, and Qing as the leads, with snack shop staff and NPCs from the park as extras. Meng Qin and Ning Yun, dressed in period costumes, played a newly engaged couple. On the night of the Mid-Autumn Festival lantern show, the young man invited his fiancée to watch a movie, selecting a newly released horror film and buying a popcorn and soda combo at the ticket counter.

In the dimly lit theater, the movie played with just the two of them as the sole audience members. The monster on screen began chasing the characters as Meng Qin and Ning Yun sat expressionless, calmly munching on their popcorn.

Then, with a thunderous “boom,” sparks flew from the screen as it began to smoke. Suddenly, the terrifying creature chasing the characters burst out from the malfunctioning screen!

The audience in the cinema was horrified. Having expected another lighthearted, funny commercial like the last one, they were now questioning if the small figures on their own theater screens might come crawling out too. It was terrifying!

Onscreen, Meng Qin grabbed Ning Yun’s hand as they ran, clutching their popcorn and soda with the other, unwilling to drop it even in the face of danger, only to find themselves cornered by the monster. The hideous creature’s inhuman screech echoed, and a single droplet of saliva sizzled onto the floor, melting a fist-sized hole.

Seeing Meng Qin and Ning Yun hugging each other in fear, some audience members couldn’t bear to look and covered their eyes, but curiosity got the better of them, and they peeked cautiously through their fingers.

The next second, the monster’s sharp claw extended, its heavy breathing audible as it smoothly swiped the popcorn and soda from their hands. It tilted its head back, gulping down the soda, then grabbed a handful of popcorn and stuffed it into its massive mouth. The scene ended with the monster clutching the half-empty popcorn bucket contentedly, sound effects of satisfied footsteps echoing as it sauntered offscreen.

Meng Qin and Ning Yun, left bewildered in the corner, matched the equally baffled expressions of the audience.

“…??”

Wait, that was it?

After a brief pause, the screen displayed a close-up of the popcorn and soda combo. The monster poked its head back into view, flashing its jagged-toothed grin and giving a hearty burp of satisfaction.

In the back row, Le Han and Rong Shenghua, who had been tense throughout the ad, slowly exhaled, feeling speechless at this twist.

The monster crawling out had been genuinely terrifying. Now, thinking it over, they almost wanted to laugh.

A moment ago, someone in the front row had leaped out of their seat in fright, and a few even let out involuntary screams, only for the ad to reveal that the entire purpose was simply to say, “Popcorn and soda are delicious! Come and buy some!”

Today, Wan Baozhu and Hongyu came again, still dressed as men. Sitting too far from the screen, Hongyu couldn’t clearly see what was happening, so her expression remained mostly neutral. However, Wan Baozhu, understanding the ad’s humor, covered her mouth with her fan, her lips unable to suppress a smile.

In the ticket hall, Fu Chi stood in the lounge, watching the ad to its end before he turned to Lu Yao. “Who came up with this ad?”

Lu Yao, who was sifting through a selection of new films, looked up. “The popcorn and soda one? I brainstormed it with the snack shop crew. Why?”

Fu Chi adjusted his glasses and said in a low voice, “The concept is old but way ahead of its time for people here. Especially that scene where the monster crawls out of the screen.”

Objectively, the ad used two twists rather well. In the first part, before the monster emerged, the couple was in a relaxed atmosphere, and they made a point of showing the popcorn purchase, emphasizing the product. Then, with the sudden appearance of the monster, there was an instant jolt, gripping the audience’s attention. The end sequence, where the monster reaches out only to take the popcorn and soda, was timed just right, going from relaxed to tense, then back to lighthearted. The final close-up reinforced the idea that the popcorn and soda were so delicious even the monster couldn’t resist them.

The monster’s effects were exceptionally realistic. Fu Chi had seen all sorts of props and effects, but he still found this creature remarkably lifelike. In a time as traditional as this, where people hadn’t experienced the kind of media saturation he had, he worried it might be a bit much—people might actually believe the monster was real.

Lu Yao listened to his analysis, her eyes crinkling with amusement as she struggled to keep from laughing, careful not to reveal that the monster actually was real and played by Qing, one of the park’s guards.

“What’s funny?” Fu Chi asked, puzzled.

Lu Yao shook her head repeatedly. “Nothing, just impressed by the director’s detailed analysis.”

Fu Chi frowned. “Aren’t you at all concerned that people here might genuinely believe the monster could crawl out of the screen?”

Lu Yao smiled. “It’s a normal misunderstanding. If it happens, we’ll just clarify it. Running a cinema in this era will naturally lead to all sorts of misconceptions. But I won’t let fear stop me.”

Her plans went beyond just a few historical films tailored to the era; she aimed to inspire a “long-sighted” curiosity. Occasionally, she would browse the bookstore next door, picking up a few casual reads. She didn’t think the people of this era were inherently ignorant; they had their own theories about the sky, agriculture, and even sea voyages, but they were restricted by the limitations of their time, with slow development in both theory and practice.

Fu Chi, unable to fully grasp her perspective, felt the store owner was perhaps too reckless in an era like this. Lu Yao, seeing he was unconvinced, changed the subject. “The post-production of the latest film is almost complete. I plan to release a trailer in three days and the full premiere in five.”

It would coincide with the third screening of Little Chef, meaning the two new films would likely compete for audience attention. But with just two screening rooms, this was unavoidable. Hopefully, after completing the current task, they’d gain more breathing room.

Fu Chi recalled the film Lu Yao had bought from his company and realized she must have had this planned for some time. The film, titled When Spring Flowers Fall, was also a period comedy, yet completely distinct from Little Chef. The plot featured a twist where the main characters—by a twist of fate—swap bodies, binding them together and leading to a series of uproarious mishaps.

Reflecting on it, Fu Chi felt that the store owner was practically playing with fire. There was a chance that with the third film’s release, she could end up being the one thrown on a pyre.

Lu Yao waved her hand in front of his face. “What are you thinking about? You look so serious.”

Fu Chi snapped back. “Nothing. Did you make many changes to that film?”

She shook her head. “It’s from a few years back, but it holds up well. Just minor adjustments, mainly subtitles and voiceovers.”

…

Inside the screening room, Little Chef was reaching a climactic scene.

The young chef was falsely accused of serving tainted food, leading to someone allegedly falling ill after eating her wontons. The deceivers even brought the “sick” person to her restaurant to stir up trouble, drawing a crowd, and her explanations were in vain. At the critical moment, the hot-tempered Prince Jing appeared, exposing the ruse, uncovering the scoundrels’ scheme, and restoring the chef’s reputation.

This incident slightly shifted the chef’s impression of the prince, and, as a gesture of gratitude, she offered to treat him to a meal.

Thus began a new side to the “fiery” prince: his tsundere nature. Though he pretended not to care, he secretly anticipated the meal, to the point of spending a sleepless night practicing martial arts in the courtyard.

At dawn, the chef closed her shop for half a day, bought a fresh duck, and prepared a fragrant roast duck with thinly sliced scallions, cucumber, and steamed pancakes for wrapping.

The prince, impatiently waiting until noon, shrugged off his two companions and made his way alone to her small restaurant. Yet, upon seeing only a plate of duck on the table, he sulked.

The chef wrapped a piece of duck, adding scallions, cucumber, and sauce, and placed it in front of him. “Try it—you’ll love it.”

The prince stole glances as she assembled the wrap. His mood lightened considerably, though he maintained a stoic expression as he bit into it. After the first bite, he paused, took another, eyes wide with surprise.

Realizing his slip, he quickly masked it and grumbled, “Give me another.”

Suppressing a laugh, the chef swiftly made another wrap.

The entire meal was conducted in an odd, yet endearing atmosphere that the audience couldn’t help but find amusing.

Today, Zhu Zhu was on ticket duty again. With Lu Yao’s permission, she stayed in the aisle to watch the second part of Little Chef once the film started. Her eyes sparkled, hands clenched in delight—she was utterly charmed by the dynamic between the chef and the prince. Her young heart, previously wounded by the tragic love of Ye Qingzhou and Junior Sister Ning Shuang, seemed to be healing.

As the second screening ended, Wan Baozhu exited the theater, fanning herself. “Jin Wang’s son should really see this.”

The reason was simple: Jin Wang’s son was notorious for his arrogance and temper, much like the prince in the film. The noble young ladies of Liangjing scattered at his approach, and as a result, the young prince was seventeen and still unmarried.

The second day after Little Chef premiered, the film sparked lively discussions, and its popularity exploded. Restaurants on Song’an Street began replicating the roast duck featured in the film due to the overwhelming demand. The charming rivalry between the young chef and the prince became a favorite topic among Liangjing’s residents.

Accompanying the popularity of Little Chef, however, was a growing rumor about the “monster popcorn ad,” claiming that monsters might leap out from the theater screen.

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