Mr. Wen snapped his knife into the chopping board, the business yesterday was good, and that family's business was worse than theirs. He was thinking, once they could no longer keep up, he would take over that shop. Such a small shop couldn't possibly ask for much rent, at most 30 yuan. Their family alone made nearly 200 yuan just yesterday. That damn Hua family is despicable, the absolute worst capitalists. They make thousands a month, yet only pay fifty yuan to their son Wendi; they don't need that trivial fifty yuan. Their Wendi has skills now and can make delicious pancakes himself. Do they even need them?
Unexpectedly, the next day, the Hua family opened their doors, but they weren't selling scallion pancakes, but something else, and his heart swelled with more pride, thinking the Huas got scared and didn't dare sell the same item as them.
