A Stay-at-home Dad’s Restaurant In An Alternate World

Yangzhou fried rice was good, and so was roujiamo, but eating them every day was kind of boring.

He knew he would get access to the tofu pudding after this new mission, but he still wanted to trick the system into unlocking one or two other dishes.

“Since you didn’t take your last mission seriously and used a shortcut, you have triggered a hidden mission: get 1,000 customers to eat in the restaurant, and then you can unlock the recipe for the braised chicken and rice. You have 15 more days. Each individual will be counted as one customer. If you fail the mission, your strength will be decreased by 0.5. You have got 155 customers by now,” the system said after a while.

That means I have to get 845 different customers eating here in 15 days? Mag raised an eyebrow. It was much more difficult than selling 1,000 roujiamos. After all, some customers could eat several roujiamos each time, and there were regulars; one man might buy a dozen in a few days.

However, getting 1,000 different customers was another matter entirely. If he could do that, his restaurant would definitely be filled with customers.

Unfortunately, he had only attracted 155 customers since his business had started. If he failed this hidden mission, his strength would be decreased; that was a real problem for him.

He wasn’t worrying about business now, but about regular customers. New customers might not be able to get the food because of regulars, and that would end up with a slowdown in the new customers’ growth in number.

Eat in the restaurant are the key words. It would seem I have to control the take-out quantity. I have to get some publicity and at the same time try to meet the needs of customers, Mag thought, and his eyes lit up when he thought about the braised chicken and rice.

Braised Chicken and Rice, Lanzhou Beef Noodles, and Shaxian Delicacies were perhaps China’s three largest restaurant chains.

In his previous life, Mag had tried some authentic braised chicken and rice in several restaurants. Although, as always, he had engaged in vicious criticism, the taste had been truly excellent. The chicken had been very fresh and tender; the broth had been very tasty. After he finished eating the chicken, he had added a bowl of rice into the pot and made some delicious chicken-flavored rice.

Now that he thought about it, he found that he had been indeed too picky. His face became sour when he remembered his vicious comments. Damn it. Even if I finish the mission and get the recipe, I have to be prepared, because I may have to spend hundreds of days in the test field.

Everything gets a return.

Mag complained the God who had devised such a cooking standard in his mind and then fell asleep quickly.

The next morning, he was awakened by Amy’s voice. He turned on the bedside lamp, sat up, and looked towards Amy’s small bed. Amy was sitting on her bed, seeming to have just awakened too. She rubbed her sleepy eyes and looked around. “Father, where is Ugly Duckling?” she asked as she looked at Mag, confused.

Mag was surprised. Didn’t it fall asleep on Amy’s arm?

“Meow!” The sound was a little unhappy, and came from under the bed.

Amy and Mag looked under the bed at the same time. They didn’t know when it’d got there. It was looking up at Amy sadly like a young wife that had been kicked out of bed. Its eyes looked awfully sad.

Amy laughed. “Ugly Duckling, did I kick you out of bed?” she asked merrily as she lay on her stomach on the edge of the bed.

Ugly Duckling nodded as if it had understood her words. Now it looked even more aggrieved. It lifted its little paw, seeming to ask for hugs.

Mag smiled too and felt a little sorry for it.

Amy gave a shrug. “I told you that you might be kicked out and you didn’t believe me. You’d better sleep in your little basket next time.” Then she looked at Mag, and asked, “Father, do we need to get up now?” She yawned.

Mag took a look at the clock—it was only 4:50. He got out of his bed, picked up the palm-sized, soft Ugly Duckling, and put it onto the little bed. “It’s too early,” he said with a smile, shaking his head. “You two go back to sleep. I’ll prepare the ingredients.”

Amy nodded. “Then I’ll sleep some more.” She held Ugly Duckling’s head as it was trying to climb into her arms. “Ugly Duckling, don’t claw at my clothes. They were newly bought by Father. If you ruin them, I won’t allow you to come onto the bed again.”

Ugly Duckling stopped moving immediately and nodded. “Meow…” Then it closed its eyes on the comfort of the quilt.

Amy nodded, satisfied. “Good.” She lay back on the bed, closed her eyes, and fell asleep again.

Smiling, Mag tucked her in and covered the little kitten with the quilt better. Body temperature was very important to it.

Mag changed into his clothes, washed up, and went downstairs to prepare ingredients for roujiamo. This morning, he planned to make four batches of bread—64 roujiamos. He should be able to sell them out in one and a half hours of the breakfast time.

At 7 am, Mag went upstairs and woke Amy up. When she washed up, she insisted on brushing Ugly Duckling’s teeth.

Mag chuckled and explained for a long time to talk her out of it. At last, she threatened it into rinsing its mouth for a few times.

Amy nodded as she was brushing her teeth. “Okay. We’ll brush your teeth when they grow bigger,” she said as she watched Ugly Duckling lick its lips and swallow.

Ugly Duckling stared at the little brush and foam in Amy’s mouth and slowly stepped back towards the door—it was a little scared.

The sheep milk Mag had bought yesterday was already finished. He didn’t have time to buy any until the breakfast time was over.

During breakfast, lying in Amy’s arms, Ugly Duckling watched as Mag and Amy ate roujiamo and Yangzhou fried rice, its eyes glittering. As no one wanted to feed it, it sadly covered its eyes with its paw, trying to block the torturous sight.

Amy took a bite of her roujiamo. “Ugly Duckling, I can see your eyes through your paw. You can watch if you want, but we won’t give it to you,” she said as she looked down at it, smiling.

Ugly Duckling averted its eyes, removed its little paw, and looked up, expressionless.

Mag shook his head with a smile. After breakfast, he cleared the table and then opened his restaurant at half past seven.

As always, Mobai came here first, waiting outside, but behind Mobai, he found several others lining up spontaneously. Their faces lit up when Mag opened the door; several smiled, and said, “Good morning, Mag.”