Let him know that there are good people in this world.

“The mouth is nothing compared to the stomach.”
When such words came from a child, Shen Chengyan was momentarily at a loss for how to respond.
He himself was only in his twenties, with some life experience, but nothing particularly profound; with his own background, it was hard to claim any depth of insight.
Yet, after spending these days in close company with Fang Chang’an, Shen Chengyan felt that, despite the boy’s young age, there was no way he was merely parroting empty phrases for effect. The more they spoke, the greater Shen Chengyan’s sense of pity and tenderness grew.
“In this respect, you understand more than your uncle,”
Shen Chengyan nodded, then realized this might be inappropriate, and quickly amended, “I mean, I trust you.”
Fang Chang’an smiled, showing he hadn’t taken offense, and continued, “At school, we can have students act as agents. Their main job would be to distribute the buns according to a list. We can use a number registration system, assigning each student a fixed number—even if they don’t order for a while, we can hold their number for some time. This way, when packing, the buns can be divided accordingly, reducing chances of error.”
“Of course, we can work with the teachers, but personally, I prefer students. Communication is faster among them, and it costs less—ten free buns a day would be enough.”
“Student selection can be voluntary at first, then we can approach class leaders later, which should be more convenient.”
The bun business had never been part of Fang Chang’an’s original plan, but once he recognized the opportunity, he quickly thought further ahead. Still, it wasn’t the right moment to lay all his ideas bare.
Even what he had just shared far surpassed the typical abilities of a junior high student. Shen Chengyan was both astonished and somewhat embarrassed, feeling less capable than this child.
The lamb had probably been stewed in advance; while they spoke, a woman who appeared to be the owner’s wife brought over a bowl of lamb soup. Shen Chengyan called out, “Eat, eat, let’s eat first.”
He took the chance to digest Fang Chang’an’s suggestions, finding them quite reasonable… and the lamb soup was excellent.
Shen Chengyan gnawed two pieces of lamb, ladled out half a bowl of soup, and said to Fang Chang’an, “A friend of mine has a shop near Xushang Road, just across an intersection, close to both Second and Third Middle Schools. Haitan is a bit further, but the place is about forty square meters. Do you think that’s big enough?”
Fang Chang’an swallowed the lamb in his mouth and replied, “More than enough. The main thing is the kitchen—it needs to be large, because if production is high, one or two people won’t manage. The front isn’t so important, since we’re not relying on walk-in business.”
Shen Chengyan nodded and added, “Alright, I’ll go check it out after work tomorrow. Want to come along?”
Fang Chang’an smiled, “Uncle Shen, I’m just theorizing on paper; you’ll have to make the real decisions. Besides, I don’t get much time off, and missing class would mean Teacher Cheng scolding me.”
“No worries, I’ll get you leave,”
Shen Chengyan promised with a manly assurance, “If anything comes up, your uncle’s got your back.”
After a while, the chicken in the clay pot was served, along with a large basin of lamb head soup. The chicken was in a big pot, but contrary to Shen Chengyan’s earlier request, they hadn’t put bread in the soup. The owner came over to explain, “There’s not enough soup for bread; if you’re still hungry, I’ll make another pot and bring it over.”
Fang Chang’an was amazed. He’d had clay pot chicken many times, yet never knew such a method existed. Shen Chengyan glanced at the two large basins and said, “Forget it, let’s eat first. We’ll see about more after.”
Fang Chang’an ate diligently, Shen Mo was equally enthusiastic, and Shen Chengyan, weighed down by his thoughts, hadn’t eaten much at home that noon and was quite hungry. All three ate until their bellies rounded, just managing to finish.
“Not bad—I thought there’d be leftovers. You two eat more than I expected,”
Shen Chengyan downed half a glass of cola in one go, burped, and patted his stomach with a teasing grin.

Shen Mo slouched against the back of her chair, a sweet smile on her face. “I’m stuffed.”
“So am I,” Fang Chang’an replied.
Shen Chengyan sat a while longer, waved his hand, and called, “Madam, how much?”
The owner’s wife wiped her hands on her apron and came over, “Sixty-two.”
Twenty years from now, even a portion of clay pot chicken would cost more than that, not to mention a basin of lamb soup. Considering income levels, Fang Chang’an felt that things were actually pricier nowadays.
Shen Chengyan paid, dropped Fang Chang’an and Shen Mo back at school, and returned home to find Cheng Mengfei watching TV. Seeing him enter, she asked, “Did you drop them off?”
Shen Chengyan nodded and sat on the sofa. Cheng Mengfei leaned in, “What’s on your mind?”
Shen Chengyan glanced at the TV, where “Legend of the New White Snake” was playing, and said, “Change the channel. I don’t want to watch this.”
Cheng Mengfei chuckled, picked up the remote, and simply switched the TV off. Shen Chengyan finally relaxed into the sofa, sighed, and said, “Fang Chang’an says he wants his parents to go out and work instead of doing this.”
“Why?”
Cheng Mengfei was surprised. “Anyway, do his parents even listen to him?”
Shen Chengyan replied, “I don’t know if it’s about listening, but at least they respect him. This child is so precocious, thinks farther ahead than I do, and more thoroughly.”
“I ran into Teacher Xu this afternoon—Fang Chang’an’s aunt.”
Cheng Mengfei recalled, “We chatted; she said Fang Chang’an’s mother is fine, but his father is… well, fond of cards and drinking, apparently owes a lot of money.”
Shen Chengyan was taken aback. “You mean gambling?”
Cheng Mengfei nodded. Shen Chengyan drew a breath, brows furrowed. “They’ve been cracking down hard these past couple of years, and yet there’s still gambling? I’ll have to report it.”
Cheng Mengfei slapped his leg, “Does that make me a snitch?”
“At most, you’re just reporting the situation.”
Shen Chengyan managed a smile. “Don’t worry, I know my limits. Fang Chang’an said his father’s planning to go out and work.”
Cheng Mengfei gave a soft “hmm” and asked, “But you haven’t said why.”
Shen Chengyan recounted Fang Chang’an’s words. Cheng Mengfei was surprised, “That… doesn’t sound like something a twelve-year-old would say.”
“That’s why they say children from poor families mature early.”
Shen Chengyan sighed. “He’s smart, studious, and thoughtful. I just worry that being so clever at such a young age, in a tough family situation, maturing too early might not be good. If he grows cynical, it’ll be hard to change later.”
Cheng Mengfei shot him a look, brows knitted, a little dissatisfied. “I don’t see any cynicism in him. He’s bright, polite, eager to learn and improve…”

“I’m just worried, in case.”
Shen Chengyan spoke earnestly, “Think about it—his family’s struggling, his father gambles and owes debts. What kind of impression does his environment give him? If he matured later, he’d have some discernment, but being so sharp and observant from a young age, and acting so well-mannered, polite, and sunny… that’s why I worry.”
Cheng Mengfei considered it and found his reasoning sound, though she couldn’t untangle what to do, and scratched her head in frustration. “Leave him be for now; there’s still time. I can observe and guide him slowly. What are you planning to do?”
Shen Chengyan thought a moment. “Since Fang Chang’an said so, there’s no need to partner with his parents.”
“You’re planning to pocket his idea?” Cheng Mengfei’s eyes widened in indignation, as if ready to defend the student’s rights.
Shen Chengyan laughed, “What do you take me for? Not partnering with his parents, but with him.”
“Huh?”
“He’s the one with the idea. Over lunch, I asked, and he’s already figured out how to promote it in school. It all makes sense. So, I’ll count him as a technical partner; I’ll invest money and effort, he studies as usual, and I’ll give him thirty percent shares. That should be fair.”
Cheng Mengfei was stunned, sat up straight, and after a moment turned to him, “Isn’t thirty percent a bit much? You’re quitting your job to do this, and the money’s all from us.”
Shen Chengyan replied, “It doesn’t really matter how much. I’m not expecting to get rich from this. My main concern is that he’s so clever—if guided well, he could achieve great things. But if he goes astray, who knows where he’ll end up.”
He pulled his wife close and spoke sincerely, “Think about it—his family’s poor, in debt. You rarely contact Teacher Xu, his aunt, but just chatting today, she told you about his father’s gambling and drinking debts. Even if people are courteous on the surface, what attitude do they hold inside?”
“That’s just his own uncle and aunt. What about others?”
“I don’t rule out the possibility that Fang Chang’an is naturally optimistic and kind, but which possibility seems more likely to you?”
Cheng Mengfei frowned, pondering, still unable to believe it, and said with some dissatisfaction, “So what you mean is that twelve-year-old Fang Chang’an, who seems so well-behaved and obedient, is actually hiding a cynical, resentful heart?”
“No.”
Shen Chengyan sighed helplessly. “I mean, he’s still young, and the future holds many possibilities. Being well-mannered and positive is one possibility, but I can’t rule out another. I want to guide him toward the better path.”
“That’s more like it.”
Cheng Mengfei finally nodded in satisfaction and asked, “But what does that have to do with partnering?”
“I want him to know that there are good people in this world—and that there are more good people than bad.”
Shen Chengyan’s expression was earnest and solemn. “That’s worth more than any lecture.”