In the future, I'll be sure to lend Uncle a helping hand.

Fang Chang'an carried a box of buns back to the classroom. The students of Class Four were already accustomed to this scene; unlike at first, they no longer crowded around, nor did they form a queue, but maintained a tacit rhythm—never too many people at once, yet someone was always collecting their share.

"There's an abundance of buns today. The usual shop was overwhelmed, so I bought a few more from the street," Fang Chang'an placed two bags of street-bought buns on Wang Ke's desk. "They're a bit smaller than usual, so every order comes with two extra. If you don't mind, help yourself to these."

Though the street buns were slightly smaller, their supply was limited. The offer of two extra made it a better deal, especially for those who ordered fewer. Everyone understood this was advantageous, yet no one rushed to be the first; they glanced at each other, hesitating. Then Xu Yang declared, "I'll have some," and walked over, prompting several others to gather around Wang Ke's desk.

Some clustered around, while others, embarrassed to linger too obviously, went to collect their buns from Fang Chang'an instead.

Wang Yuwei said, "Class leader, isn't two extra buns a bit much? Are you sure you won't end up losing money?"

Fang Chang'an laughed, "Do you think I'm foolish? Working myself to exhaustion and still losing money? When I buy so many buns, if the boss doesn't throw in a few extras, I wouldn't bother."

Hearing Wang Yuwei's concern, those like Xu Yang, who were grabbing extra buns, felt a bit embarrassed, but after Fang Chang'an spoke, everyone laughed.

Despite their youth, none were naive; they understood that Fang Chang'an must be making a profit from this daily hustle. Still, buying buns themselves would cost ten cents each, whereas now they could simply wait in the classroom and enjoy them—clearly a good deal. So no one complained.

Now that Fang Chang'an had brought it up himself, Li Dongfeng joked, "Class leader, with so many buns every day, how much do you make?"

"I work myself to the bone; surely I can eat a few more buns, can't I?" Fang Chang'an glared at him, counted out the buns for Class One, and took them outside. "Help yourselves. Li Dongfeng, Chen Yu, keep an eye on things."

Everyone was used to this routine. After Fang Chang'an left, each took their own buns. Wang Ke checked off the list, Li Dongfeng and Chen Yu assisted, occasionally delivering buns to classmates who hadn't moved.

"Zhang Lu, Li Xiaoyi, these are yours," Li Dongfeng said as he returned with his ten buns, bringing eight for Zhang Lu's desk.

"Thank you," Zhang Lu whispered, her voice barely audible, like a mosquito. She glanced inside the bag and immediately noticed, as with yesterday, there were two extra buns.

When they found out about the extras yesterday morning, she thought Li Xiaoyi had bought five. But after splitting them, they confirmed there were two more than ordered. They asked Li Dongfeng if there was a mistake, and he assumed there were fewer, so he fetched Wang Ke's list to check—four buns, just as ordered.

The two shy, self-respecting, and quiet teenagers said nothing but ate four buns each. Afterwards, Zhang Lu handed Li Xiaoyi a dime, asking him to find a chance to give it to Fang Chang'an.

However, Li Xiaoyi still hadn't found an opportunity to speak with Fang Chang'an alone. He was embarrassed for others to know he could only afford a thirty-cent breakfast, even though observant classmates surely noticed during bun distribution.

Yesterday evening during roll call seemed a chance; he slipped the extra money inside and quietly emphasized he and Zhang Lu had ordered three buns each. But it was returned with two dimes and the words, "That's the price."

Fang Chang'an seemed a bit impatient, and then Wu Di returned from outside. Li Xiaoyi felt too awkward to say anything and slipped away.

Now, facing eight buns again, Li Xiaoyi was at a loss. Zhang Lu, however, quietly separated four buns for him, then ate in silence.

When Fang Chang'an returned to the classroom, he glanced at Li Xiaoyi and Zhang Lu, saw them eating their buns quietly, said nothing, and returned to his seat to eat.

At noon, as school let out, Shen Chengyan appeared once more at the classroom door. He took Shen Mo and Fang Chang'an home for lunch, then brought Fang Chang'an to Xushang Road to look at a storefront.

Xushang Road was the National Highway 310, stretching east from Lianyungang to Tianshui in Gansu, crossing the breadth of China and holding a vital place in the country's transport network.

Huangnanji was originally south of the road, but as it developed, more residents settled to the north. Overall, however, the south remained more prosperous, as seen in the distribution of schools: only Third Middle School was to the north, while First, Second, and Haitian Middle Schools were all to the south.

Because the highway often had long-distance drivers, many eateries and inns nearby targeted them as customers. In earlier years, some offered special services, earning a certain notoriety in the county and even the city.

Thanks to persistent police efforts and several crackdowns, those services had mostly disappeared, and Fang Chang'an only heard about them in later years.

Shen Chengyan's friend's shop was separated from Xushang Road by an alley, running parallel to the highway and facing south. There were other shops and residents nearby, but it was far less lively than the highway, and certainly couldn't compare to the town center.

Thus, the shop was quite spacious—two units, over six meters wide, nearly ten meters deep, with an estimated area exceeding fifty square meters. More than ample for making buns.

"What do you think? Not bad, right?" Shen Chengyan surveyed the place, feeling quite satisfied.

Fang Chang'an nodded, "Much better than I imagined. Won't it be expensive?"

"It's been vacant nearly a year, no one's interested, can't find tenants. My friend and I are close, so when I mentioned it yesterday, he was eager to let me have it for next to nothing."

Shen Chengyan was no stranger to worldly affairs; he understood his friend's words were partly pleasantries, perhaps even flattery, and he didn't intend to take undue advantage. Still, he played it up in front of Fang Chang'an, emphasizing his own popularity.

Seeing Fang Chang'an's astonished and admiring expression, Shen Chengyan was delighted. "I plan to get everything ready this week and officially start delivering buns next week. How does that sound?"

Fang Chang'an laughed, "Perfect timing. I'm already a bit overwhelmed, was starting to worry."

Shen Chengyan slapped him on the back of the head. "Afraid Uncle Shen will shortchange you?"

Fang Chang'an rubbed his head, about to speak, but Shen Chengyan was already smiling. "Since it's your idea, and you don't want your parents as partners, let's say we go in together—I'll give you thirty percent. Is that alright?"

Fang Chang'an was stunned. He had put in plenty of effort, and though he was prepared to see his work benefit others—he would keep any resentment to himself, maintaining good relations with Shen Chengyan's family—what he really sought was a share in the venture, a way to profit with little investment.

That was his most optimistic scenario. He had considered that Shen Chengyan might, after making money, give him a bonus as compensation.

He had imagined many possibilities, but never expected Shen Chengyan to be so generous.

Because aside from the original idea, Fang Chang'an was unlikely to play any role in the shop's actual operations; money and labor would all be provided by Shen Chengyan.

Giving him even ten percent would be kind; yet he was offered thirty percent?

"Uncle Shen..."

Fang Chang'an hurried to decline, but Shen Chengyan interrupted with a smile, "Enough, I know what you'll say. I've calculated: opening the shop will cost at most ten or twenty thousand; I can afford it."

"I'm not seeking riches, just something to do. Making more money has no real meaning. Besides, it was your idea. If I shortchanged you, would your teacher, Ms. Cheng, let me off?"

"If you really want to thank me, study hard. When you achieve great success one day, give Uncle Shen a hand."

He joked, unable to help but laugh. "Come to think of it, I'm only a dozen years older than you. When you're in your thirties or forties and your career's thriving, I won't be old yet—I'll still have time."

Fang Chang'an looked up, gazed at Shen Chengyan for several seconds, then nodded firmly. "Thank you, Uncle Shen."

"What's there to thank?" Shen Chengyan had decided to give it his all; his spirits seemed newly liberated. Compared to the first time Fang Chang'an met him, his appearance hadn't changed much—hair slicked, formal black shoes, black trousers, white shirt—but his demeanor now was that of a vigorous young man, fresh from campus and bursting into society, full of ambition.

"Let's go find the shop owner," he said.

Fang Chang'an, feeling inspired, followed Shen Chengyan out of the shop, laughing, "Let's move their storefront over here!"

"Exactly!" Shen Chengyan laughed too. "Let's move their storefront over here!"