From Wage Slave to Tycoon

San Yuan Canteen didn’t look very big, only about 300 square feet or so, but a long line had already formed at its entrance.

Su Chen took a look and noticed that most of the people in line were elderly. There were almost no young people.

This surprised Su Chen. For so many elderly people to voluntarily line up like this, this restaurant had to be something special.

Unable to contain his curiosity, he turned to a slightly hunched middle-aged man in front of him and asked, "Sir, what’s the deal with this San Yuan Canteen? Why is it all elderly people lining up?"

The middle-aged man turned around. His somewhat cloudy eyes looked Su Chen up and down before he spoke. "Judging by your accent, you’re not from Zheng Island, are you? A tourist?"

Su Chen nodded. "Yeah, I just got here yesterday afternoon."

The man got an "I knew it" look on his face. He turned back to look at the bustling San Yuan Canteen and said slowly, "The owner of this restaurant is a truly good person."

"Most of the people lining up are lonely elderly folks who live nearby. Life is very hard for them. San Yuan Canteen provides them with three free meals a day."

After saying this, he seemed to remember something and quickly added, "The shop is also open for regular business, you just can’t dine in."

Just as he finished speaking, Su Chen caught sight of several more elderly people arriving behind them out of the corner of his eye. They were hunched over, with sallow complexions and so thin you could hardly see any flesh on their bones. One of them had arrived on a homemade "two-wheeler."

The two-wheeler was incredibly simple, just two tires and an iron rod. The man’s upper legs were fixed to the rod, and he moved by pushing the wheels with his hands.

Su Chen was shocked by the sight. ’How can something like that still exist? Can he not even afford a wheelchair?’

Amid his shock, Su Chen overheard the elderly people chatting amongst themselves.

"Where are you going to collect scrap today?" "I’m going to work as a mover over there." These words struck Su Chen like bolts of lightning.

These people all looked to be in their fifties or sixties. How could they still be doing such work just to survive?

He recalled what the middle-aged man had said—that the people who came to San Yuan Canteen were lonely and elderly, people who even struggled to get a meal. In that light, collecting scrap or working as movers to earn money suddenly seemed understandable.

Soon, it was Su Chen’s turn. He finally got a clear look inside San Yuan Canteen.

There were only two or three tables inside, all occupied by people with mobility issues or in wheelchairs. They were all eating their breakfast quietly.

"You want a breakfast too?" The man handing out the meals, who looked to be in his thirties, gave Su Chen a strange look.

Judging by Su Chen’s clothes and the watch on his wrist, he didn’t look like someone who couldn’t afford a meal.

The man’s question pulled Su Chen back from his thoughts. He saw that the bag the man was holding contained two steamed buns, two large meat buns, and an egg.

The insulated container on the table was filled with bags packed just like that, ready for people in line to grab and go. He estimated there were at least fifty or sixty portions. Next to it was a pot of steaming seafood congee.

"It’s my first time visiting Zheng Island, so I’m not really sure how things work here. I’ll take two breakfasts. How much is it?" Su Chen said, pointing to Jiang Hui behind him to indicate they were together.

When the man heard Su Chen was a tourist, the confusion on his face gradually faded. He took two breakfast bags from the container and handed them to Su Chen. "No charge. If you want congee, help yourself. There are disposable bowls and utensils over there."

He pointed to a nearby cardboard box filled with clear plastic bowls.

Hearing that it was free, Su Chen understood the situation. He didn’t make a fuss, simply said "thank you," and after getting two bowls of seafood congee with Jiang Hui, went to sit on the edge of a nearby planter box.

"Sir, perhaps we should find a cleaner place to sit," Jiang Hui couldn’t help but suggest, seeing Su Chen casually sitting on the planter.

Su Chen waved his hand dismissively. "It’s fine. It’s not like I haven’t done this before," he said calmly.

He then turned his gaze back to the man bustling about in San Yuan Canteen, his eyes filled with curiosity.

"Wow, there are a lot of ingredients in this seafood congee. It even has abalone and sea cucumber." After just two bites, Su Chen realized this congee was more than he had expected.

He had assumed it would be made with just some sea crabs or small shrimp, but he hadn’t expected abalone and sea cucumber.

In truth, things like abalone and sea cucumber aren’t very expensive in coastal regions. This is especially true in a seaside city like Zheng Island, which has dedicated offshore aquaculture farms. The prices are very low—even cheaper than pork in the inland regions.

But regardless of the price, it was clear that a lot of thought and effort went into San Yuan Canteen’s seafood congee.

Su Chen’s interest in the owner of San Yuan Canteen grew even stronger.

After finishing breakfast, Su Chen didn’t leave. He just sat quietly on the planter, watching the people still lining up for their food.

Su Chen saw many other elderly people like the man on the "two-wheeler." Although their lives were difficult, every one of them had a smile on their face. He knew that those smiles were a gift from San Yuan Canteen.

"This world may be tattered and torn, but there are always people trying to patch it up," Su Chen sighed with emotion.

After waiting for nearly half an hour, the rush at San Yuan Canteen finally ended, and the staff began to clean up inside.

Seeing this, Su Chen stood up and dusted off his pants. "Let’s go. Time to hear this good Samaritan’s story." With that, he strode toward San Yuan Canteen.