Chapter 26: Granny, How About You Provide the Shop and I Provide the Labor?

Although Ye Muqi had made a preliminary judgment that it was likely hypoglycemia, she wasn’t a doctor, so caution was necessary.

The old woman could still hear; though her eyes were closed, she managed to nod with difficulty.

“Phew…” Ye Muqi finally relaxed. If it was just hypoglycemia, that was easy to deal with—no need for a hospital visit. Just some sugar, some carbs, and rest would do.

Ye Muqi discreetly pulled out a piece of chocolate from her space. It was high in calories and worked even better than sugar.

She broke the chocolate into small pieces and fed them into the old woman’s mouth while supporting her unsteady body.

After feeding her about half the chocolate, the old woman finally came around. Though her face was still pale, at least she wasn’t in danger of passing out again.

“Granny, hold this and eat a bit more,” Ye Muqi handed over the rest of the chocolate and reminded her worriedly, “This is hypoglycemia. You can’t skip breakfast like that anymore.”

If Ye Muqi hadn’t coincidentally walked into the shop—and with no one else around—the consequences could’ve been much worse.

Hypoglycemia might seem minor, but if left untreated, it could be deadly.

“Thank you, young lady. I was just too busy this morning and forgot to eat,” the old woman said gratefully, looking at Ye Muqi. “You came in for something to eat, right? Order whatever you like—on me.”

As she spoke, she put down the chocolate and tried to stand up to cook something for Ye Muqi.

But the chocolate was too sweet and sticky—it wasn’t to her taste.

“No need, no need.” Seeing her pale face, Ye Muqi quickly stopped her. “Granny, you should rest. I’ll cook for myself.”

“You… you’ll cook yourself?” the old woman looked shocked.

Letting a customer cook? That was unheard of!

“I’m a chef. Cooking a bit is no problem at all,” Ye Muqi explained, thinking the old woman was worried she’d waste ingredients.

“This…” The old woman hesitated but eventually nodded, though she still looked a bit embarrassed.

After all, this girl had saved her and now had to cook for herself.

Ye Muqi walked to the stove. Most of the food had been sold out—only some dough was left, probably for pancakes or noodles, since there was no yeast in it.

She boiled a pot of water and kneaded the dough again. When the water started boiling, she grabbed a knife and took the dough in hand.

The old woman had recovered by now and came over curiously to watch Ye Muqi work at the stove.

She saw Ye Muqi slice the dough swiftly—each noodle was even in size and thickness. Her knife moved faster and faster, almost like a blur, which left the old woman gaping in awe.

Now she truly believed Ye Muqi was a chef. That kind of knife skill couldn’t be developed without at least ten years of practice!

But looking at her… she didn’t seem that old!

Soon, Ye Muqi had prepared two bowls of hand-cut noodles, topped with a couple of blanched greens. Just looking at it made one’s appetite surge.

“Granny, I made a bowl for you too.”

“Thank you.”

The old woman ate quickly, even finishing the soup—it was clear she was genuinely hungry.

“Granny, even if you’re busy running the shop, you still need to take care of your health. You’re not young anymore. Maybe someone in your family could help out?” Seeing the woman eat heartily, Ye Muqi began eating at a slower pace herself.

The old woman seemed kind, and Ye Muqi didn’t want another emergency like earlier.

Sigh! The woman let out a long sigh, her expression turning sorrowful. “I only have a six-year-old grandson left. My son and daughter-in-law died in an accident years ago.”

Ye Muqi hadn’t expected to hit such a painful topic with her question and immediately froze in awkwardness.

“I’m sorry…”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” the old woman cut her off gently. “They’re gone, and that’s that. I just feel sorry for my little grandson. He lost his parents so young, and he’s not healthy either—always needing to go to the hospital. I’m just an old woman and can only sell breakfast to earn enough money for his treatment.”

Her name was Cai Dongmei, 52 years old—just a bit older than Xia Ying—but she looked like she was from an entirely different generation.

You could tell her life had been hard. No wonder she was running a breakfast stall alone.

“Granny, do you only sell breakfast here?” Ye Muqi asked after thinking for a bit.

She had looked over the kitchen earlier and could tell it wasn’t set up for continued business. If she hadn’t saved the old woman, there probably wouldn’t have been anything left for sale.

So this place was likely only a breakfast shop.

But in modern times, breakfast shops usually ran all day. They might still serve breakfast items at lunch, and also sell rice, stir-fries, and so on.

“My grandson is still young and sick. After I finish the morning rush, I have to go home to care for him,” Cai Dongmei nodded. “And I’m just an old woman—cooking all day is too exhausting for me.”

“I see.” Ye Muqi understood. The old woman didn’t look particularly strong—working all day would probably wear her out.

Hiring someone wasn’t an option either. All her money was going toward her grandson’s medical bills. Where would she find the funds to pay for help?

Well, wasn’t this just perfect?

She was looking for a shop, and the old woman had one. The old woman needed help, and she could offer that.

“Granny, I have an idea,” Ye Muqi’s eyes lit up. “Selling only breakfast brings in too little. With your health, you can only make a limited variety of food. You’re barely covering living expenses, let alone medical costs.”

She continued, analyzing the situation for Cai Dongmei. The shop’s location was actually quite good—it was a waste to only sell breakfast.

“I’m a chef. I can handle not just breakfast but lunch too. How about this—we partner up. You provide the shop, I provide the labor, and we run it all day. That way, we can earn a lot more.”

“Really?”

Cai Dongmei was tempted. She had thought about selling lunch too—it would definitely bring in more money—but her body simply couldn’t handle it.

But Ye Muqi could. And that bowl of noodles she had just made didn’t use many fancy ingredients, but the flavor was amazing—better than her own cooking. The noodles were springy and had great texture. With those skills, attracting customers wouldn’t be a problem.

“But…”

“Don’t worry about the ingredients—I can handle everything myself,” Ye Muqi reassured her, seeing the old woman hesitate.

After all, her supermarket in her space had everything she needed.

“But with your skills, you could easily open your own shop. Why come partner with an old woman like me?” Cai Dongmei was moved but still wary.

Ye Muqi understood—she’d be suspicious too if someone suddenly showed up proposing a partnership.

“To be honest, I’m just looking for a place to start a business, but I haven’t found a suitable one yet,” Ye Muqi sighed.