Chapter 27: It's Been a While, Brother Ran

“Uncle Zhang, please accept this money.” That evening, riding the three-wheeled cart back to the place where Zhang Lei and his father lived, Mo Ran took the initiative to hand over the two thousand yuan in cash he had earned that day.

“Mo Ran, what’s this for?” Uncle Zhang, who was Xiao Xiao’s uncle, looked at the money in Mo Ran’s hand with some confusion.

“Uncle Zhang, I made this selling lamb skewers tonight. I withdrew the cash for you at the ATM. Please keep it safe.” Seeing his puzzlement, Mo Ran quickly explained.

“Young man, what are you doing? Keep the money for yourself. Once business picks up, you can give it to me all at once.” Uncle Zhang looked at Mo Ran’s honest face, feeling a pang of emotion—such a decent young man, yet fate had dealt him a hard hand.

“Uncle Zhang, I…” Mo Ran looked troubled; having received such help yet unable to repay it made him uneasy.

“Enough, enough; help someone all the way, see them through. Mo Ran, as a man, keep everything in your heart.” Uncle Zhang patted Mo Ran’s shoulder, then went inside without waiting for his reaction.

Mo Ran stood there for a long while, watching Uncle Zhang’s retreating figure. Gritting his teeth, he made a decision.

At dawn, Mo Ran rode Uncle Zhang’s three-wheeler out. He planned to buy premium lamb at the market and, at midday, look at houses to rent. Staying in someone else’s home was not a long-term solution; it always felt like a moral burden.

He wandered through the market, buying lamb, marinade spices, and all the necessary barbecue condiments. Finally, he acquired a large barbecue grill, loaded everything onto the cart, and rode leisurely back toward Uncle Zhang’s house.

“You’re up early, stocking up. Once you get the hang of things, you can have the lamb shop owners deliver right to you.” Uncle Zhang was practicing in the courtyard when he saw Mo Ran carrying supplies inside. He gave him a thumbs-up, smiling.

“I’m still new at this,” Mo Ran replied with a grin, setting down his things.

“That’s true. You go ahead and get busy. I’ll head back inside for a nap.” Uncle Zhang’s eyes flashed with a hint of something as he noticed Mo Ran’s discomfort, then he made an excuse and went back inside.

Mo Ran paused for a moment, then sped up his work. He needed to finish quickly and find a place to rent, so he could move out; living like this was too inconvenient.

After a flurry of activity, it was already ten in the morning. Without stopping to rest, Mo Ran organized everything, skipped even a sip of water, and rushed out again. He didn’t return until four in the afternoon, riding a slightly rusty three-wheeler, which now carried a freezer.

“Mo Ran, what’s this about?” Uncle Zhang, seeing the three-wheeler, already guessed part of it but couldn’t help asking.

“Uncle Zhang, I rented an old house with a little courtyard. I came back to tidy up, and tonight I won’t be returning.” Facing his benefactor, Mo Ran felt a bit awkward, but forced himself to explain.

“You kid…” Uncle Zhang’s eyes flashed with praise, though he kept a straight face.

“Uncle Zhang, I’m a poor boy lucky to have your guidance. I’ll remember your kindness forever. And about the money—I’ll repay you as soon as I can.” Seeing the conversation had reached this point, Mo Ran bowed deeply to express his gratitude.

Returning to his newly rented “home” for a thousand a month, Mo Ran immediately began tidying up. He had few personal belongings—just a travel bag; everything else was related to his barbecue business.

Four large foam boxes held two hundred lamb skewers, with bottled ice beneath them for preservation. Then there was the grill and fruitwood charcoal. Mo Ran plugged in the second-hand freezer from the market and, just to be safe, set up an extension cord to charge the three-wheeler’s battery—who knew how long it would last?

After all the fuss, it was nearly time to start work again. Mo Ran prepared to set out on his money-making journey.

Unlike the day before, Mo Ran’s phone kept ringing all the way, with messages asking if he’d arrived yet.

As soon as he reached the spot, a crowd of customers swarmed around—some helped maintain order, some helped unload, but most just watched, enjoying the lively scene.

Mo Ran kept repeating “thank you”—after all, when you’re out in the world, politeness is key. Every helping hand deserved gratitude, especially since most were warm-hearted university students, and, most importantly, his own customers.

Once everything was unloaded, Mo Ran began adding fruitwood charcoal under the grill. Just like yesterday, he waited for the flames to build, then sprinkled spices over them. Soon, a unique aroma wafted out, making everyone’s eyes light up—the scent was irresistible.

“That’s the smell! Young man, quick, give me twenty skewers first. I’ll take them home to show my rebellious kids what real barbecue is.” A male student who’d been there yesterday seized the moment and ordered twenty skewers before anyone else could react.

He didn’t stop there—while speaking, he scanned the payment code. Before he finished, Mo Ran’s phone chimed: “WeChat received 400 yuan.”

The whole process took less than a minute. Everyone saw someone leap ahead and take twenty skewers—how could they let that happen?

The scene was silent for about five seconds, then everyone rushed to scan the payment code. Some, afraid of being too slow, pulled out crisp bills and handed them directly to Mo Ran, igniting the atmosphere.

“You’re really handsome, young man. Do you have a girlfriend?” Amid the rush, a bold female student gathered her courage to ask, her tone shy.

“Now, come on, we’re here to eat, not to look for anything else. No stealing hearts here!” The male students waiting in line protested—this was about food, not romance. What, were they supposed to sprinkle puppy love instead of seasoning on the lamb?

“Miss, someone as greasy as me better stick to selling skewers. Here, these are the three you ordered.” Mo Ran smiled and gently declined, handing her the lamb skewers.

By eight-thirty that evening, all two hundred skewers had sold out, and Mo Ran was exhausted. There was no helping it—he had to keep track of each customer’s order and watch the grill, a real challenge for a newbie.

He forced himself to stay alert, comforting latecomer students who missed out on lamb skewers, then collapsed onto the ground without caring if it was dirty, needing a moment to catch his breath.

Just then, the scent of gardenias drifted past his nose, and a figure appeared before him.

“Sorry, the skewers are sold out,” Mo Ran said with a smile, lifting his head. But in the next moment, his smile froze.

“Long time no see, Brother Ran.” Mo Ya, dressed in a light cotton jacket, hands clasped behind her back, bent her cute head and looked at him with a bright smile.

“Xiao Ya, you—you’re here?” Mo Ran’s eyes widened in surprise. He had unexpectedly run into his favorite playmate from the orphanage.