Night Market Street had always been bustling with people. However, the customers’ spending power wasn’t high. Generally, one could come in from the street entrance and leave having spent less than 20 yuan, managing to taste two or three snacks and feeling full.

With spending power so limited, the business thrives where the snacks are delicious and affordable.

Despite the daily hustle and bustle, there are always vendors closing shop and aspiring entrepreneurs joining the industry with ambition.

But often, they come with high hopes and leave disappointed.

Zhao Ming spoke without much intent, but his words made an impression.

Cheng Xiuli thought that this idea was actually quite good. If Boss Xiao Chen was willing and could teach a wide variety of snacks, Cheng Xiuli felt capable of making her customers dominate this street.

Imagine if every delicacy on the whole street was extraordinarily delicious.

Wow! Just thinking about it is exciting.

Of course, it’s just wishful thinking. Chen Mo has his own matters to prioritize and can’t indulge too much time here.

Zhao Ming now seemed to understand Chen Mo’s strategy, "Boss, do you mean every day you introduce a new snack, and then pass on the previous snacks to your colleagues?"

"You’re really smart." Chen Mo blinked, "Fuding Meat Slices, which flavor do you want? How many servings?"

Zhao Ming was hearing this snack for the first time, "Meat slices? What does that mean?"

"It’s basically cooking meat slices in water, then you choose a flavor you like."

Gazing at the signboard that displayed over ten flavors, Zhao Ming asked, "Boiled meat slices?"

With a peculiar expression, Chen Mo looked at this loyal customer who had supported his business for three consecutive days, "Interesting thought, but there’s still a bit of a difference."

"Then give me a serving of..." Zhao Ming, looking at the myriad choices, felt overwhelmed.

Surely he couldn’t order one of each flavor, right?

Whether it’s rabbit head or bean curd skin, those snacks rarely truly fill you up, so eating more is normal.

But with these meat slices, just hearing about them made him feel full already, Zhao Ming dared not order too much rashly.

After pondering for a long while, he finally settled on a safer choice, "I’ll go with the spicy flavor!"

Chen Mo nodded and began his preparation.

The spices were already divided into the food containers; the spicy flavor was relatively straightforward, a mix of clear soup and red oil, with additional pepper oil and sesame oil for enhanced taste.

Zhao Ming stood there watching as Chen Mo pulled out a long spatula, reminiscent of the small tool used in rural settings for plastering walls. Its width was less than three or four centimeters.

The spatula dug into a bucket beneath the food cart and scooped out a pinkish, paste-like substance.

"Isn’t it supposed to be meat slices?" Zhao Ming asked.

He initially thought it would be thinly sliced meat boiled, pondering what could be so tasty about that?

"Once cooked, it becomes meat slices."

Chen Mo flattened the meat paste with a chopstick on the spatula, holding the handle with his left hand, as he started peeling off the paste into the pot with the chopstick in his right hand.

Each time he sliced with the chopstick, a piece of the meat paste would fall into the pot, and the water in that black pot hadn’t even reached boiling point yet.

"Tsk, this method looks quite interesting."

Chen Mo remained silent, just focusing on peeling the meat slices.

Logically, there are many ways to make meat slices. The most widespread is using hands directly, but Chen Mo felt it gives an unsanitary impression to the customers on-site.

It’s just a feeling.

In fact, wearing gloves is no problem, but many people naturally have an aversion when they see others directly touching food, even with gloves.

Hence, Chen Mo came up with using this tool.

In fact, tools like this are still widely used in Jingzhou’s folklore as well. There’s a unique local noodle called "Pagu" or "Tijian".

Essentially, the dough is turned into a paste, placed on the spatula, and peeled off with chopsticks.

Experienced chefs can make enough noodles for more than ten young men in just over ten minutes, with a speed that’s impressive and a taste that locals favor.

Chen Mo thought these two methods were largely similar; the difference is merely that Jingzhou uses dough and Fujian uses meat.

Initially, before dining with Cheng Xiuli, he tried once and discovered that peeling the meat paste with chopsticks resulted in a rounded strip, and that wasn’t meat slices anymore, but meat strips!

Later, Chen Mo figured out a solution.

He would freeze the meat paste, but not until it became solid. Instead, it was more like a creamy ice cream state. The spatula, dipped in cold water, flattened the meat paste.

At this moment, peeling with chopsticks felt more like segmenting the meat paste from the spatula, ensuring that the meat still resembled slices when it entered the pot.

The water temperature in this iron pot was consistently maintained at 80°C, and there’s a rationale behind this.

If the water boiled, the meat paste could easily disperse. Maintaining this temperature meant the meat slices were made using a method similar to "low-temperature immersion."

It resulted in a texture that was more tender and smooth!

Each serving of meat slices sold for 10 yuan, and a scoop could yield about 15 slices.

Chen Mo worked swiftly, the chopsticks danced over the spatula, and the entire meat paste floated into the pot, sinking into the hot water, bobbing up, and growing larger!

"Here you go!" Chen Mo used a black ladle to scoop slightly boiling clear soup into the spicy bowl, then ladled the meat slices into the bowl from the clear water pot.