Chen Ren stood at his humble stall, the scent of freshly made rice noodles wafting through the air. Ever since he'd been making those noodles, he felt like he smelled of rice noodles and broth.
He looked around, taking in the sights and sounds.
Lines and lines of stalls lined in the street, each vendor shouting out their wares with practised fervour. Brightly coloured banners fluttered in the wind, and the mixture of haggling voices melded with the clatter of carts and the laughter of children.
He had overestimated himself.
Just because he had a product from Earth, he had thought it would be an instant success in this world. After all, it had worked back in the Tang Clan's courtyard— servants lining up daily, eagerly awaiting his latest batch of noodles. But he realised now that there had been more to their enthusiasm than just the taste.
They were curious about the novelty he brought with him, intrigued by his sudden transformation from a disinterested youth to a diligent cook. And, of course, the noodles were free.
Out here, on the crowded streets of the city, it was a different story. His stall was just another face in the crowd, blending in with the myriad of other food vendors and merchants selling everything from exotic spices to handmade trinkets. No one stopped, no one even glanced his way. He was invisible among the throng, another forgettable peddler with no charm or allure to his setup.
Chen Ren frowned, tapping his finger against the wooden counter.
He needed to rethink his approach. Marketing, that was the key.
Back on Earth, businesses rose and fell on the strength of word of mouth. He had learned that firsthand during his brief stint working in a noodle shop back in high school. He needed to create a buzz, and he had just the trick to get people talking.
All he needed was a little bit of attention, something to draw in the first few customers and let word of mouth do the rest.
His eyes roamed over the crowd, searching for inspiration.
There were merchants haggling over prices, nobles in fine silks moving through the market with their retinues, farmers with weather-beaten faces hauling produce, and beggars crouched by the roadside, holding out their hands for alms. He took it all in, letting the chaos wash over him.
Then, his gaze fell on a group of children huddled near the entrance of a narrow alley on the other side of the street.
They were scruffy and tiny, with eyes wide with hunger and curiosity as they watched the busy stalls and the food being sold. Every now and then, they whispered among themselves, heads ducked low, as if trying not to draw attention to themselves.
It was clear to anyone who would look at them to know what they were planning to do.
A smile tugged at Chen Ren's lips. They were the ones he was looking for.
He walked with a slow, deliberate pace, blending into the sea of people as if he were part of the marketplace's very fabric. His steps were light, like a leaf drifting along a stream. He approached the group of children huddled near the alleyway without them even noticing.
"Hello there," he said softly, coming to a stop just a few feet away from the kids.
The children jumped at his voice, their eyes going wide with fear. One of the younger boys, his face dirty and hair a matted mess, blurted out, "We haven't stolen anything, I swear!"
Chen Ren chuckled, shaking his head. "I know you haven't," he replied, his tone gentle but knowing. "But I also know you were just about to."
The kids froze, their expressions shifting from fear to sheer panic. Their eyes darted around, looking for an escape route, and he could see them inching backward, ready to bolt at the first sign of trouble.
"Wait, wait!" Chen Ren raised his hands, palms out in a gesture of peace. "I'm not here to reprimand you or turn you in. I actually have a job for you, and if you do it well, I'll feed you. How does that sound?"
The children hesitated, still on edge, but his words made them pause. Hunger and curiosity warred in their eyes, and they glanced at each other's uncertainty. Finally, one of the older boys, who looked to be around twelve, asked, "What kind of job?"
Before Chen Ren could answer, a girl with sharp eyes and roughly chopped hair stepped forward, her arms crossed over her chest. "We shouldn't listen to him," she said to the others. Then she turned her gaze to Chen Ren, suspicion etched across her features. "We're not joining any gangs, mister."
Chen Ren raised an eyebrow, amused. "Do I really look like a ruffian to you?" He gestured to his simple clothes, clean and well-maintained, and then pointed toward his stall. "I run that food stall over there. The job is straightforward, nothing dangerous. And once it's done, you'll get to eat your fill."
The girl hesitated, her eyes flicking back and forth between Chen Ren and the other children. He could see the wheels turning in her head as she weighed her options. Finally, she gave a slow nod, her stance relaxing slightly. "Alright, what's the job?"
Chen Ren crouched down to their level.
"All you need to do is spread a little word around the marketplace and in a few specific places. Tell them what exactly I tell you. Simple, right? Don't worry about the details, I will let you know about that."
The kids exchanged glances, still not sure of Chen Ren, but the job seemed simple enough. Taking a final glance at the food stall, the girl nodded, staring right at him. "We can do that. Just don't go back on your words."
***
After a long, exhausting day of crunching numbers and balancing ledgers at the city lord's palace, Scholar Liu Wen emerged from the building, his mind still buzzing with calculations. The sun hung low in the sky, reminding him how long it had been since he walked inside the building. His stomach rumbled loudly, again reminding him that he hadn't had a chance to eat lunch.
He grimaced slightly, rubbing his hand over his belly as he considered grabbing some street food on the way home.
He was young and hadn't gotten the chance to select a bride which meant that if he went home like this, he would have to cook himself. That was the last thing Liu Wen wanted to do right now. All he needed was some good food and a bed to rest to get over the tiredness of the long day.
As he stepped onto the cobblestone street, a shrill voice cut through the crowd.
"Free noodles! Free noodles on Market Street! Try it out today only! Special noodles from the eastern tribes, now available right here in Cloud Mist City. For free!"
Liu Wen turned his head toward the source of the noise and spotted a young boy, his face streaked with dirt and his clothes worn and threadbare. The boy was standing on a crate, shouting with all his might. Despite his apparent shyness, he was doing his best to advertise, his eyes darting nervously over the growing crowd around him.
The scholar adjusted his robes, glancing around at the people who had gathered to watch.
Most of them were locals, their curiosity piqued by the promise of free food. The boy's proclamation had even caught the attention of a few wealthier passersby, their eyes narrowed with interest. Liu Wen's gaze returned to the boy, and he couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy.
Clearly, the child was trying to earn some coin, but the mention of the eastern tribes' cuisine had truly caught his attention.
Liu Wen stroked his beard thoughtfully.
The eastern tribes were a mysterious lot, known for their seclusion and rugged lifestyle that lived east to Kalian Empire.