Chapter 109: Then Convince Me (Please Subscribe)

After cautiously inquiring with Boss Han, Su Dingcai learned that his son truly held a forty-nine percent stake. Overcome with excitement, he couldn’t wait to share this monumental news with his wife.

The supermarket was bustling; toilet paper was sold out, apples gone, and slippers and bedsheets nearly depleted. Su Mu’s mother was swamped, hurriedly pulling stock from the adjacent warehouse and handing it over to other employees to wheel away.

Hearing her husband’s news, she frowned in confusion. “Is it April Fool’s Day? I’m busy and don’t have time for jokes. If you’re free, come help me out. There are still two boxes of Procter & Gamble toothpaste—I can’t figure out where to put them.”

“I’m serious!” Su Dingcai insisted.

Seeing his wife’s disbelief, he nearly leapt up in frustration and lowered his voice. “I asked Boss Han. Our son holds forty-nine percent of the shares—of this very supermarket!”

Having worked here for some time, Su Mu’s mother had heard rumors of Boss Han’s mysterious partner, often guessing it was some wealthy backer unfamiliar with the Chinatown area, which is why he teamed up for the business.

Her movements stiffened as she exclaimed in surprise, “Really? Are you sure the boss said that himself?”

“How many times do I have to tell you? It’s true—absolutely true!”

“That’s impossible. Where would he have gotten the money?”

After a lengthy explanation, Su Mu’s mother finally believed it: their son was indeed one of the owners.

Having worked here for so long, it suddenly dawned on her that she had been employed by a company in which her son had shares. Feeling aggrieved that Su Mu had kept such an important secret from her, her thoughts quickly turned to their newfound wealth—over a hundred thousand dollars suddenly in their pockets—and the booming business with many items already sold out after just half an hour.

A joyful expression lit her face, her posture straightened, and she smiled at Su Dingcai. “Go on, go buy some groceries. We’re running low on stock; I’ll head back to restock. It’s all money, after all!”

Her transformation was swift—the once indifferent worker now sang the song of a freed serf. Originally uncaring about the supermarket’s profits, she now valued it highly, knowing half the earnings belonged to them.

Eager to share his happiness, Su Dingcai lingered, rambling, “Do you think they can make money selling those products so cheaply? Take the toilet paper that’s flying off the shelves—it’s already priced lower than anywhere else, and they’re even doing buy-one-get-one-free.”

“They must be making money. Otherwise, why would Boss Han run this business? It’s not charity,” she replied, though her tone was uncertain. She doubted any significant profit could be made—a limitation of her commercial vision.

As for Su Mu, who co-founded the supermarket with Boss Han, the couple never once considered his role seriously. They instinctively thought he was just lucky, riding on Boss Han’s coattails, and doubted his ability to manage a company.

“Success is mere coincidence; failure is inevitable.” Many parents adopt this phrase as their guiding principle when educating their children.

They believe their teaching is flawless—if their children succeed, it’s their achievement; if they stray, it’s because their children didn’t listen. Both perspectives seem justified.

Living together so long, they assumed they understood their child completely, but due to their unique roles, parents often fail to truly grasp their child’s character.

Take Su Mu, for example. Li Pingan knew this friend was decisive, far calmer than his peers when facing problems, and quick-witted.

Yet, to Su Dingcai and his wife, their son remained a mere schoolboy, clueless and in need of their help.

Already worrying about their son’s business, Su Mu knew his parents’ personalities well. Their concerns last night were reasonable; if unchecked, they would inevitably interfere in the supermarket’s daily operations as shareholders.

A bullfrog stared with tiny eyes, its pupils reflecting Su Mu’s face.

Su Mu crouched by the seafood section, eyeing the bullfrog. Nearby lay alligator snapping turtles, pitifully sold as food at just ninety-nine cents per pound. Few customers wanted to eat them, but many bought one as a pet.

Turbot and silk fish swam in tanks; crayfish clustered together. Freshly arrived, the channel catfish were the most popular among customers.

He enjoyed watching fish and shrimp. He often did so when shopping at the market. Many adventurous customers picked their own fresh ingredients, bagging them to be weighed.

Barcode scanning technology at checkout was still years away; weighing was done manually, prices calculated with a calculator, and the amount written on sealing tape. To prevent tampering, a small stamp was added.

The older women bargained, some asking for extras like green onions or garlic. Staff explained with a resigned smile that prices were already so low there was no profit to spare, so no freebies could be given.

For these ladies, this newly established high-end supermarket was hard to associate with the chaotic, cluttered markets they knew—but most understood the difference.

Shopping at a market was just about buying vegetables, but strolling through a supermarket was different. Customers walked along orderly shelves, admiring the neat displays—it was more an experience to savor.

The queue at the checkout grew rather than diminished. Su Mu wandered from the seafood section to the cashiers and watched customers pay with a deep appreciation for their graceful movements. Examining their baskets, he noticed almost all had more than five items. Even if two were discounted, the other three ensured profit.

If anyone bought only discounted goods, Su Mu accepted that as a loss leader—hoping they’d return next time.

Money Helberg approached, holding up a coconut. “Wonderful. Before, I had to go to a fruit shop to get this. Now I know I can buy it at the supermarket.”

“Su, your company amazes me. It’s like the Walmart our teacher talked about—truly the future of convenience stores. It might even boost nearby real estate prices. So many customers—more than I expected. I wish you prosperity in advance.”

In haste, Su Mu had grabbed just anyone, unsure if Helberg had real value to offer.

If it turned out he was a mediocre “professional manager,” Su Mu planned to find a better person after resolving family matters.

Judging by current sales, it might soon be time to prepare opening a second FunBuy supermarket. Since Su Mu mostly stayed in Silicon Valley, hiring a professional to manage the business was essential.

Turning to Helberg, he said, “You know Walmart? Tell me what’s wrong with this store—that’s your test. Friends are friends, but business is business. You Jewish people often say that—I still haven’t seen what you’re capable of.”

“Of course I know. Do you think I just learned how to chat nonsense with you at Wharton Business School?”

“Then convince me…”