At 35, I was forced to leave my high-paying job at a big tech company. With a decade’s worth of savings, I returned to my small hometown. Tired of the cutthroat corporate world, I just wanted a simple job that wouldn’t fry my brain in this small town. I remembered my biggest dream from sixth grade and decided to fulfill it. I ordered a small food cart and made up my mind to sell french fries outside the elementary school. With my current bank balance, it didn’t matter if I made a loss. It was just for fun anyway. What I didn’t expect was that even in this small town, there were plenty of big fish in a small pond, self-proclaimed bosses everywhere. On my first day selling fries, one of the original vendors pointed at my nose and barked, “Get lost! You’re blocking my spot!” On the second day, a kid threw a tantrum in front of my cart. “Pay up! Your fries made me sick!” On the third day, an even more formidable character showed up… Faced with all this hostility, I couldn’t help but chuckle. Was I supposed to just take this crap everywhere I went? I decided then and there – I was going to keep this fries stand running no matter what! Turning around, I bought all the storefronts along the street in front of the school. And I put up a big sign in front of each – “Private Property, No Vendors Allowed!”
At 6:30 AM, before dawn had fully broken, I had just finished setting up my cart when a pot-bellied middle-aged man approached me. He fished out a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket and offered it to me with a seemingly friendly smile. “Hey buddy, want one?” I hesitated. Was this the famous small-town hospitality I’d heard about? The casual conversation felt oddly comforting. But I don’t smoke, so I politely declined. The man withdrew his hand and leaned against my cart, his tone turning probing. “So, which school staff are you friends with? It’d be good to know!” Friends with school staff? What kind of question was that? I was momentarily confused. I responded politely, “I’m just here to sell some food. Don’t know anyone at the school.” “I see…” The man fell silent for a moment, looking down at the items on my cart. When he looked up again, his friendly smile had been replaced by an unexpected ferocity. “Listen, kid. If you don’t know anyone, why are you trying to steal this spot? Get the hell out of here!” Hearing this, I frowned deeply. Sure, my spot was in a prime location, but this wasn’t some market with assigned stalls. It was first come, first served. Looking at the man’s sudden change in attitude, I coldly replied, “I got here first. Why should I leave?” The middle-aged man laughed as if he’d heard a joke. He banged his fist on my cart, his face menacing. That earlier friendly smile seemed like a figment of my imagination. “This has always been my spot,” he growled. “And I run things around here.” Before I could respond, a crowd suddenly gathered around us. “Everyone thinks they can just waltz in here without knowing their place,” someone sneered. “How dare you try to take this spot without any connections?” another voice chimed in. “Didn’t you hear Marcus tell you to move?” a third person threatened. The crowd pressed closer, looking ready to get physical. Now I understood the man’s earlier question. So they were ganging up on me because I had no connections? I had thought I’d escaped the office politics, but it seemed small towns had their own brand of bullying. Understanding their intentions, I was annoyed but didn’t want to stoop to their level. “So where am I supposed to go?” I asked, trying to keep my cool. Marcus snorted and mockingly pointed behind me. “Over there.” I looked where he was pointing – a secluded corner, blocked from view by other vendors, right next to a public restroom. The anger I had just suppressed bubbled up again. I was about to argue when a wrinkled hand gripped my wrist. It was Old Joe, the elderly vendor next to me. He gave me a knowing look. “Better to swallow your pride than get hurt, son.” I had come here just to experience a simpler life. Not wanting to cause trouble, I tried to calm myself and followed Old Joe to the corner. His stall was nearby too. I asked him, “Does no one stop them from doing this?” Old Joe shook his head and sighed deeply. “Who’s going to stop them? The people in charge are the ones protecting Marcus and his gang.” “If you don’t have power or money, you’d better just stay put in this corner.” “Don’t try to fight them head-on, or you’ll be the one getting hurt.” I looked around and saw a few other small carts scattered in less crowded corners. Seems they had been pushed aside by Marcus’s group too. “Why don’t you all go somewhere else?” I asked, puzzled. Old Joe waved his hand dismissively. “Where isn’t it like this?” With that, he started frying up some donuts. Indeed, where wasn’t it like this? A strange sadness welled up in me as I lowered my head to set up my own cart. But as I looked down, I jumped back two meters in shock. There were several dead cockroaches floating in my frying oil!
The cockroaches had already been fried to a crispy golden brown in the clear hot oil. This was definitely not something I had brought with me. I had checked my cart several times before setting up. There was no way I could have such a hygiene issue. Was it because we were so close to the restroom? Or was there another possibility… I looked up and stared directly at Marcus, who was busy with a crowd of students. As if sensing my gaze, Marcus suddenly turned his head. He raised his eyebrows at me triumphantly. So it was them who did this! Just as I confirmed my suspicion, I saw a vendor to my left seemingly receive a signal from Marcus. The man wiped his hands on his pants and walked straight towards me. Before he even got close, he started shouting. “Oh my god! Your oil is full of cockroaches!” The man’s exclamation immediately drew the attention of parents dropping off their kids. For the first time, this secluded corner became the center of attention. “Holy crap! It’s true, look at those cockroach legs still twitching!” The man pinched his nose and changed his tone. “What kind of person serves such filthy food to children? Who knows what other disgusting things are going on behind the scenes. Maybe he’s even using gutter oil!” “Quick! Take a picture of him! We can’t let this scammer get away with it!” Someone shouted, and suddenly a barrage of camera flashes went off in my face. I quickly shielded my eyes and lifted up my oil container. “This is branded oil, I guarantee I’m not using any gutter oil!” I protested. “The cockroaches in my fryer were put there by someone else on purpose!” My explanation barely managed to quiet the crowd when the man who started the commotion spoke up again. “How do we know you didn’t just put gutter oil in that container? And who would put cockroaches in your fryer? Are you trying to frame someone?” I met the man’s challenging gaze, knowing I had no evidence even though I knew they were behind this. At this moment, Old Joe came over and tried to reason with the instigator. “Come on, Sam, why are you doing this? The young man is just trying to make an honest living.” With a long sigh, Old Joe turned to address the crowd. “Everyone, I can vouch that this young man is not what you think. I’ve been selling here for over a decade. If you trust me, I’ll keep an eye on him for you all…” Old Joe’s words sent a wave of warmth through me. We had only just met as strangers. But before he could finish, Sam cut him off. “Old man, are you looking to quit this job? Or maybe you’re in cahoots with him!” Faced with Sam’s blatant threat, Old Joe’s weathered face turned bright red. I gently pushed Old Joe aside, not wanting the old man to get further involved in this mess. After a brief silence, the observing parents erupted again. “Old Joe, don’t let this guy fool you! I’ve never seen this vendor before when dropping off my kid. He must be some scammer from out of town!” “Young and already so crooked! Kids have delicate stomachs, how could they handle this kind of food?” “My cousin’s child got severe food poisoning from eating at a street stall like this. They couldn’t save him in the end.” “Come on everyone, let’s drive him out of here!” Seeing the crowd pushing towards me and the contaminated oil in my fryer, I knew I wouldn’t be able to continue business on my first day. Under the triumphant gazes of Marcus and his cronies, I pushed away my carefully prepared cart in defeat. Well, well. The same old story. Two weeks ago, I was framed at my company in a similar fashion. A coworker, jealous of my $500,000 annual salary, deliberately sabotaged one of my projects. Luckily I managed to fix it in time before it became a major issue. But by then, I was already tired of office politics, so I didn’t pursue the matter further and let them off the hook. But I’m not one to always turn the other cheek. I can’t keep swallowing my pride everywhere I go. That night, I made a phone call. “Hello, I’d like to buy all the shops on that street.”
Early the next morning, as the sky was just beginning to brighten, I once again pushed my cart to the old spot. In front of my cart, I set up a small blackboard. [Crispy French Fries, Free Today!] There was another reason why Marcus and his gang had bullied me so much yesterday. His cart also sold fries. He wanted to drive me away simply because he was afraid I’d steal his business. If that’s the case, I’ll do exactly that. As I expected, most of the students were drawn by the smell. Soon, my cart was surrounded by people, while Marcus’s prime spot was empty despite its good location. I happened to look up and met his venomous glare. Only Old Joe tugged at my sleeve, his face full of worry. “You’ve really offended them now. Besides, aren’t you losing money like this?” I smiled at Old Joe, assuring him it was fine. What did this bit of money matter? The ones who should be worried might not be me… Just then, Marcus came over, shouting loudly. “Don’t be fooled by his free sign, folks! His food is dirty. You’ll get sick if you eat it!” Marcus’s shout drew more attention. But before he could gloat, he was immediately contradicted by several students. “Mister, don’t lie!” “We know whether these free fries are clean or not!” “Yeah, that’s right!” Several students chimed in agreement. Just as Marcus was at a loss for words, a parent-like figure emerged from the crowd. “Kids, don’t be fooled by bad people!” “Yesterday, I saw with my own eyes, he pulled out a bunch of cockroaches from his fryer!” Seeing yesterday’s “witness”, Marcus regained his confidence. “That’s right, lots of people saw the cockroaches in his fryer yesterday.” “Kids, if you want fries, go buy from the stall up front. It’s guaranteed clean and safe!” At this moment, my untimely chuckle rang out. “If anyone’s worried, you can check the video on my phone. I’ve recorded everything from peeling the potatoes to putting them in cold oil.” “So there’s no need to worry about any hygiene issues.” Hearing this, the students’ faces lit up with bright smiles. Only Marcus still wore a gloomy expression, though a cold smile quickly curved his lips. “Ouch!” A student in the crowd suddenly cried out and fell to the ground. Marcus rushed over to help as if he’d seen his own son fall, asking with concern, “What’s wrong, kid?” The boy clutched his stomach, crying out in pain. “I ate his fries and now my stomach hurts!” The boy pointed at me while still holding his stomach. The crowd was shocked by the boy’s condition and started accusing me. “See? I told you his food wasn’t clean!” “Heartless beast! Shame on you!” “The kid’s stomach is ruined. Let’s see how you handle this.” While the crowd was in an uproar, I remained calm. From my angle, I could see the boy’s performance was quite amateur. I smiled and walked towards the boy, noticing a flash of panic cross his face. “As it happens, I used to study medicine. Let me take a look.” Without letting the boy struggle free, I quickly pinched the pressure point between his thumb and index finger. Feeling the sudden pain, the boy let out a yelp and sprang to his feet. “What’s this? Not hurting anymore?” I asked coldly, my gaze fixed on Marcus’s increasingly dark expression. “You hurt the young master. You’re gonna pay for this, kid,” Marcus growled. “If I let you keep your stall running, I’ll change my name! Let’s see how long you can keep giving out free food!” After throwing out these threats, Marcus left with the boy. As the crowd dispersed, Old Joe spoke to me earnestly. “Young man, you’d better find a different spot tomorrow.” I guessed and asked, “Is this ‘young master’ Marcus mentioned the child of some big shot at the school?” Old Joe sighed deeply and nodded at me. But no matter how big a shot they were, so what? I looked around at the row of storefronts near the school entrance. It really was quite a prime location…
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