Chapter 17: Buying Chicken Frames in Bulk

The main reason for going to the county town was to buy clothes. Though it was a small county, it still had plenty of good food and, more importantly, relatively low prices. High-end clothes costing over a thousand yuan were available, but it was much easier to find decent ones for a few hundred.

After a stroll around the mall, they managed to get clothes for both parents, spending less than 500 yuan in total. Both were quite satisfied.

Bai Ye insisted on paying, and his parents didn't argue. The shop assistant nearby kept complimenting Jiang Lan for having such a good son, making her beam with pride.

Bai Ye originally planned to make do with his old clothes, but Jiang Lan had other thoughts.

In their area, people started dating young. Their family conditions weren't great, so Bai Ye hadn't found a suitable partner yet. Jiang Lan figured if her son wore something nice, maybe someone would take a liking to him when they went visiting during New Year.

Luckily, Bai Ye guessed her intention and quickly bought a discounted down jacket for 188 yuan. It was actually pretty thick and warm.

Bai An'an picked out a red outfit, a matching top and bottom set that resembled sportswear material. It was soft and comfortable.

It was quite affordable too—just over 100 yuan. Bai Ye wanted to get her something better, but Bai An'an refused.

"Bro, look at your little sis! I wear this 100-yuan outfit and still look like I'm wearing a luxury brand!" she said proudly. "No need to waste money. When you're really earning big, then you can get me the good stuff!"

"Alright!" Bai Ye grinned, throwing an arm over her shoulder. "I'll buy you the best one day."

The trip wasn't in vain. Since it took two hours round trip, Jiang Lan suggested they stop by the local market in the county town.

At that moment, Bai Ye suddenly remembered—there was a chicken processing plant in the county that sold super cheap chicken frames.

He quickly suggested they go, and both his parents agreed.

Bai An'an didn't care either way. Bai Ye bought her two bags of spicy snacks and she happily tagged along.

On the way, they passed a repair shop. Bai Ye pulled over and spoke with the owner. Soon a technician came out to check the vehicle.

"What's this about?" Jiang Lan asked, puzzled. "Bai Ye, is the car broken?"

"Nope. I asked the guy to install two seats in the back," Bai Ye explained and told them to get out of the vehicle for a moment.

Jiang Lan initially thought it was a waste of money—after all, using small stools wasn't that troublesome.

But once the seats were installed and they sat down, she stopped complaining.

The two second-hand car seats cost 230 yuan. Though used, they were clean and a huge upgrade in comfort from the stools.

After settling the bill, they headed straight to the chicken frame wholesaler.

In the northeast, chicken frames were practically a cultural staple.

Back in the 1990s, during the wave of factory layoffs, many industrial workers lost their jobs. That's when large-scale poultry farming began. While the whole chickens were exported or sold elsewhere, they were processed locally—legs, wings, heads, necks, breasts were all removed, leaving behind the "frame."

Despite the name, these frames still had bits of meat on them and were a cherished protein source for many families back then. Many evenings, a single chicken frame was the only meat dish on the table.

Even now, chicken frames remained a beloved delicacy.

There were countless ways to prepare them—fried, grilled, on iron plates, or braised in sauce. Most people just stir-fried them at home.

In their county, many restaurant owners came to buy these in bulk. The factory only sold full boxes—not for individual household use.

Bai Ye soon learned that not all chicken frames were created equal.

The smaller ones were only 2.5 yuan per jin (500g), and while cheap, Bai Ye frowned at the sight—too little meat, not suitable for braising.

There were even worse ones, apparently.

He asked to see the 4 yuan per jin variety, and it was a noticeable upgrade—larger frames with more meat left on them.

The 4-yuan frames came in boxes of 56 jin, with a bulk discount for orders of 100 boxes.

Bai Ye's eyes lit up. "What counts as bulk?"

The vendor replied, "One hundred boxes."

That instantly killed Bai Ye's excitement—100 boxes meant over 1,000 jin of meat. Their big pot at home couldn't even handle that.

Speaking of which, he still needed to buy a new giant cooking pot. He'd brought back a huge stainless steel soup pot, nearly a meter tall, but it was old and lacked a lid. Rather than hunt for a lid that fit, buying a new one made more sense.

So Bai Ye bought ten boxes of the 4-yuan chicken frames—several hundred yuan gone in a flash.

Then they wandered through the market again and spent a few hundred more on a double-layered insulated soup pot.

By the time they were done, Bai Ye's account balance had dipped below 1,000 yuan.

But he wasn't worried. With the secret recipe gifted by the system, he believed he'd be making serious money soon.

When they got home, the sky had already turned dark.

It was close to New Year's, and sunset came early—around 5 PM.

As soon as they stepped in, the father and son duo didn't rest—they started prepping the meat.

Thankfully, they'd already asked the butcher to divide the meat by part. All they needed to do now was boil off the hair and clean the organs.

Jiang Lan helped clean the new pot so the guys could use it right away.

The new pot could hold much more than the old metal one, which could barely fit a few dozen jin of meat and left only a shallow layer of broth after cooking.

While helping out, the father mused, "Should I tear down the southern stove and rebuild it to fit this pot?"

Before he could finish, Bai An'an excitedly raised her hands. "Yes, yes! Then I won't need to use my electric blanket anymore!"

Bai An'an lived in the east room next to her parents, and the kitchen stove in the south room wasn't used much—only in summer to avoid overheating the main house. In those times, she'd sleep in the west room, no problem.

"True! If we cook with the south stove every night, An'an won't need to use her electric blanket. That saves money," Bai Ye laughed.

"Yeah, saves tons!" Bai An'an chimed in.

Jiang Lan and Bai's father chuckled at their kids' antics. "What do you guys want for dinner?"

"Mom, there's still a hind leg. Let's heat that up. And make a couple dishes with the veggies we bought."

"Sure." Jiang Lan went to cook. Meanwhile, Bai An'an pulled up a small stool to watch her brother toss the meat into the pot and prepare the seasoning bundle for the braised meat.

Braised meat needed a rich, seasoned broth that got better with time. But it wasn't a one-time deal—you still had to add new water and a fresh spice pack every day.

So Bai Ye had pre-portioned his spices last night—12 packets in total, enough to get them through the New Year.

The only issue was the Muxiang (costus root) he needed to buy online.

"What are you buying, bro?" Bai An'an peered over. "Isn't that just the branch you dragged home the other day? You're buying more?"

"Of course I am," Bai Ye said, preparing to order online.

"Why don't we just go up the mountain and pick some?" Bai An'an suggested. "I'll bring some friends. We'll all go!"

Bai Ye's eyes lit up. With only a thousand yuan left, getting it for free sounded like a great idea.