Chapter 12 – The Cheese Conspiracy
The trouble began on a Tuesday, because disasters in Li Ming's life always preferred weekdays.
Manager Zhao came in with the look of a man delivering bad news to a warlord.
"Boss… we have a serious problem."
Li Ming groaned. "Is this about bread again? I swear if one more carb ruins my day—"
"It's cheese," Zhao said.
Li Ming froze mid-grumble. "Cheese?"
"Our mozzarella supplier's factory got shut down. Government inspection. Apparently they failed some food safety audit—rat droppings in the storage area, missing paperwork, something about using expired milk powder…" Zhao trailed off, grimacing.
Li Ming rubbed his temples. "Let me guess: no one else in the province makes the same type of cheese."
"Exactly. The closest supplier is three provinces away, and their shipping fees alone will cost more than the cheese."
Li Ming's first instinct was to outsource and swallow the cost. After all, losing money was the goal. But then Zhao added:
"Oh, and our competitors—those Western fast food chains—are suddenly buying up all the good mozzarella. If they get exclusive supply contracts, our pizzas and pastas will be… cheese-less."
That was a problem. Even Li Ming knew a cheese-less pizza was basically an edible insult.
That afternoon, Li Ming drove to the shuttered factory. The gates were locked, a red "SEIZED" notice slapped across them like a scarlet letter. The workers were milling about outside, unemployed and angry.
One of them, a woman in her forties with arms like rolling pins, recognized him from the restaurant ads.
"Boss Li! You should buy the factory. We can start again—fresh equipment, better wages. We'll make the best cheese in the province!"
Li Ming hesitated. Buying a failed cheese factory was exactly the kind of reckless move that could hemorrhage cash… but also exactly the kind of thing that could turn into an accidental gold mine if he wasn't careful.
Three weeks later, the deal was done. Li Ming had "accidentally" outbid a rival by nearly double the asking price, then poured even more into European stainless-steel vats, Italian curdling machines, and an on-site testing lab that looked like it belonged to NASA.
"Boss," Zhao said, inspecting the new facility, "with this setup, we could easily produce enough cheese for every restaurant in the province."
"That's… not what I wanted to hear," Li Ming muttered.
"Should I start drafting contracts for external sales?"
"Absolutely not. We'll only supply ourselves. And maybe give the excess away to street cats."
Of course, it didn't go that way.
The bread trucks were now carrying cheese alongside sauce, "just for efficiency."
His Italian restaurant's quality shot through the roof, drawing in even more customers.
And worst of all—several small pizzerias started begging him for supply.
Li Ming knew he should say no. But if he priced the cheese too high to scare them off, the System would count it as "failed sales performance" and slap him with penalties.
And just like that, the bakery, sauce plant, and cheese factory were now moving in unison—a small but undeniable provincial supply chain.