stjorthotic Chapter 33 Ah Han's Grand Plan
Chapter 33 Ah Han's Grand Plan
An even bolder plan?
After listening to Ah Han's words, Lin Ximeng thought for a moment and then made a guess: "Do you think that developing online shopping for poor streets can make money, and you want to do a few more orders like that?"
Ah Han nodded vigorously, unable to hide his excitement: "Yes, that's exactly what I mean. I've noticed that although the poor neighborhood is full of homeless people, some of them seem to be quite wealthy."
Lin Ximeng nodded, based on his conversations with the campers, especially Riley, over this period of time.
In the long run, homeless people will definitely not have much money, but in the short term, each of them actually has some spare money.
After all, collecting cans every day can earn you ten or twenty dollars.
However, homeless people usually spend money much faster than they earn it.
The days of being homeless are too painful, and there is no hope for the future.
Many people will immediately go to a gang to buy some leaves after they have made a little money.
So in the end, the homeless are always penniless.
Given this situation, it's unlikely that Ah Han will be able to make money off these people.
The only ones who can have extra money are those who take a cut from the homeless population at the bottom of society, such as homeless groups like the Black Penguin Group in 7th Street.
"Are you trying to make money off large homeless groups?" Simon Lin asked.
"Yes, it's them," Ah Han said, his voice filled with excitement at discovering a business opportunity.
"Especially those large-scale homeless groups with leaders, they are actually quite wealthy, more so than many people who do odd jobs."
According to Ah Han, in today's era where e-commerce has become widespread, only Qiongjie has long been out of touch with the world, maintaining the most primitive offline transactions.
He, Ah Han, wants to break this status quo.
"Even homeless people have online shopping needs! Who wouldn't want to stay comfortably in their own camp and buy the beer and snacks they want without leaving the camp?"
Simon Lin asked, "Homeless people need real price discounts, can you provide that?"
As Lin Ximeng continued to question him, Ahan revealed more details of the plan.
He plans to offer discounts on orders placed from poor neighborhoods.
If homeless people place an order totaling more than $300, the unit price of the goods will be 10% to 20% cheaper than the market price after discounts.
Ah Han confidently stated, "I'll specialize in serving homeless customers, and only our Red Blue Supermarket can do that."
According to Ah Han's explanation, the key to this business is being able to transport goods to the poor street and bring back the final payment.
Others can't do business with the homeless because they can't grasp this crucial point.
"But we at Honglanzi are different. I have you! You're capable and reliable. You can definitely handle these two things, and our business is secure."
Ah Han grabbed Lin Ximeng's hand, his eyes shining as if he were looking at a mountain of gold.
"Sounds good, I'll wait for your reply."
After listening, Lin Ximeng nodded slowly.
In Lin Ximeng's view, Ah Han's plan was too idealistic, and many problems would inevitably arise when it was put into practice.
However, it is indeed feasible in the general direction.
As his partner, I don't need to worry about troublesome issues such as warehousing, procurement, and capital cycles.
All you need to do is ensure the "last mile" delivery, safely delivering the order to its destination and bringing back the final payment.
For me, it's a win-win situation.
"But they are homeless people after all, so large orders won't come in waves. The pace of this business can't be fast; we can only take it slow."
Lin Ximeng had a better understanding of the homeless people in the poor streets, so he wasn't in a hurry. He said to Ah Han, "I wish you a speedy rise to become the father of e-commerce for the homeless on the West Coast. Good luck with your new business."
Ah Han was delighted by Lin Ximeng's praise, his mind filled with wonderful daydreams about the future.
Lin Ximeng didn't linger any longer. He waved to him and then turned and left the supermarket.
When Lin Ximeng arrived on the street, he took out his phone and checked the time; the hour hand was pointing to twelve o'clock.
It's lunchtime!
He casually contacted Riley, Gloria, and others, sending them a message asking, "Are there any reliable places to pick up lunch at noon?"
I received a reply on my phone shortly afterward.
Riley recommended the church on the corner of Zitinglang Street, saying there was a free lunch today, which was all bland potatoes but filling.
Gloria complained that the food at the community center was dry and tough.
Lin Ximeng glanced at the replies, clicked his tongue, and gave up the idea of going to collect the welfare meal.
He took out the cash from his pocket and counted it: $353.7 left over from yesterday, plus the loose $10 from before, plus the $100 in freight fees he earned today.
Lin Simon now has a total of $463.7 in cash on him.
This is a number that defies the imagination of homeless people!
Lin Ximeng himself was a little surprised. Just a few days ago, he couldn't even scrape together $100 and didn't dare to eat a proper meal. He never expected that he would almost have $500 in just a few days!
The speed at which homeless people make money is terrifying!
Just as I was wondering whether I should treat myself to a nice lunch, a rich aroma of meat mixed with the smoky scent of onions suddenly wafted into my nostrils, making my mouth water.
Lin Ximeng turned his head following the aroma and immediately recognized the bright yellow Mexican hot dog truck on the street corner.
It was the same restaurant he had eaten at yesterday; he never expected to run into it again even though the stall had changed locations.
Lin Ximeng smacked his lips, recalling the taste: the sausage, crispy on the outside and tender on the inside, coated in sweet and sour salad dressing. The taste wasn't amazing, but it was enough to satisfy his cravings.
Thinking of this, Lin Ximeng walked over and joined the queue.
The line wasn't long, with only two or three people ahead of him, and it only took a few minutes for it to be his turn.
"Boss, why are you doing business here today?"
Lin Ximeng casually struck up a conversation with the owner who was turning over the sausages.
The boss, a bearded Mexican man, skillfully flipped a sizzling hot dog with tongs while shrugging helplessly and complaining, "Don't even mention it. The factory I used to work at is in complete chaos today! The union is leading a strike, saying it's related to some kind of tariff or trade war. Nobody's working at the factory today, it's closed. I had no choice but to move here to try my luck."
Lin Ximeng nodded knowingly, determined to reward himself, and said, "One hot dog, and three sausages."
"Three portions of sausage?"
The hot dog stand owner was slightly taken aback. His main customers were usually factory workers and dockworkers.
In Los Angeles, they are definitely considered low-income.
Most people order the standard $4.9 hot dog combo, and very few people ask for an extra hot dog sausage.
Not to mention it's tripled, three hot dogs at a time.
The hot dog stand owner couldn't help but look at Lin Simon with curiosity: his clothes looked like they were from a second-hand store, and his shoes weren't designer brands either.
Why does he look like a homeless person?
"Three sausages would be $12.99, are you sure?" the hot dog stand owner asked hesitantly.
"certainly."
Lin Ximeng smiled slightly, took out a $10 bill and three $1 bills, and placed them on the table.
"Okay, okay, please wait a moment, it will be ready soon."
The hot dog stand owner took the cash, gave Simon Lin a penny in change, and immediately started making the hot dogs with a beaming smile, thinking to himself:
"Wow, homeless people are so rich! I should have set up a stall in the poor neighborhood."
Behind Lin Ximeng in line was a middle-aged man with a child, wearing a plaid shirt, his neck slightly red.
The child stared intently at the three hot dogs on the grill, drool dripping from the corner of his mouth. He tugged at the middle-aged man's sleeve, "Daddy, I want some..."
The middle-aged man reacted quickly, covering his precious little mouth with his hand and shaking his head: "No, you don't want to."
The man's eyes revealed helplessness: he was a worker at the factory that had closed down, and he couldn't afford these three sausages!
......
Lin Simon finished his hot dog in a few bites, wiped the sauce and grease from the corners of his mouth, and headed towards the intersection of Maple Street and Oak Lane according to the [Daily Intelligence].
"Mountain bike, here I come!"
Just as Simon crossed two streets and turned into a quiet alleyway piled with discarded cardboard boxes, he heard footsteps following behind him.
"You came over right after I finished eating? Perfect timing, I'll get some exercise after the meal."
Lin Ximeng didn't stop walking; instead, he deliberately slowed down. When he reached a right-angle corner, he suddenly accelerated and dodged behind the wall.
As expected, the follower didn't notice anything amiss and kept chasing after him. Just as he turned the corner, Lin Ximeng raised his hand and delivered a straight punch, which landed squarely on the other man's nose.
"Awooo—!"
The other person, in pain, clutched their nose and squatted on the ground, blood instantly soaking between their fingers. They cried out incoherently, begging for mercy: "Stop hitting me! Stop hitting me! I'm one of you! I'm one of you!"
Lin Ximeng frowned and looked closely, only to find that the one rolling on the ground and howling was the red-haired man with the earring who had helped him catch the stray cat before.
"Is it you?"
He was puzzled: Why did this kid follow me? Could it be that he's addicted to getting beaten up?
Why are you following me?
As he spoke, Lin Ximeng deliberately raised his hand, making a gesture as if he was about to fight again.
The red-haired man with the earring shrank back in fright, clutching his still-bleeding nose tightly, and hurriedly waved his hands, shouting, "Don't hit me! Don't hit me! I really didn't mean any harm!"
He took a breath, his voice muffled and urgent: "I'm here to deliver a message to you. Someone's watching you, and I'm worried something might happen to you, so I came with you to warn you."