He Yuzhu returns in Siheyuan

Chapter 758 Li Chuan Completes the Mission

Li Chuan didn't say another word. He turned and strode out, his shiny leather shoes clacking against the concrete floor with a resolute, impatient clatter. He'd already made up his mind: the money he needed to pay had already been spent. He'd just have to vaguely tell his superiors he was still keeping an eye on He Yuzhu, and make up something like, "He's acting cautiously, nothing unusual at the moment." Why waste time waiting here? Less is better; a more peaceful and comfortable life is better.

Zhang Qi saw Li Chuan disappear around the corner, then he slowly stood up from the wall, brushed off the dust on his pants, and said to He Yao beside him: "Okay, there's nothing for us to do here, let's go."

He Yao nodded, his face expressionless, and without asking any further questions, he simply followed Zhang Qi out silently. Their steps were brisk, and they were both obviously happy to get out of this boring job as soon as possible.

Liu Qi stood alone, watching the two retreating figures, his heart pounding with astonishment. These two men had secured their place in the underworld not simply through their eloquence, but also through their own hidden talents—those difficult matters that couldn't be publicly addressed, when entrusted to them, always managed to handle them flawlessly. No wonder the higher-ups gave them a bit of extra respect. He rubbed the back of his head, still unable to figure out what deity he had offended to attract these two's personal attack. But now that the storm had subsided, it was better to enjoy a few days of peace and quiet, and stop worrying about these useless things.

What Liu Qi didn't know was that He Yuzhu had already seen everything, his mind as clear as a mirror. He sat by the window, his fingertips twisting the lid of his teacup, gently scraping away the foam, his eyes as deep as a bottomless pool. Those two unidentified cultivators dared to so brazenly target him; they must have someone behind them, and this wasn't a spur-of-the-moment move. Since they dared to harbor such evil intentions, don't blame me for being rude.

He Yuzhu had been doing business in the north for years, and his network of contacts had spread like a spider web, with acquaintances from all walks of life. Even in the south, he had made many reliable friends who could speak up and help him in critical moments. He set down his teacup, and the bottom of the cup hit the table with a crisp sound. He had already made a plan in mind: he had to ask someone to investigate as soon as possible to find out who was behind this and which faction it was, so that he could make plans and avoid being on the defensive.

Afterwards, He Yuzhu paid for his tea and headed straight for the Old Taste Restaurant on the corner. Shortly after he sat down at the window table, he said to the waiter who came over to refill his tea, "Please let me know, I need to see your boss."

He was very familiar with the layout of this restaurant - there were several 8-person tables at the entrance for individual customers to sit; the seats near the window were separated into elegant seats, which were quieter; the chimney in the back kitchen extended obliquely into the alley, emitting a faint blue smoke. It was obvious that it was run according to the old rules, and there was a sense of homeliness and intimacy everywhere.

The waiter looked He Yuzhu up and down. Seeing that he was wearing a well-fitting Mao suit, with neatly combed hair and a calm demeanor, he didn't look like someone looking for trouble. He nodded quickly and said, "Please wait a moment. I'll go get our boss."

After a while, a middle-aged man in a white apron and a blue headscarf walked over quickly, a puzzled look on his face. He had initially thought the customer had a problem with the food, but when he saw He Yuzhu's face, his eyes lit up, and he quickened his pace. He walked over to him, his tone filled with a bit of uncontrollable excitement: "Master, what are you doing here?"

As soon as he said that, he felt that it was inappropriate. Calling him "Master" in public would inevitably attract attention. He quickly changed his words and put on a simple smile on his face: "Look at my mouth, I deserve a beating. Sir, why didn't you tell me in advance that you were coming? I could have come to pick you up."

He Yuzhu looked at him frantically, scratching his head and bowing, and couldn't help but smile: "I was just passing by and came to see you. Your restaurant seems to be doing well, and there are quite a few customers."

The restaurant's owner, Chen Daqi, was a true southerner. Early in his life, his hometown suffered a disaster, leaving his crops barren. Unable to make ends meet, he fled north. He still remembers arriving north, penniless and starving for three days. He squatted at the factory gate, dizzy and limp, unable even to stand. He happened to meet He Yuzhu, who was leaving get off work. Unable to resist, he trudged over, holding out his withered hand, hoping for a steamed bun.

At the time, He Yuzhu was still working at the steel mill. One day, during his lunch break, he ran into Chen Daqi, huddled in a corner at the factory gate. He looked sallow and thin, his eyes sunken, as if he hadn't eaten in days and could fall over at the slightest gust of wind. Although He Yuzhu usually looked down on those who cheated and played dirty, seeing someone starving to death, his heart softened. Without saying much, he fished a few crumpled bills from his pocket and handed them over. He then stuffed his lunch—two white flour buns and a plate of stir-fried vegetables—into Chen Daqi's arms.

Chen Daqi held the hot steamed bun in his hands, tears welling up in his eyes. He wolfed down a few mouthfuls before choking back his thanks: "Brother, you are such a good person. I will remember your kindness all my life." Later, while chatting, he learned that He Yuzhu was the chef in the factory cafeteria, and his cooking skills were well-known for miles around. His eyes lit up, and he immediately knelt down: "Brother, I want to learn cooking from you. Please accept me as your apprentice! I am strong and can endure hardships!"

He Yuzhu was stunned for a moment, and quickly helped him up. But he was good at northern cuisine, and was good at stir-frying, deep-frying, and braised meats, but he really didn't know much about southern cuisine. Chen Daqi was from the south, spoke with a soft accent, and always had an obsession with the food from his hometown. He Yuzhu pondered for a few days and remembered that he had an old friend who had worked in a southern restaurant in his early years and was an authentic southern chef. So he introduced Chen Daqi to the restaurant and specifically told his old friend: "This kid is not easy, you should take the trouble to take care of him."

Chen Daqi was determined to learn from his master, diligently practicing knife skills and heat control. Within two years, he had mastered the essence of southern cuisine. However, before he could truly become an apprentice, his master died of illness. Chen Daqi, with tears in his eyes, approached He Yuzhu and kowtowed three times: "Master, I want to go back to the south. With this skill, I will make a name for myself in the future and will never let you and Master down!"

He Yuzhu looked at the tenacity in his eyes and nodded: "Go ahead, you're a good material. Work hard in the south."