Chapter 235 - 107: Slowly, Slowly (Part 2)

Chapter 235: Chapter 107: Slowly, Slowly (Part 2)

He found a table and sat down, rubbing his hands together. Just as his fingers were finally starting to regain some feeling, he realized the owner hadn’t responded in a while.

Zhang Shutong had no choice but to get up and call out into the back kitchen. The owner was stir-frying something. Seeing no other customers around, Zhang Shutong figured he was probably making his own dinner.

"One order of shredded pork with green peppers."

Zhang Shutong shouted, raising his voice over the WHOOSHING of the range hood.

"We’re out!" the owner’s voice boomed, even louder than his.

"What?"

"I said, we’re out of ingredients!"

Zhang Shutong froze. ’If you’re out of everything, what’s the point of even being open?’ he thought. ’Did you just want to cook a dish for yourself and lure me in with the smell?’

He nodded and turned to leave, but the owner had a habit of pausing for dramatic effect. He bellowed again:

"You want the sweet and sour pork or not?"

"Didn’t you say you were out of ingredients?"

"The pork was fried yesterday!" the owner hollered back. "If you want it, I can toss it back in the wok, coat it in some sweet and sour sauce, and it’ll be ready to serve. It just won’t be very crispy. What do you say?"

’Yeah, that’s not going to work.’

’Day-old fried food wouldn’t just be "not very crispy"—it wouldn’t be crispy at all.’

Besides, Zhang Shutong couldn’t stand soggy food. Even though he knew some people actually preferred it that way, and even though he wasn’t a picky eater by any means, he really didn’t want to settle tonight. It wasn’t as if he had to rush off to save someone’s life—why should he force himself to eat something he disliked?

He gave a wave and walked out of the restaurant. A chill ran through him; he hadn’t even had a chance to warm up. He decided to leave his motorcycle where it was, instead just stuffing his hands in his pockets and wandering around to see if he could find a restaurant more to his liking.

But before he even had a chance to warm his hands, his phone rang. He sighed and hit the answer key.

It was a call from Ruoping.

"Are you still at the villa?"

"I came back a while ago."

"Oh? And you felt fine leaving Gu Qiumian there all by herself?" the young woman teased.

"I forgot to tell you guys. Her dad came back with a whole crew of people, so I left..."

But before he could finish, he heard Qingyi’s voice cutting in:

"A true man must be willing to risk life and limb to protect what he cherishes! So don’t be so hard on Shutong..."

Zhang Shutong was taken aback. ’Dude, where did you come from?’ he thought. ’And what does that have to do with me? I’ve been back for a while, I’m just wandering the streets right now! That speech would be more fitting for Boss Gu; he’s the one who took a risk and flew back to be with his daughter.’

As it turned out, Qingyi simply hadn’t heard properly. He yelped as Ruoping grabbed his ear, her voice frantic.

"We’re talking about something important! Stop butting in with your cringey one-liners! Seriously, what cheesy novel did you pull a line that childish from?"

"I came up with it myself," Qingyi said, completely baffled. "Isn’t Shutong still at the villa with Gu Qiumian?"

"He came back ages ago. Her old man is here..."

Zhang Shutong listened for a few more seconds and realized the three of them were having dinner together.

Their food had just arrived, and they were asking if he wanted to join them. He didn’t get his hopes up; they probably assumed he was still at the villa, mooching a free dinner there.

"So you did all that for nothing, huh?" The background noise faded; Qingyi had apparently been shooed away, leaving only Ruoping speaking in a low voice.

Zhang Shutong could tell she felt indignant on his behalf:

"It wasn’t a complete waste. At least I found those footprints and gave her dad a heads-up. He won’t let his guard down this time."

"So, are you coming for dinner or not?"

"I think... I’ll pass."

Zhang Shutong glanced around instinctively.

He had already walked a full block, but it seemed like it just wasn’t his day. Not a single restaurant was open, which meant he might have to go back for that damn sweet and sour pork.

"I’ve still got some things to do tonight," Zhang Shutong added. "You guys go ahead and eat."

The hand holding the phone was getting cold, so he pulled his other hand from his pocket and switched them.

"You’re still not giving up? Is this about Gu Qiumian again?" Ruoping asked in surprise.

Zhang Shutong nodded.

He nodded, then realized she couldn’t see him over the phone.

So he said:

"Sort of. But I’m not deliberately hiding anything from you this time. It’s really not important, I’m just looking for some nearby security cameras..."

"So it is a kidnapping?" Qingyi’s voice was suddenly close again. "Need any help?"

"Of course not," Zhang Shutong said with a dry laugh. ’At this point, why would I try to get her to leave the villa?’

"Then you’re just in a bad mood and taking a walk to clear your head?" Ruoping asked.

"Nah, I’ll finish this up and head home to bed," Zhang Shutong said, stifling a yawn. "I’m so tired."

"Alright, see you tomorrow."

"Yeah, see you tomorrow."

The call ended. Now he had to head back to that little restaurant.

The street was quiet, the lamps stretching his shadow long before him. Zhang Shutong kicked a loose pebble out of boredom. Even though it wasn’t a huge deal, he didn’t want to waste much more time on this.

He arrived back at the restaurant. The whir of the range hood had stopped. Steeling himself, Zhang Shutong pushed aside the door flap. He shouldn’t have made such a cool exit earlier, only to come slinking back with his tail between his legs.

He told the owner he’d take an order of the sweet and sour pork. The owner was sitting at a table in the dining area, a phone propped up in front of him as he furiously shoveled rice from a disposable cup. He waved his chopsticks at the words.

"All gone."

"All gone?" Zhang Shutong blinked innocently.

"I only steamed this much rice for the evening," the owner replied, looking even more innocent as he held up the cup. "You said you didn’t want any, so I dished it all out for myself."

Zhang Shutong was speechless. He caught himself just before resorting to an old habit—biting the inside of his cheek. He managed to restrain the urge, deciding to spare himself this time. ’I already can’t get any pork,’ he thought. ’Wouldn’t it be even more pathetic to start chewing on my own cheek?’