Chapter 30
Chapter 30: Peach Blossoms Everywhere
Her thoughts drifted back.
Last summer, right after she graduated college, Xiao Ying Chun was hit with news that shattered her life: her parents had been in a car accident. Both were in critical condition.
She rushed home, emptied her savings, borrowed from every relative she could reach, and still couldn’t save them.
After the funeral, she handed the supermarket over to her aunt and went straight back to Hai Cheng to look for work.
She interviewed at a few places, landed the job she’d been aiming for, and ended up under Liu Wei Min, the marketing director.
Liu Wei Min was a textbook phoenix man—someone who clawed his way up from the countryside and carried his whole family on his back.
He had a younger brother in college. From his first day on the job, he paid his brother’s tuition and covered his parents’ medical bills and living expenses.
Which meant he had no house, no car, and as he neared thirty, no girlfriend and no marriage prospects.
So he fought like his life depended on it.
To his superiors, he bowed and flattered until it turned slick and greasy.
To his subordinates, he squeezed and bullied, taking whatever advantage he could.
More than one female subordinate had dealt with his harassment. He wasn’t trying to date them. He just wanted to take.
And when it came to finding a partner, he set his sights high—someone richer than him, someone who could bring in more money than him.
Rumor said he once tried to pursue the marketing director in another district. She was outstanding in every way and never gave him a chance.
He even chased the vice president. Same result.
Xiao Ying Chun couldn’t understand it. A man whose eyes held nothing but money and power—why would he travel all the way from Hai Cheng to confess to her here?
Did he somehow know her secret—that she was making a hundred million a day?
No. Impossible.
So it had to be something else.
She thought it over, dug up an old coworker on WeChat, and asked about Liu Wei Min as tactfully as she could.
The coworker didn’t know much. They only said Liu Wei Min had taken annual leave a few days ago, claiming he had something to handle.
Xiao Ying Chun couldn’t make sense of it. And she refused to waste more brainpower on him. Someone like that wasn’t worth it.
Dinner crept up on her. She was scrolling Meituan to order takeout when Grandpa Zhao suddenly pushed the door open and walked in.
“Little Ying Chun,” he said warmly, “you haven’t had dinner yet, have you?”
Xiao Ying Chun saw Zhao Ji Ping and greeted him with a smile. “Grandpa Zhao, not yet. Why are you here? Out of soy sauce? Or vinegar?”
Zhao Ji Ping waved a hand. “We’ve got both. I’m here to tell you—don’t order takeout. I’ll bring you food in a bit.”
Xiao Ying Chun shot to her feet, startled. “No, no! I’m fine. I can eat anything. Please don’t trouble yourself!”
“How is that trouble?” Zhao Ji Ping looked at her like she was being ridiculous. “I heard Little Xin say you two are doing business together. That makes you one of us.”
He barreled right over her protest. “Takeout isn’t good if you eat it all the time. And I don’t like cooking for just myself. I’ll make a little extra—consider it you doing me a favor.”
He spoke like the decision was already made and turned to leave.
Xiao Ying Chun panicked. “Really, there’s no need! I already ordered. Garlic split prawns.”
Zhao Ji Ping stopped short.
His family had only stewed a chicken today. No seafood, no extras—nothing that could compete with that.
Xiao Ying Chun walked him out, smiling. “Thank you, Grandpa Zhao. It’s just me. Sometimes I eat something simple and call it a day. You really don’t need to worry.”
Zhao Ji Ping sighed, half amused, half helpless. “You young lady… eating whenever you remember. You’ve been busy lately, so maybe…”
Then he made his own choice anyway. “I’ll bring you some matsutake stewed chicken in a bit. Just treat it as an extra dish.”
With that, he practically fled, like he was afraid she’d catch him and force the bowl back into his hands.
Xiao Ying Chun hadn’t even meant to order shrimp in the first place. Now she had to—or she’d get caught in her own lie.
She ordered garlic split prawns and a side of greens. When Zhao Ji Ping arrived with the chicken soup, her takeout showed up at the same time, perfectly timed for her to start eating.
Zhao Ji Ping had clearly already eaten. He set down a full bowl of matsutake stewed chicken on her little table and urged, bright-eyed, “Try it.”
Xiao Ying Chun smiled awkwardly, thanked him, and even fetched him a bowl and chopsticks. “Have some shrimp too.”
He didn’t refuse. He ate two—just enough to be polite—then sat back, smiling as he watched her.
The look in his eyes was pure, doting affection, the kind a grandpa used to inspect his future granddaughter-in-law. Xiao Ying Chun suddenly couldn’t taste a thing.
Seriously. Who could eat under that gaze?
When Zhao Ji Ping finally left, Xiao Ying Chun messaged Dai Heng Xin immediately.
“You. What exactly did you tell your grandfather?”
Dai Heng Xin replied, “???”
“He brought me matsutake stewed chicken today!”
A moment later, a flood of laughter came through—messages and stickers one after another.
“He definitely misunderstood,” Dai Heng Xin finally wrote. “He thinks you’re my girlfriend.”
Xiao Ying Chun nearly begged. “Big Brother, I’m begging you. Can you tell your grandfather to stop bringing me chicken soup? I’m so embarrassed!”
“I was so mortified my toes nearly dug a three-bedroom condo into the floor.”
“I couldn’t taste a thing the whole time!”
More laughing. Then, at last: “No problem.”
A beat later: “Sorry. My grandfather is too enthusiastic. He caused you trouble.”
“Forget it,” Xiao Ying Chun replied. “I’m not going to argue with an elder…”
After that, she wasn’t in the mood to keep the shop open. She closed the front door. As she turned to lock the back door, the electronic chime sounded.
“Welcome.”
She looked up—and froze.
Fu Chen An stood right in front of her.
He wore a brown brocade robe and a jade crown. He looked like he’d had some wine: cheeks flushed, eyes damp, his gaze a little too fixed. And yet he was smiling.
Xiao Ying Chun stared and took a step back. “Why are you here at this hour? Are you already in the capital city?”
“Not yet,” Fu Chen An said. “We’ll reach the capital city the day after tomorrow. Today we entered a prefectural city. The prefect hosted us. Everyone got drunk. I pretended to be drunk and returned to my courtyard.”
Xiao Ying Chun moved aside quickly. “Do you want some honey tea?”
“Okay.”
He sat at her round table, eyes flicking over the place. “This supermarket… looks different.”
“I warmed up the space a bit,” she said, grabbing a bottle of honey grapefruit tea. “I’ll heat this for you. I renovated the supermarket these past few days.”
Fu Chen An’s gaze dropped to the table. “You haven’t eaten?”
“I ate.” Xiao Ying Chun reached for the leftovers. “This is just what I didn’t—”
“I’m still not full,” Fu Chen An said.
Her hands paused. She studied him carefully.
General Fu stared at the two-thirds-full container of garlic split prawns, the bowl of matsutake stewed chicken, and the greens with a desperate kind of longing.
Xiao Ying Chun hesitated. “That’s… my leftovers. Do you want me to heat a self-heating rice instead?”
Fu Chen An didn’t look offended. He pointed at the prawns and asked with complete seriousness, “This—what is it? A bug?”
“It’s shrimp,” Xiao Ying Chun said. “Seafood. Bigger than river shrimp. You split it open, stir-fry garlic until it’s fragrant, spread it on top, then steam it.”
Fu Chen An’s eyes shone with curiosity. “Is it good?”