Dong Wenzhong was still hesitating, unsure whether to take that final step, but Chen Yanran couldn’t wait any longer. Her eyes were already burning with spite. In her heart, Xu Ying’s second brother’s teaching position should have belonged to her. That role, that future—it had been stolen by Xu Shengcai, and now all she could think about was revenge.
“I’ll lure her out,” Chen Yanran said coldly, her lips curving into a sinister smile. “I’ll lead her into the woods.”
Dong Wenqiang blinked, taken aback for a moment. He hadn’t expected this woman to be so daring—so bold that she could even act as bait. But he agreed, mostly to avoid a drawn-out debate over details.
“Alright,” he nodded. “But when do we act? We’ve been resting for days now. It’s time for the captain to give the word—either we do the job or we don’t.”
Dong Wenzhong looked toward Chen Yanran, silently giving her the lead.
She didn’t hesitate. “Once Xu Ying takes a few days off to rest, we’ll strike.”
Wenqiang scowled. “Wait for her to rest? That could take forever. Why don’t we just lure her to the county? It’s more discreet than doing it in the village.”
Chen Yanran’s eyes lit up. Yes, the county would be much more suitable—less prying eyes, more hidden corners. Her tone became decisive. “Then it’s settled. Tomorrow, I’ll set up a meeting with her. You two, go scout for a remote place in the county.”
The two Dong brothers rubbed their hands in excitement, already imagining the spoils of their scheme. They had long heard rumors about Xu Ying—the famed daughter of the captain’s family, with her fair skin, delicate features, and poise that rivaled any city girl’s. If either of them could snatch her, they’d be set for life—no more sweating under the harsh rural sun.
“Alright, we’ll go. Just make sure to get leave for Wenzhong and me,” Wenqiang said, practically humming with anticipation. “We’ll be off now.”
Back at the restaurant, the next morning dawned like any other—except for the wound peeking from beneath Xu Ying’s sleeve. As she worked, rolling up her sleeves, Sun Lifang gasped aloud.
“Xu Ying! What happened to your arm?”
Concern creased her brow. Growing up in the countryside, she knew how some families treated their daughters—especially when sons were favored. Her imagination ran wild with fury.
Her voice turned sharp. “Don’t tell me your parents did this to you?”
Xu Ying laughed helplessly, touched by the concern but amused by the conclusion. “No, no. I just fell yesterday.”
The memory flashed through her mind—of Huo Chen, the aloof yet endearingly awkward man who’d bandaged her up. He looked like a cold, distant wolf on the outside, but on the inside? He was unexpectedly gentle, even cute. The thought made her lips twitch into a smile.
“You fell? While riding your bike?” Sun Lifang stared at her in disbelief. “Aiya, Xu Ying, how can you be so careless!”
Before Xu Ying could respond, Chef Ge walked over with a frown etched deep on his face. His usual disdain surfaced as he clicked his tongue.
“So careless,” he muttered. “You injured your arm? Do you even realize how important your hands are ? One accident like this and your cooking days might be over.”
Xu Ying smiled sweetly, unbothered by the scolding. She knew it came from a place of worry.
But Zhang Quanquan, who had been lingering nearby, caught that comment. His eyes narrowed before he silently slipped away.
Xu Ying gave a sheepish grin. “It was too dark. I didn’t see the stone on the road, and the bike just—well, it took off with me!”
Chef Ge’s frown deepened. “You’re a girl, and your home is so far. In a few weeks, days will get even shorter. You can’t keep riding back and forth like that in the dark. It’s too dangerous.”
He paused, then pulled a crumpled ten-yuan note from his pocket and pressed it into her hand.
“Here. Use this to rent a place closer to work.”
Xu Ying froze. The warmth that blossomed in her chest had nothing to do with the temperature. In a time like this, ten yuan wasn’t pocket change—it could be an entire family’s yearly allowance in the countryside.
“Chef Ge…” she smiled gently, trying to push the note back. “Thank you, but I really do have enough money. I just want to spend more time with my parents while I can. It was just one late night—the rest of the time, I’m home by sunset.”
Sun Lifang chimed in, “If you really decide to rent a place, come to me! My mom knows people. I’ll help you find something safe and affordable.”
Xu Ying grinned and gave her a playful wink. “Thank you, Lifang. I’ll hold you to it.”
The kitchen returned to its usual morning buzz. Porridge steamed, buns were being wrapped, and Xu Ying, ever the innovator, was already trying something new.
Yesterday’s favorability score boost, thanks to Huo Chen’s visit, had unlocked another level in her mysterious space. She’d gained a hundred points from just that one interaction—this system was truly rewarding. But each new level required more and more points. Good thing her kitchen experiments were adding flavor to her life—and her stats.
Today’s menu included three new bun fillings: mushroom with cabbage, spicy tofu, and vermicelli with mushrooms. The fat pork from yesterday had been rendered into oil, adding a rich aroma that made everyone’s stomach growl.
Sun Lifang and Gao Xianghong, tasked with wrapping the buns, were practically drooling over the smell.
“Is that… a new recipe?” Gao Guihua entered the kitchen, wringing a wet rag in her hands as she approached the sink. Her eyes drifted toward Xu Ying, who was swiftly chopping ingredients.
Chef Ge, watching silently, didn’t even bother to comment. He’d long since given up trying to claim mastery over the young girl. If anything, he felt she should be his teacher now.
Xu Ying glanced up with a smile. “Just trying out new stuffings. If we have the ingredients, I figure why not experiment?”
Everyone’s mouths watered at the thought, and anticipation thickened in the air like steam from the stove.
On the sidelines, Zhang Quanquan’s expression darkened. He felt like life had dealt him an unfair hand. How was it that Xu Ying, so young, had such talent? Her dishes were flavorful, creative, alive—while he, even after four long years, couldn’t cook anything without it tasting like bland mush.
Gao Guihua couldn’t resist poking the bear. She chuckled and said loudly, “Quanquan, some people are just born to do this. Look at Xu Ying. She hasn’t even been here a full season and she’s already better than the rest of us. Why are your dishes still so… tasteless?”
Zhang Quanquan’s face turned scarlet with rage. He snapped, “Sure, I’m not as good as Xu Ying. But at least I’m better than your useless brother! He can’t cook, can’t clean, can’t even be a proper apprentice. And don’t forget Xianghong—she just got here, and suddenly Director Hong’s considering her for front office manager?”
That comment struck a nerve. Gao Guihua’s smile faltered.
Everyone in the restaurant knew that the front office manager position had been vacant for months. Now, whispers swirled—could it be that Director Hong had a special interest in Xianghong?
But Gao Xianghong quickly jumped to clarify, her face flushed with urgency.
“Zhang Youquan, don’t stir up trouble! I’m just a temporary worker—not even official staff yet! If Director Hong really wants to promote someone, it should be based on merit. My sister-in-law’s been working here for nearly a decade. She’s the most diligent person I know. Don’t you all think she deserves it more than anyone?”
Her eyes swept across the room, silently urging others to agree.
For a moment, the kitchen fell quiet.
The steam from the buns curled into the air, carrying with it tension, ambition, and the scent of something far richer than just pork and cabbage—drama was simmering, and everyone was hungry for more than just food.