Chapter 2: Qin Huairu's Gesture of Goodwill

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Actions speak louder than words. Seeing the situation, Da Mao Xu had no choice but to grumble in frustration as he asked for half a spoonful of another dish before slinking away in defeat.

The crowd gradually dispersed, and the cafeteria returned to its usual quiet.

At that moment, a gentle voice whispered in his ear, “Silly Zhu—oh no, Master He, I was just watching nearby and saw everything you did.”

The speaker was Qin Huairu.

A woman as beautiful as a blooming flower, yet with a mind deep and calculating.

She smiled sweetly at He Yuzhu, her eyes both teasing and tender.

He Yuzhu knew well that although Qin Huairu was selfish, her charm was unmatched.

“What do you want?” He Yuzhu asked.

Qin Huairu smiled slightly, a mixture of allure and plaintiveness in her expression. “I just want you to show some mercy, pity us lonely widows and orphans, and save some of your leftover dishes for us. You see, we have many children at home, and they deserve to taste some meat now and then, don’t they?”

“Hey, Qin Huairu, this cafeteria isn’t your personal kitchen where you can just grab the best leftovers for yourself,” He Yuzhu said, a hint of teasing mixed with seriousness in his tone.

His words left Qin Huairu momentarily speechless. The sharp glint in her eyes dimmed into a puzzled haze.

“I didn’t catch a single word of what you just said. If you want to chat, go find someone else. I don’t have time to waste on idle talk now.” With that, He Yuzhu turned and walked away, leaving Qin Huairu standing there, watching his retreating back with a complex mix of emotions.

The next day.

He Yuzhu had something to do early on this Saturday morning. He climbed out of bed at dawn.

A few sparse stars still hung in the sky, and the curtains drawn over the window made the room dim and quiet.

He fumbled for his old watch by the pillow and squinted closely. The hands quietly pointed to five o’clock.

Normally, he would have stayed snuggled under the covers for a good sleep-in at this hour.

But today was different. Fighting off drowsiness, he switched on the desk lamp, threw on a military green coat, sat at his desk, picked up a pen, and began carefully writing down a menu.

Indeed, today he had a date—a blind date with a woman he had met once before.

They had met yesterday, and she had a good impression of him, agreeing to join him for lunch.

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He Yuzhu thought to himself that he must make a good impression at this meal. If she were to be with him, at least she would never have to worry about food.

Back when he cooked for the steel plant’s management, he had never been this nervous.

But today, he was restless, his heart fluttering with excitement and anxiety.

He was determined about this blind date.

He no longer wanted to wander alone. He wanted to find a woman he liked, get married, and live a life filled with love and care.

With that thought, all of Qin Huairu’s little schemes would be completely dismissed.

Feeling more motivated, he soon not only finished the menu but also wrote out the shopping list.

Time ticked slowly, painfully slow for him.

At last, dawn broke. He eagerly hopped on his Phoenix-brand bicycle and headed straight to the state-run market.

In this era of planned economy, everything had to be bought with ration coupons, and first come, first served rules applied.

Though he arrived early, to his surprise, a long queue had already formed.

Determined to let his date taste some fresh food, he waited patiently in line for twenty minutes before buying several fresh wild yellow croakers.

Although these fish cost only six mao per jin, considering the average monthly wage of twenty to thirty yuan, they were considered a luxury.

He Yuzhu’s family was small, with few mouths to feed. Being a foodie, he was always willing to spend on good food.

That day’s shopping took over two hours. He bought chicken, duck, fish, meat, and various vegetables.

Thankfully, his trusty Phoenix bicycle helped carry the load; otherwise, he would have been exhausted.

Back at the courtyard house, he glanced at his watch. Just past ten o’clock, there was still plenty of time.

He began bustling about—washing, sorting, and chopping vegetables.

As the knife danced swiftly in his hands, cutting meat along the grain into perfect sizes, he marinated them and set them aside.

Once all the dishes were prepared, the groundwork was finally complete.

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With the flames flickering, He Yuzhu began his culinary performance with practiced ease.

He first poured a measured amount of oil into the wok. As it heated, the sizzle of chopped scallions, ginger, and garlic hit the hot oil, instantly filling the kitchen with an irresistible aroma.

Next, he added carefully selected pork, marbled with fat and lean, which, upon sizzling, released an even richer and more mouthwatering fragrance that enveloped the kitchen.

His movements were lightning-fast yet perfectly orderly.

He stir-fried the pork until lightly browned, then added various seasonings to braise the red-cooked pork.

Meanwhile, he swiftly prepared other dishes: sweet and sour spareribs bubbled in their sauce; four-happiness meatballs were rolled round and plump in his palm; fried yellow croaker turned golden and crispy in the hot oil.

One by one, these colorful and aromatic dishes emerged from the kitchen, filling the table.

The title of Grade Eight Chef was well-earned. For He Yuzhu, preparing a lavish meal was like creating art—effortless and graceful.

The courtyard house’s front, middle, and rear yards were interconnected, with every family’s life closely intertwined.

When He Yuzhu began his feast, the enticing aromas seemed to sprout wings, quickly spreading throughout the entire courtyard.

Neighbors caught the scent and cast curious and envious glances.

At the Jia household, the smell made little Banggeng drool with desire.

He tugged at Grandma Jia Zhang’s sleeve, whining, “Grandma, I really want to eat meat! It’s been so long since I tasted any!”

Plopping down on the floor, he threw a tantrum.

Grandma Jia Zhang looked at her grandson with a mix of pity and helplessness.

She lovingly stroked Banggeng’s head and softly comforted him, “Alright, alright, my big grandson. Grandma knows you want meat. Grandma will find a way to get you some delicious meat soon.”

Just then, Qin Huairu gently pushed open the slightly worn wooden door of her home, carrying a bag of Shuanghe noodles—a rare staple in their household.

Upon entering, she was stunned by the scene before her.

Grandma Jia Zhang’s wide, round eyes fixed sharply on the bag in her hands, as if it were a hot potato she dared not touch.