You are fooling me!

Xu Damao grew increasingly agitated. He glared fixedly at He Yuzhu, his tone carrying an unquestionable firmness: "Cut the crap, don't you dare try to fool me with lies!"

"Also, hand over the things you swindled from me right now! If I ever come to your place to search it myself and actually find them, don't blame me for turning hostile and making you lose face!"

Overpowered by his own distorted logic and consumed by a sudden surge of hostility, Xu Damao aggressively grabbed He Yuzhu by the collar and threatened viciously: "He Yuzhu, if you don't unlock your front door right now and let me search, we are not done with this!"

Watching Xu Damao throw this tantrum, He Yuzhu couldn't help but sneer inwardly.

With effortless ease, he knocked Xu Damao's hand away, his gaze as cold and sharp as a blade, as if capable of instantly freezing the other man's arrogance.

Yet, Xu Damao seemed completely oblivious to the fact that he was standing on the edge of a precipice, continuing to provoke He Yuzhu with suicidal recklessness.

"He Yuzhu, don't toast to declining drinks only to be forced to drink a forfeit! I am going to search your room right now, and if you dare to stop me, don't blame me for being ruthless!"

Looking at this unreasonable person, He Yuzhu was filled with helplessness and regret.

He regretted ever sticking his nose into other people's business in the first place to help such an ungrateful wretch like Xu Damao.

Even upholding justice required picking the right person; a completely unreasonable and brawling troublemaker like Xu Damao was simply not worth the effort and energy.

With these thoughts, He Yuzhu stood up from the ground, dusted off his clothes, turned on his heel, and walked away, putting a wide distance between himself and Xu Damao.

He had no desire to continue entangling himself with this absurd nuisance and wasting his precious time and energy.

Time flew like a white horse passing a crevice, and before he knew it, the end of the year was fast approaching.

Amidst this festive atmosphere, everyone's heart was filled with anticipation and joy.

A year of hard work was drawing to a close, and a brand-new year was about to begin.

On days like these, even the most financially strained households would find a way to add a touch of holiday spirit to their homes.

He Yuzhu was no exception.

He began to busy himself—preparing New Year goods, cleaning the house, decorating the courtyard... Every single task was carried out in an orderly fashion.

In the courtyard compound, every single family living here harbored an eager anticipation for the arrival of the New Year.

Although there was still a full month left before the joyous Spring Festival, every household had long since started getting busy with eager excitement, procuring all kinds of New Year goods, bathing the entire compound in a warm and bustling atmosphere.

In this courtyard, if anyone were asked who the busiest person was, it would undoubtedly be Chef He.

Chef He, whose full name was He Yuzhu, was the head chef at the Red Star Rolling Mill's cafeteria. His culinary skills were famously exceptional among the neighbors; whether it was stewing meat or stir-frying dishes, he always managed to leave people smacking their lips in satisfaction and showering him with praise.

And so, as the year-end approached, everyone gathered the pork they had bought using the money and meat ration coupons they had saved up for months, coming one after another to ask Chef He for help in processing it, hoping to maximize the culinary value of these hard-earned delicacies on their New Year's Eve dinner tables.

From the moment the first ray of morning sunshine spilled into the He family's small courtyard, the rhythmic sound of a cleaver chopping minced meat rang out continuously in the kitchen, lasting all the way until dusk, as if this sound had become the background music for the He family's weekend.

He Yuzhu had originally wanted to take advantage of this rare Saturday to rest, but instead, he found himself reduced to the neighborhood's full-time cook. When his right hand grew tired, he switched to his left; when his left hand ached, he switched back to his right, bustling about without a moment of rest.

As time ticked away second by second, the irritation gnawing at He Yuzhu's heart grew stronger and stronger. He began to secretly regret why he had so readily agreed to the very first neighbor who came asking for help. Once he made that initial agreement, subsequent requests poured in like an open floodgate, endless and relentless.

Just as He Yuzhu was sweating profusely and muttering under his breath, familiar footsteps sounded outside the door, followed immediately by the Third Uncle—that perpetually smiling, calculating old man—who pushed the door open carrying a two-ounce piece of pork.

As soon as he stepped inside, the Third Uncle greeted him with a face full of smiles: "Zhuzi, busy? The Third Uncle has a small favor to ask of you."

The kitchen cleaver in He Yuzhu's hand paused abruptly with a crisp clatter, and he straightaway tossed the cleaver onto the cutting board. The movement was so forceful that even the Third Uncle was startled; his eyes locked onto the cleaver as he asked with a slightly trembling voice: "Hey, Zhuzi, what's wrong with you? Unhappy?"

He Yuzhu forced out a smile, though it looked far uglier than crying. He sighed and said, "It's nothing, Third Uncle. I've just been chopping meat until my hands feel like they're about to fall off, I'm utterly exhausted." As he spoke, his gaze inadvertently drifted toward the piece of pork in the Third Uncle's hand, silently hoping that by making his reluctance clear right away, the Third Uncle might feel too embarrassed to make his request.

However, the Third Uncle was clearly not someone who could be dismissed so easily.

Maintaining his amiable smile, he leisurely walked over to the cutting board, gently set the pork down, and said unhurriedly: "Zhuzi, look, there are still many days left before the New Year, you shouldn't rush yourself so much by trying to finish everything in a single day."

"Why don't you just help the other families in the courtyard with their tasks first? The Third Uncle's family is not in a rush; take your time, as long as it gets done before the New Year, it'll be fine."

Completely absorbed in his own monologue, the Third Uncle failed to notice that He Yuzhu's expression was growing increasingly dark.

He continued issuing instructions: "Zhuzi, use this meat to make meatballs. Remember to use less seasoning when mixing the filling, as both your Third Aunt and I prefer lighter flavors..."

At that moment, He Yuzhu could no longer hold back and interrupted the Third Uncle's stream of words.

"Third Uncle, why don't you take this pork back with you for now?"

With those words, He Yuzhu reached out and shoved the piece of pork on the cutting board right back into the Third Uncle's hand.

Taken aback, the Third Uncle watched the smile vanish entirely from his face. Displaying a trace of displeasure, he tossed the pork right back onto the cutting board, his voice carrying a hint of grievance: "Zhuzi, what has gotten into you? When did the Third Uncle ever offend you? How come everyone else can ask you for help, but I can't?"

Seeing that the Third Uncle had misunderstood, He Yuzhu hurriedly waved his hands in defense: "Third Uncle, I need to make this clear to you, I have zero complaints against you!"

"I am simply exhausted to the bone. It's not just you; even if anyone else were to come asking for my help right now, I would have to turn them down."

"I originally wanted to get a good rest, but instead, I'm even more tired than if I had gone to work. I refuse to exhaust myself with this kind of heavy labor anymore!"

Despite He Yuzhu's sincere explanation, the Third Uncle seemed unwilling to drop the matter.

Frowning slightly, he continued in a persuasive tone: "Zhuzi, just help the Third Uncle this once. Frying the meat meatballs won't delay you from turning down the others later."