Chapter 497: Discovery (Part 1), Requesting Monthly Tickets!

On the way back to Fudan, the car was silent.

Watching the trees and houses blur past outside, Li Heng grew bored and began casually probing: "Liu Jie, you went to Jingcheng too this time?"

Although Liu Bei was only Yu Shuheng's secretary, her personal abilities were exceptional, and she managed most of the overseas business on behalf of Teacher Yu.

That's why Li Heng always treated her with courtesy, addressing her as Liu Jie.

Liu Bei stared straight ahead, utterly focused: "Yes, Mr. Li."

Li Heng asked: "What time did Teacher Yu leave Jingcheng today?"

Liu Bei replied: "Her flight was at ten."

Li Heng asked: "Did she return to Fudan University?"

Liu Bei said: "Yes, Miss Yu taught three classes in the afternoon before going home."

Is that so?

Li Heng thought for a moment and probed further: "How was Teacher Yu's mood when she came back?"

Liu Bei quickly glanced at him with the corner of her eye and answered: "About the same as usual."

Seeing Li Heng look at her, Liu Bei hesitated, then added: "Miss Yu's under-eye bags were quite noticeable."

Under-eye bags?

Did she not sleep well last night?

In just a few words, Li Heng gained crucial information.

In fact, this was deliberately revealed by Liu Bei. As Miss Yu's right-hand woman, she and Ceng Yun both believed Mr. Li had a high chance of becoming the Yu family's future son-in-law.

So, to avoid offending the future Yu family son-in-law, she let slip just a hint.

After processing the information, as the car entered Fudan University and was about to stop, he asked his final question: "How did Editor Liao contact Teacher Yu?"

Liu Bei answered: "The message was relayed from Shanghai to Jingcheng by Aunt Shen."

Li Heng understood. Presumably, Editor Liao called Teacher Yu's home and happened to reach Shen Xin, which explained the note left this morning.

At the same time, he wondered: Had Teacher Yu already bought tonight's ticket as a sign of jealousy? Was she urging him to return to Shanghai sooner?

Under the soft, watery moonlight, the end of Lushan Village's alley felt desolate.

The Fu family was gone.

Buildings 25, 26, and 27 had all windows and doors tightly shut, pitch black.

Li Heng stood in the center of the alley, staring blankly at his own attic.

He didn't know how long he'd stood there, mindlessly gazing—hungry and empty-stomached, he suddenly felt so famished his stomach pressed against his spine, nearly fainting.

He instinctively checked the time: 11: 2.

The dormitory gates were already locked; he had no way to find Mai Sui or Zhou Shihe.

Fine. He pulled out his keys, opened the courtyard gate, rushed into the kitchen, and rummaged—only to discover nothing at all, not even vegetables, eggs, or noodles.

Only then did he realize: because the weather was so hot, Mai Sui bought groceries daily, always in the morning, enough for the whole day.

Perhaps, since he'd gone to Jingcheng, they hadn't even spent a night in Lushan Village these past two days.

He finally found half a bag of rice—and felt utterly depressed.

Suddenly, a person popped into his mind: a woman who could also cook—Huang Zhaoyi.

It's so late—has she gone to sleep? Is she even in Shanghai?

Is she at her new place in Yangpu?

He'd promised to visit her at the end of August, but he'd delayed it for over ten days—he felt a little guilty.

As he thought, a sudden, stubborn impulse surged within him—he couldn't shake it. Without even putting down his bag, he impulsively ran out of campus.

But it was too late—everything was closed; there was no phone to be found outside.

What the hell was he supposed to do now?

Not even a place to eat?

For a moment, he considered running back to Teacher Yu's second-floor apartment to make a call.

But the moment the thought arose, he felt awkward and immediately crushed it.

The campus gate wasn't far from Da Qingyi's new place—just past Wujiao Square, a short walk away.

Thinking this, he instinctively scanned the surroundings, found a stick, and took it as a weapon, pressing forward.

He'd prepared for the worst: even if Huang Zhaoyi wasn't home, he had keys, could find something to eat, and sleep right there.

It was so late that the streets were nearly empty; when he did encounter someone, they saw his stick and immediately fled far away.

When the fourth person deliberately detoured to avoid him, Li Heng couldn't help but laugh bitterly—am I really that frightening? Do I look like a monster? Why does everyone run from me?

With this small amusement on the road, his pace quickened without notice—before he knew it, less than sixteen minutes had passed, and he arrived at Yangpu New Dwelling.

The new dwelling was a three-story villa, dark and silent under the cold moonlight.

Is she home?

Li Heng muttered again, then checked the courtyard gate—huh? It was locked from the inside?

She's home?

Li Heng inexplicably felt happy. He didn't even bother searching for his keys—he scaled the wall with his physical strength, crossed the lawn, and began knocking.

"Tap-tap-tap!"

No response the first time.

"Tap-tap-tap!"

He knocked again.

Still no response—he knocked a third time.

Then, a shadow appeared on the second-floor balcony, peering down cautiously.

Li Heng, ever alert, spotted her immediately: "Zhao Yi? It's me."

This was the first time he'd called her by name.

Hearing that familiar voice at this hour, Huang Zhaoyi froze, quickly hid the fruit knife behind her back, then her face lit up with joy.

In a voice sweeter than a oriole's, she said: "Wait a moment—I'll be right there."

She turned abruptly, switched on the living room light on the second floor, placed the knife on the coffee table, and hurried toward the staircase…

But halfway there, she suddenly stopped. Without time to think, she returned to her bedroom, frantically shed her nightgown, and quickly changed into a brand-new outfit.

Still unsatisfied, she dabbed water on her face, adjusted her reflection in the mirror, then grabbed a hair tie, fastening her hair as she ran downstairs.

All this delay took at least four or five minutes.

Arriving at the first-floor door, she paused, checked herself over, confirmed her attire was fine, took two deep breaths to calm herself, suppressed her joy, then pulled the latch and opened the door.

"Squeak." The door opened.

The two stood face to face.

After a few seconds, she hastily stepped aside and explained: "I just changed clothes."

Li Heng grunted, stepped in, and scanned her from head to toe, asking softly: "Did I wake you up?"

Huang Zhaoyi shut the door, bent down, picked up the shoes she'd prepared for him, and placed them by his feet: "I was reading. I'd just lain down—not asleep yet."

Li Heng took off his shoes and changed: "Oh? What book?"

Huang Zhaoyi said: "Corporate Finance."

Li Heng was surprised: "By Steve Ross?"

As she helped him slip on his shoes, Huang Zhaoyi looked up, delighted: "You've read it too?"

Li Heng nodded: "I've read it several times."

Huang Zhaoyi smiled: "I'm on my third reading today."

Li Heng nodded, then asked: "Why are you staying here tonight?"

Under his unwavering gaze, Huang Zhaoyi felt as if he'd seen through her. She avoided his eyes: "I've been waiting for you."

Li Heng paused, then asked: "Have you been waiting all this time?"

Huang Zhaoyi felt embarrassed but answered honestly: "Yes."

Just as I thought.

Just as he'd suspected before arriving—this woman, who never pressured him, was silently waiting.

They gazed at each other for a while. Li Heng sighed inwardly: "I've been busy lately. I'm sorry."

Huang Zhaoyi shook her head with a smile: "You haven't wronged me. I'm doing this willingly. Waiting for you is happiness—full of anticipation."

Gazing at this woman who had foolishly devoted herself to him, Li Heng's emotions were too complex to describe.

At first, he hadn't particularly cared for her—but after an accidental encounter in bed, he'd gradually grown fond of coming here.

She never competed, never complained—such a woman, except for her age, was impossible to find elsewhere.

Besides, having lived two lives, her thirty-three years somehow aligned better with his own mature, decades-old psychological age.

After a pause, Li Heng slowly extended his right hand to her left ear, tracing the large round earring, then gliding down along her earlobe, following the milky-white swan-like neck, finally circling her collarbone.

Huang Zhaoyi savored his touch, closing her eyes, gently extending her neck—under his lingering caress, a peculiar, intimate thrill stirred within her.

"Gurgle… gurgle…"

Suddenly, an inappropriate sound came from Li Heng's stomach, breaking the silence.

Huang Zhaoyi opened her eyes: "You haven't eaten?"

The intimate mood shattered, Li Heng withdrew his hand: "I just came back from Jingcheng."

Huang Zhaoyi turned, poured him a cup of tea, found a box of cookies, then briskly headed to the kitchen: "Eat a few cookies first to tide you over—I'll cook for you."

Li Heng called after her: "Do you have any vegetables at home?"

Huang Zhaoyi said, "I prepare fresh vegetables every day."

She spoke only half her meaning—the other half implied: To welcome you, I prepare fresh dishes you love every single day.

Li Heng stood rooted in place; after a long moment, he picked up the teacup with his left hand, pinched a few cookies with his right, and followed her into the kitchen, saying:

"Do we have noodles? Just make me a bowl."

Hearing this, Huang Zhaoyi turned to look at him, her eyes seeming to say: You've come to me so rarely—wouldn't noodles be too much of an excuse?

Li Heng understood her meaning: "It's already late. By the time you finish cooking, it'll be nearly one."

Huang Zhaoyi glanced at her wristwatch, thought for a moment, then said: "I'll make you a simple stir-fried yellow beef topping."

Li Heng readily agreed: "Fine, that works—I like beef."

Without delay, she swiftly prepared the ingredients, took out the day's fresh beef, washed it carefully, then picked up the knife and began chopping with practiced ease.

Li Heng stepped closer, studying the beef slices on the cutting board—thin as cicada wings—and praised: "Good knife skills. Took you a lot of time, didn't it?"

His single compliment outweighed armies, outweighed millions in wealth; a quiet joy stirred inside Huang Zhaoyi she couldn't name.

She said, "I don't know many dishes—I practice whenever I have time."

Her casual mention of "practice" concealed immense effort: beyond her fixed routines of Peking opera and physical training, she read books to sharpen her mind, and spent every spare moment in the kitchen, refining her knife work, perfecting her signature dishes.

Roughly speaking, during the time she waited for him, she had wasted at least thirty jin of premium yellow beef.

And this was only the beef—other dishes, needless to say, had been wasted just as much.

She never minded the cost of ingredients. Deeply aware that compared to young, beautiful women, her only path to worth lay in mastering the culinary arts.

She aimed for perfect color, aroma, and taste—to make him glance at her once more, to make him eat an extra bowl at the table, to make him quietly grow accustomed to her, then accept her.

The beef topping was ready quickly; once the water boiled, the noodles came out after four minutes. A large bowl brimmed with beef, glistening with red oil, perfect in color, aroma, and taste—appetizing beyond words.

Starving, Li Heng didn't wait for it to cool—he grabbed a chopstick, slurped a strand into his mouth, and his taste buds exploded: "Mmm~… This is excellent. Even the best noodle shop couldn't do better."

PS: First day of May—please give me your base monthly votes.

Post first, revise later.

(Two more chapters during the day.)

(End of chapter)