Chapter 994: Pork Ribs and Glutinous Rice Cake Are Delicious

Every time Wang Yan came to Huanghe Road, he would chat with Jing Xiu for a while; Jing Xiu was always happy to offer Wang Dage one of his precious Huazhi cigarettes, and now with the hot weather and iced tea available, he also gave him a can of Qingxin Liucha, priced at two yuan.

It was a decent friendship of a cigarette and a cup of tea.

“Wang Dage is going to Zhizhen Garden again, right?” Jing Xiu wore an expression that said, “I knew it.”

Wang Yan nodded with a smile.

“The boss lady of Zhizhen Garden is really impressive. Last time you came, wasn’t I just saying that Bao Zong claimed Zhizhen Garden wouldn’t last three months? But no one knows how they struck a deal with Jin Meilin and the others—over the past week, every restaurant has switched their gas lines and added new stoves. It’s clear they’ve all reached agreements.”

Here, Jing Xiu asked curiously, “Was this your doing, Wang Dage?”

“Has Miss Wang come to Huanghe Road lately?”

“Funny—you asked me the same thing. She was wearing a pair of pearl earrings, said they were a gift from Bao Zong.”

Wang Yan smiled and sipped his Qingxin Liucha.

“Oh, by the way, Wang Dage, you know Fan Zong too, right?”

Seeing Wang Yan nod, Jing Xiu chuckled, “Fan Zong is partnering with Bao Zong under the brand San Yang. I heard it was originally scheduled to launch at Dragon Boat Festival, and it was even reported in the papers—but for some reason, they moved it to Valentine’s Day, at Hulian Mall on Nanjing Road. Fan Zong is frantic, running around nonstop. Everyone thinks Bao Zong is going to fail this time, judging by how panicked Fan Zong looks.”

“What do you think?”

“I think Fan Zong can’t keep his cool.”

“You’re right, Jing Xiu. These days are great for business—people are laid off, others are diving into commerce; there’s no shortage of workers or partners with connections. You’ve saved up some money, haven’t you? Ever thought about starting your own business?”

Smiling under Wang Yan’s questioning gaze, Jing Xiu said, “I’m just a small-time guy. Holding down this phone booth and earning a little is enough for me. It’s hard-earned cash, no chance of getting rich, but no risk of losing either. Still, I’ve got other income streams—thanks to you, Wang Dage.”

Meeting Wang Yan’s inquiring look, Jing Xiu smiled.

I’ve been following your business since day one—I immediately recognized when you entered the logistics field, and when you launched your driver-partnership model, I saw you perfectly captured the trend. So I borrowed some money, added my savings, bought a Dongfeng truck, got my laid-off cousin and his eldest son to obtain their truck licenses, and they partnered up, operating under Cao Cao Logistics on the Beijing-Shanghai route. It’s been a year now; they’re almost paid off.

“Good.” Wang Yan nodded with a smile.

Logistics is very profitable now; Jing Xiu made a smart choice. If he’d bought a truck himself and gone blindly, he wouldn’t have made much—road bandits, negotiating contracts, all too hard. But with a company behind him, business is guaranteed, safety is guaranteed—that’s what matters most. In some cities, there are even driver hostels offering rescue and repair services.

“Once you’ve saved enough, you can buy a new truck. But when roads improve, security improves, and more trucks hit the road, freight rates will drop—drivers and owners will find it harder. Still, overall, you can reliably earn for twenty years.”

“And after that?”

“Who can say?” Wang Yan shook his head, extinguished his cigarette, and set down the empty tea can. “See you.”

“See you, Wang Dage.”

Jing Xiu waved enthusiastically as always…

Pan Manager, standing at the entrance of Zhizhen Garden, was just as warm, stepping forward to greet: “Wang Laoban, you’re here again! Private room or open seating today?”

“If there’s open seating, I’ll take that. I’m just here for free food—I wouldn’t waste your private room on myself, that’d hurt business.”

“This way, Wang Laoban.” She led him to a corner window seat, then walked off without asking what he wanted to eat—naturally, she brought whatever was delicious, filling the small square table with over a dozen dishes.

Sipping the tea the server brought, not long after, dish after dish arrived. At that moment, Li Li walked over with a bottle of Maotai, sat across from Wang Yan, poured his wine, and clinked glasses with him.

Then she spoke: “The matter’s resolved. Thank you, Wang Laoban, for your support.”

“Drink less.” Wang Yan smiled, then tossed back the entire glass.

Li Li didn’t hold back either—she downed it in one gulp. Seeing his amused expression, she picked up a dish to go with it, took a breath, and laughed: “When the wine flows, the heart follows.”

“Nonsense.”

“At Zhizhen Garden, including private rooms and open seating, there are eighty-eight tables—eighty-seven of them do the same.”

Wang Yan smiled: “I hear the ease in your voice.”

He was certain Li Li would invoke his name—because he carried more weight, was simpler and more direct. Bao, who resembled the old lover A, clearly lacked Wang Yan’s intimidating presence.

Moreover, Li Li had no backer, and her money wasn’t much either. In the drama, the old uncle said Li Li used a bankbook showing thirty million in turnover to open the restaurant—but thirty million in turnover isn’t thirty million in actual funds. A simple analogy: money-laundering accounts show huge turnover, but the owners are broke and end up in prison.

So of course she’d choose the simplest, most direct route—resolve the trouble quickly.

In the original drama, Li Li’s struggle with other restaurant bosses, aided by Bao, seemed impressive and even trendy—but in truth, nothing happening at all is more sophisticated, more powerful.

Like now—even without Bao’s earlier claim that Zhizhen Garden wouldn’t last three months, everyone knew that Lu Meilin and the others would cause trouble, given Jin Fenghuang’s precedent. But suddenly, Jin Meilin and the others began upgrading gas lines and adding stoves—everyone understood: something had happened, Lu Meilin and the rest had backed down.

This would make Li Li even more mysterious, more inscrutable—and the benefits to her would be greater.

“Solving a problem without bloodshed is naturally easy. But Wang Laoban, I’m curious about one thing—could you answer a question for me?”

“Go ahead.”

Li Li leaned forward: “Three years ago, Lu Meilin invited you and Tao Zong to dinner at Jin Meilin. What exactly happened that day? Why is Jin Meilin so afraid of you?”

“You don’t strike me as a woman with so much curiosity.”

“Sometimes I am.”

“I can tell you—it was like this…” Wang Yan chuckled and briefly recounted how Du Honggen had once pointed a gun at him at Jin Meilin.

Li Li’s gaze passed through the glass, lingering on the black Santana parked beside Jing Xiu’s phone booth, then returned to Wang Yan, calmly eating.

“Wang Laoban is truly formidable,” she could only say.

“I just learned some basic martial arts, and being alone, I fear nothing,” Wang Yan said lightly.

“You shouldn’t be short on cash now—why still drive this Santana?”

“I have other cars, but I’m used to this one. Besides, it’s been modified—it’s quite comfortable. You’ll understand when you ride in it.”

Li Li smiled politely: “Wang Laoban, enjoy your meal. I’ll go attend to other matters. If you need anything, just call a server—you’re Zhizhen Garden’s most honored guest.”

Wang Yan shook his head with amusement and continued eating…

After the meal, he drove slowly through Huanghe Road, savoring its usual bustle, then headed toward Suzhouhe for a stroll.

As he drove, his gaze casually shifted—he spotted Fan Zong squatting outside Honglu, munching on something. Instantly, he turned the wheel and pulled up in front of Fan Zong.

Fan Zong, seeing a Santana stop directly before him, had already stood up, ready to curse. But then he recognized Wang Laoban getting out.

His angry expression instantly turned into a sheepish grin. He stepped forward: “Oh my, what a coincidence, Wang Zong! Didn’t expect to run into you here!”

Wang Yan pulled out Huazhi, offered one to Fan Zong, lit one himself, and looked up at the second-floor windows of Honglu, where shadows moved—unless mistaken, the same group of women were socializing, singing into microphones, including Miss Wang.

He said: “I heard San Yang’s launch date moved to February 14th, Valentine’s Day. It’s almost here—why aren’t you back managing cargo transport? What are you doing here, waiting for Miss Wang?”

“Oh, don’t get me started, Wang Zong. San Yang’s about to launch, but I can’t find Bao Zong—he’s either drinking Remy Martin or dancing disco. And Miss Wang—look at her, Wang Zong! Even now, she’s drinking and singing here.”

“I think they don’t take San Yang seriously at all. My factory has over a thousand workers, hundreds of thousands in unpaid raw material costs, millions in inventory piled up. If I don’t make San Yang a Shanghai brand, I can’t rest for a single day. Look, Wang Zong—I’ve only eaten one oil dumpling all day.”

Wang Yan shook his head, patted his shoulder: “You signed an exclusive distribution contract—if San Yang doesn’t sell, you lose hundreds of thousands, but Bao Zong has to pay you breach penalties too—enough to cover your costs, right? Relax. Have the clothes arrived?”

“They came today—via Wang Zong’s Cao Cao Logistics, reliable as ever. Wang Zong, I can’t help being anxious. You know how big your business is—you understand. Good opportunities are once-in-a-lifetime. If San Yang sells poorly, I won’t lose too much—the factory can absorb it.”

“But Wang Zong, what about the money I could’ve made? If I could’ve earned it, but Bao Zong didn’t do his job, and I lost it—that’s millions gone. And if San Yang becomes a Shanghai brand, it’s crucial for our factory’s future. This kind of thing can’t afford even the tiniest mistake.”

At that moment, Rose, Honglu’s manager, escorted guests out, heard Fan Zong’s loud voice, and saw Wang Yan standing with him.

She smiled and walked over: “Wang Laoban, you’re at Honglu’s door—why not come in? Even if you don’t eat, have a cup of tea. Miss Wang is upstairs entertaining friends.”

Before Wang Yan could speak, Fan Zong stepped forward two paces: “Oh, I’m here to find Miss Wang! I’m Fan Xinhua—could you please go up and call her down?”

“This…” Rose looked at Wang Yan, saw him smile and nod, then replied, “Wang Laoban, Fan Zong, please wait a moment—I’ll go call Miss Wang.”

“You really have clout on Huanghe Road, Wang Zong.”

“What clout? I’ve known Rose for years.”

“Oh, right, right—I almost forgot—you started out selling lamb skewers right here.”

In just a few sentences, Miss Wang stepped out of Honglu, glared at Fan Zong, then glared even more fiercely at Wang Yan.

“Why are you two together?”

“Wang Zong just passed by and ran into me,” Fan Zong didn’t care—he stepped forward again. “Miss Wang, where’s Bao Zong? Where is he? You have to help me find him…”

Fan Zong repeated almost word-for-word what he’d just told Wang Yan—the core message remained: Bao wasn’t putting in effort for San Yang’s launch.

Miss Wang was thoroughly impatient. Once Fan Zong finished his rant, she shouted back just as loudly: “Fan Zong, with your voice, why don’t you become a storyteller? From start to finish, you’re the one dragging your feet—do you even know who I’m dining and singing with? Editors from Shanghai Fashion, a Hong Kong photographer and his models…”

“Bao Zong paid me to entertain them—what they wear, others will copy. If you get a few uncles and aunts to buy two or three pieces, San Yang won’t become popular. I’m doing this voluntarily—you know these tasks aren’t my job. You’re so energetic here—why don’t you go entertain them? I’ll go sleep.”

After speaking, Miss Wang turned to leave without even glancing at Fan Zong. As she passed Wang Yan, he grabbed her arm. She yanked hard but couldn’t break free. When she heard him say, “I’ll take you home,” she stopped struggling.

Fan Zong exclaimed in delight: “Really? Miss Wang?”

“Fake!” Miss Wang remained sour.

“Miss Wang, go rest. I’ll go up and keep them company—I’m actually a decent singer too. ‘Annie’? I can sing that. Wang Zong, I’m off—see you!”

“See you.” Wang Yan nodded with a smile, watching Fan Zong climb the stairs to sing “Annie.”

“Can you let go now?” Miss Wang’s annoyed voice rang out.

“Not yet.”

Though he said that, Wang Yan released her anyway: “Get in the car. I’ll take you home.”

Miss Wang huffed, walked around to the passenger side, opened the door, and sat in.

Wang Yan started the car and drove on.

“Why were you with Fan Zong? Did you just go to Zhizhen Garden?”

“Very sharp.”

Miss Wang huffed: “I heard all the restaurants on Huanghe Road borrowed Li Li’s luck—adding stoves to their kitchens. Everyone’s saying Li Li made Lu Meilin back down. Was that your doing?”

“Not exactly—I just told Li Li to use my name to talk to Lu Meilin.”

“Isn’t that the same? If Lu Meilin didn’t respect you, wouldn’t you still have to trouble her? You’re really invested in Li Li.”

“I’ve only met her three times.” Wang Yan shook his head and changed the subject: “I heard Bao Zong gave you a pair of pearl earrings?”

“Here they are,” Miss Wang said, lifting her hair slightly and tilting her head to let Wang Yan see better.

“They look nice. Won’t you hand them over?”

“If they’re pretty, of course I keep them for myself.”

If Wang Yan hadn’t asked, Miss Wang likely would’ve handed them in. But since he asked, she deliberately held onto them to defy him. Still, as previously noted, earrings weren’t the main issue—no real harm done.

Seeing Wang Yan only smile, say nothing.

Miss Wang asked: “Where did you hear that?”

“Jing Xiu told me. I asked him if Miss Wang had been to Huanghe Road lately—he said, ‘Funny—you asked me the same thing. She was wearing a pair of pearl earrings, said they were a gift from Bao Zong.’”

Obviously, Miss Wang wasn’t concerned with pearl earrings at this moment; she snapped, “Why are you asking about me?”

“Then why are you asking about me?”

“Who are you to tell me what to do?”

“Who are you to tell me what to do?”

“Ugh, you’re driving me crazy!” Miss Wang, irritated by Wang Yan’s flippant and ambiguous tone, slapped him lightly.

Perhaps all women have a habit of resorting to physicality—but it’s also a good sign. It means the safe distance of unfamiliarity has been broken, and their bond has drawn closer.

“Look at you—can’t win an argument, so you hit.”

“I’m hitting you. No man is any good.”

“Stop fooling around—we’re driving! If we flip into a ditch or crash into a wall, we’ll both die together. You won’t even get to refuse being with me.”

“Get lost, get lost. I’d rather die than be with you.”

“Then what should I say?”

Miss Wang rolled her eyes, crossed her arms, turned her head toward the window, and ignored Wang Yan.

He was a damn man—being with him was truly delightful, yet she couldn’t help thinking he was a heartless rake, and he had the audacity to say it outright, hiding not a single malicious thought.

She stayed silent, and Wang Yan didn’t force conversation. A few cheerful words were enough; he understood perfectly that Miss Wang’s inner resistance had flared up again.

As they neared Miss Wang’s building, she asked, “Have you been to Pig Rib and Rice Cake lately?”

“Not yet.”

“Why not?”

“I always feared I wouldn’t run into you.”

“I bet you’ve grown used to the fine meals at Zhenzhen Garden and no longer want to eat Pig Rib and Rice Cake.”

Wang Yan slammed the car to a stop, shifted to neutral, and yanked the handbrake in one fluid motion. Before Miss Wang could react, he reached out, cupped her face, and kissed her hard on the lips.

“Mmm…”

As their lips met, the strong male scent overwhelmed her. Miss Wang’s eyes flew open, her mind went blank. When she came to, she unleashed a flurry of wild punches, thrashing and struggling.

But the blows and struggles lasted only a moment. As the car warmed, she wrapped her arms around Wang Yan’s neck, lost in the sudden, passionate, unforgettable kiss…

Long moments passed. They broke apart. Miss Wang shoved him away hard, her cheeks flushed crimson as she gasped for breath. She glared at him furiously, scrubbed her lips with her sleeve, then punched him again—hard.

“Disgusting,” she muttered, deeply dissatisfied.

“I didn’t even complain about you.”

“You’re a pervert! Do you know that? I’m calling the police. You’re going to be shot.”

“I’m telling you—I really want to eat Pig Rib and Rice Cake. It’s delicious,” Wang Yan said, raising one eyebrow with a grin.

Instantly, Miss Wang’s face turned even redder. She slapped him again and shouted, “I’m sick of you!”

Then she turned, opened the door, and stepped out, slamming it shut with furious force before sprinting away.

They were already close to her building. Wang Yan didn’t chase her. He turned on the headlights, lit a Huazǐ cigarette, rolled down the window, and watched her run back.

Only when she vanished from sight did he restart the car and turn around to leave. If Miss Wang sleeps well tonight, he’ll admit defeat…

To ensure San Yang’s explosive launch, like in the drama, Bao had indeed worked hard. Especially after dining at Zhenzhen Garden, Li Li somehow got hold of counterfeit silk-cotton clothes that, like the original, wouldn’t burn—and he became more anxious than anyone else.

Even though his wealth had skyrocketed far beyond what it was at the time, no one ever turns down more money. This San Yang deal would net him over a million. Besides, his reputation was on the line—if San Yang failed, it would hurt his future.

Miss Wang certainly played some role, but she wasn’t the whole reason.

In the blink of an eye, it was February 14th—the Western Valentine’s Day, the long-awaited day for Fan Zong’s San Yang launch.

Yet Wang Yan, after his daily exercise and breakfast, arrived at Yedongjing.

Lingzi, Teacher Ge, Linghong, along with Xiao Wen and Xiao Qin, were picking vegetables. Tao Tao, meanwhile, stood in the kitchen, looking like death itself as he chopped ingredients.

Hearing the bell on the door, Lingzi warmly rushed forward as Wang Yan entered.

“Boss Wang! Oh my, your big brother phone is so heavy—just leave it here.” Lingzi took Wang Yan’s phone and placed it on the counter, then pulled out a bottle of Qingxin Cool Tea. “Thirsty? Here—this is the new Qingxin Cool Tea. They say it’s good for your health and stimulates your appetite.”

Worse still, she carefully popped the tab and slipped in a straw—service was impeccable.

“You sounded desperate on the phone—what did you say again? ‘Boss Wang, disaster! Yedongjing’s in trouble! Come quick—you’re indispensable!’ I didn’t misremember, right?”

“That’s right. Today San Yang launches at Hulian Department Store. Bao Zong shipped a batch there beforehand, so I sent Xiao Monk to monitor the scene. Once sales explode there, we’ll push sales here.”

“What’s this got to do with me?”

“Oh my, Boss Wang, you can’t talk like that.” Under Wang Yan’s piercing gaze, Lingzi dropped the act.

She said, “Fine, fine—someone has to monitor Hulian Department Store. My staff aren’t like yours—you make one call and hundreds show up.”

“So you sent Xiao Monk over?”

“Exactly. But then we’re left without a chef. Boss Wang, I’m not saying this to nag—but cooking’s a skill you must practice regularly, or your talent will rust. You won’t cook well anymore. Now’s the perfect chance—you can cover for half a day. Just until after lunch. Will you help?”

Lingzi nudged Wang Yan with her shoulder. “Oh my, we’re friends—helping out isn’t a big deal.”

“If you’re going to say that, I’m missing someone to warm my bed. How about you come home with me tonight?”

Teacher Ge, Linghong, and Tao Tao started hooting. Lingzi waved them off irritably: “Get lost, get lost.”

She slapped Wang Yan’s back again: “Just say yes or no.”

“I’m already here—do you think I’m leaving?” Wang Yan shook his head, shrugged off his coat, which Lingzi took. “You’ve heard the story of the boy who cried wolf, Lingzi. Be careful.”

“Oh my, you can’t hold a grudge against me. Hurry up, hurry up—it’s almost ten. We’re about to get customers!” Lingzi didn’t care, urging Wang Yan to get to work.

Wang Yan smiled and walked into the kitchen.

Tao Tao watched Lingzi happily return to picking vegetables, then leaned over to Wang Yan: “Boss Wang, isn’t Lingzi bored to death? Oh my, I stayed up all night playing mahjong yesterday, and she dragged me here to work—I don’t even get treated like this at home.”

“Fangmei cares about you,” Wang Yan chuckled. “Who were you playing mahjong with? Little Ah-Sao?”

“Hehe~” Tao Tao nodded with a grin.

“You’ve got designs on her? Fangmei’s going to chop you to pieces.”

“She’ll definitely chop me into a thousand pieces,” Tao Tao said, shuddering in fear. “Boss Wang, sometimes I envy you—sure, I envy your money—but what I envy more is your freedom.”

“Go soak in your own sourness. This is about women, not men. Understand? If I were you, Fangmei would chop me too. So, have you slept with Little Ah-Sao?”

“Don’t you dare say that, Boss Wang—we’re completely innocent, nothing happened! I’m terrified too,” Tao Tao shook his head frantically, then couldn’t help grinning dreamily. “We’re governed by emotion but restrained by propriety—isn’t that how they say it?”

“Yes.”

“You don’t know, Boss Wang—Little Ah-Sao’s eyes shoot electricity. Every time she looks at me and smiles, oh my—it’s like a kitten scratching my heart, so soft, so numb…” Tao Tao looked utterly enchanted.

“You’re dead.”

“No, Boss Wang, you’re not going to tell Fangmei, are you? You absolutely mustn’t—”

“Who knows a husband better than his wife? Right now it’s fine, but over time, Fangmei will notice. And you’re so afraid of her—you might even dream of being caught in the act, muttering in your sleep. Then you’re done for.”

“Hssss…” Tao Tao sucked in a sharp breath.

When a group gathers, things are always lively. Amid the bustle, time passed slowly.

The phone at Yedongjing rang nonstop. Lingzi and Xiao Wen and Xiao Qin carried boxes of clothes up and down. Finally, near noon, Fei Xiang appeared on Nanjing Road, singing “A Fire in the Winter,” and San Yang sales exploded.

Lingzi and the others were overjoyed. Tao Tao forgot about Little Ah-Sao and immediately carried two boxes of clothes back to Guling Road to sell. Linghong sold inside the shop. Lingzi began promoting to diners. Poor Teacher Ge stood outside holding a garment, calling out in a voice as faint as a mosquito’s, trying to appease Lingzi.

Wang Yan stood in the kitchen, swinging his wok with a clang…