Chapter 467: What I'm Worried About Is You

At this time Donglaishun still had its old‑fashioned façade, a large black‑background gold‑lettered sign.

Lifting the heavy wind‑shield curtain, a scent of thick sesame sauce mixed with fresh chive flower seasoning hit the nose.

On the wall was a big "Serve the People" banner.

The whole setup still had the state‑run style: spacious, not refined, but full of homely warmth.

Lu Cheng strode in, taking off his coat, and shouted at the counter clerk, "Excuse me, Big Sister, two plates of meat, with big three‑fork and cucumber strips, total one jin of Meat Ticket."

The Big Sister didn't look up, scribbling quickly with a pencil, and said, "Cabbage, tofu, vermicelli, all need to be ordered, light palate, and the baked buns? Two per person?"

Lu Cheng glanced at Yang Yin, thinking the girl ate like a cat—one baked bun was enough for her.

"Three baked buns total, eat them with sesame sauce, fragrant, and the side dishes should be the full set—chive flower, soy‑tofu sauce, add more."

"Got it, what else, Comrade?"

Yang Yin leaned forward and added, "Two more bottles of soda."

Seeing the Big Sister about to write it down, Lu Cheng stopped her, "Just one bottle of soda, I can't drink that stuff; give me half a jin of draft beer instead…"

Lu Cheng said, recalling something, "No need to bundle vegetables for sale now, right?"

The Big Sister shook her head, "Winter's cold, few drink beer, we can barely supply it; no need to bundle vegetables for sale—only in summer. Find a seat yourself; if none, wait a bit."

Each seat had a copper pot over charcoal, so the hall was very warm.

It was meal time, the place was crowded and noisy; after waiting for a group of people, we finally sat in a corner by the wall.

Yang Yin sat beside him, fidgeting with her bowl and chopsticks, looking troubled.

But she was the type who couldn't hide things: "Lu San'er, you said on the road you wouldn't go home because Aunt Xianglan would worry—does a war really break out?"

Yang Yin's tension was obvious; Lu Cheng thought she was scared of war, after all peace had lasted so long, hearing about war suddenly was naturally frightening.

Lu Cheng tapped her head with his chopsticks, "Don't worry, this is the capital; even if war breaks out, it won't reach here, otherwise it would be a world war."

Yang Yin hesitated, "I'm not worried about that, I'm… worried about you."

"Worried about me?"

Seeing Lu Cheng's smiling face, Yang Yin immediately understood.

"Oh dear, I'm worried about you on Aunt's behalf; she doesn't even know you're heading south—if she found out, she'd be terrified."

Lu Cheng nodded, "So, don't let it slip out, or I'll toss you to the Frontline as cannon fodder."

Yang Yin rolled her eyes, slumped listlessly on the table, pouting, "Heartless!"

At that moment, a master carried a charcoal‑fired copper pot, its yellow‑orange body polished to a shine, with a tall chimney blazing red.

The pot held clear broth, floating a few strips of white scallion, slices of ginger, two or three red dates and goji berries, crystal clear so as not to mask the lamb's natural flavor.

When the meat arrived, the sliced lamb was served on a white porcelain plate, each piece as thin as paper.

"Eat up," Lu Cheng handed over a baked bun, "Have more; when you're full you'll have the strength to ice skate."

Yang Yin took it, bit it, chewing carelessly.

Lu Cheng didn't mind; his mind was already on the hot‑pot lamb, picking up a slice with chopsticks, swirling it a few times in the boiling broth, watching the bright red turn gray‑white, then lifting it out instantly.

The finishing touch was the condiment, a thick 28% sesame sauce poured just right.

Rolling the cooked lamb in that sauce bowl coated it in a thick layer of sauce—simply the most delicious thing on earth.

"People live only to eat, right? Even if you gave me a golden nugget, I wouldn't trade it."

Lu Cheng lifted a cooked slice, about to put it in his mouth, but finally handed it to Yang Yin.

"You helped me just now, so you have the first slice," he said, then picked another piece of lamb and dropped it into the pot.

"If you don't want the baked bun now, just leave it there; you can eat more meat instead."

Yang Yin looked up, "Could you not go south? Even if you're not going to fight, that place is still dangerous."

Lu Cheng shoved the cooked lamb into his mouth; the rich aroma traveled from the tip of his tongue down his throat.

"How could I? This is my job! Moreover, the country now faces foreign invasion; as a Railway police officer, it's my duty. Not only might I be asked to deliver supplies, but if needed I'd have to take a gun to the battlefield—I can't say no."

Lu Cheng said while picking another slice, "The land our elders fought to the death to protect cannot be ceded, not even an inch, no matter which generation."

Yang Yin listened earnestly; she understood why Lu Cheng was willing to go to such a dangerous place.

"Then you… must come back safely."

Lu Cheng raised an eyebrow, teasing, "Don't worry, I won't leave you a widow."

Yang Yin gave no reply, lowered her head, and ate the first slice Lu Cheng handed her.

After that meal, sweat beaded lightly on his forehead, and his whole body felt warm and cozy.

Stepping out into the cold wind, his mouth still lingered with the after‑taste of sesame sauce and lamb.

So comfortable!

Riding his bicycle to Shichahai, the place was as bustling as ever.

Lao Sun Tou, who had been moving the same way for years, sat in a little shed made of two rows of bamboo mats, sharpening ice skates for people.

After parking his bike, Lu Cheng headed straight for the thatched shed, "Uncle Lao Sun, bring me two pairs of sharp ice skates."

Lao Sun Tou looked up, a little puzzled; he remembered last time Lu San'er brought that little girl, so why was she with him again this time?

According to Lu San'er's usual style, bringing a girl over never repeats the same one.

"Why are you renting skates this time?" Lao Sun Tou asked while rummaging through a wooden crate.

"Ah, I didn't want to go home to get them…"

Lu Cheng had just spoken when someone shouted, "Lu San'er, you're just in time—up at the ice rink, we're fighting with people from the Grand Courtyard again, short on hands, go check it out."

Lu Cheng turned his head and saw the rink indeed packed with people.

"Why's that?"

"Well, this time it's not us provoking them; a Grand Courtyard grandson was careless and tossed Xiao Piqiu's newly grabbed military cap."

A flying cap—that's a bare‑knuckle provocation; Xiao Piqiu definitely won't back down.

Lu Cheng waved his hand and said, "Alright, I'm heading over now. That glutinous rice balls, you stay with Uncle Lao Sun for now; I'll come back later to get you."

Yang Yin didn't want to; it's a rare chance for some excitement.

"I also want to go."

"What are you going for? If a fight breaks out later, it'll be chaotic."

Yang Yin lifted her ice skates and said, "Then I can help you."

Lu Cheng was speechless and had no choice but to follow her.

He swapped into ice skates here at Uncle Lao Sun's and smoothly skated over.

Seeing Lu Cheng glide so deftly, Yang Yin shouted from behind, "Didn't you say you couldn't skate? You're lying again."

Uncle Lao Sun laughed beside them, "If his mouth didn't lie, he wouldn't be Lu San'er."