Chapter 341: Daily Brawls, Yan Family Cuisine, Arrogant Fan Xiaopang

Yan Li, at the company, heard the news from his cousin but wasn't particularly tense.

Back then, several women all wanted to rise in status, and since they were new to the scene, each resented the others, fiercely hostile, and naturally clashed whenever they met.

Now, years later, the situation has stabilized; Yan Li's intentions are clear, all sides have played their moves, and their thresholds have risen dramatically.

Frictions and grudges certainly exist, scheming and targeting are normal, but no one would openly fight or strike in front of the elders—maximally, a few sharp words, nothing to force Yan Li to return in person to hold the line.

On the twenty-ninth day of the twelfth lunar month, all companies under Yan Li's control shut down for the holiday, yet many operations remained active, requiring staff to stay on duty.

Especially Weibo—Spring Festival is the official holiday, coinciding with the Spring Festival Gala, and given Weibo's real-time trending mechanism, that night's traffic would surely rank among the year's absolute peaks, impossible to ignore.

As boss, Yan Li obviously didn't need to stay on duty, but he still came personally to offer encouragement.

Don't say this is just surface work—surface work is still work; some people won't even bother with that.

In addition to coming in person, Yan Li gave all employees working through Spring Festival triple pay, plus holiday red envelopes and compensatory days off.

Moreover, Yan Li personally funded a hotel open during the holiday to provide three meals a day plus a luxury New Year's Eve dinner for the overtime staff.

Because of these benefits, while the employees didn't exactly fight to work overtime, most volunteered willingly.

After touring several companies, Yan Li returned to Yangjiao Lantern Alley.

Fan Xiaopang was on the phone in the courtyard; seeing Yan Li, he muttered a few words, hung up, and immediately filed a complaint.

"They're bullying me, won't let me stay here, saying they'll kick me out."

Yan Li: "..."

To trick him like a three-year-old? With Fan Xiaopang's temper, if Qin Dong had dared say that, they'd have already started fighting.

Qin Lan heard the commotion, stepped out of her room, heard the last part, and her face flushed with anger.

"You lie without blinking, right? When did we ever say that?"

Fan Xiaopang shot back immediately: "You didn't say it, but isn't that what you meant?"

Qin Lan was speechless—this part was true; during their earlier confrontation, some of her words, translated plainly, weren't just about kicking him out—they were practically insults.

But then again, it wasn't just them doing this—Fan Xiaopang was just as uncivilized, even holding his own against two of them and gaining the upper hand.

It wasn't that Qin Dong and the other couldn't out-insult him—well, there was a tiny bit of that too.

But the main reason was that Qin Dong, in front of several elders, had to maintain her image as a virtuous wife and mother.

Fan Xiaopang didn't care about that—he wouldn't sink to being a shrew, but he didn't mind being called "sharp-tongued."

Because of this, Qin Lan was already seething, and now Fan Xiaopang had the gall to play the victim and twist the truth—this was too much.

At that moment, Dong Xuan also stepped out, frowning at Fan Xiaopang.

"That's a low move."

"You think slipping poison into Grandma and Dad's ears isn't low?"

Fan Xiaopang was sharp—he'd already guessed their tactics from earlier exchanges with Qin Dong and now called them out directly.

"What do you mean 'slipping poison'? We're just telling the truth."

"So am I."

"Lies! That's outright slander!"

"Bullshit! You're the ones exaggerating and scheming with ill intent!"

"..."

Their voices grew louder; the Sihe Academy wasn't well soundproofed—logically, those inside should've heard, yet not a single person came out to mediate.

Yan Li pondered, then suddenly looked toward the window—two heads flashed past.

"..."

How calm are they? Really not afraid of a fight?

He wasn't the only one thinking that—Zhang Hong, who had hurriedly crouched down, also worried: "Mom, shouldn't we go out and stop them? What if something happens?"

Yan's grandmother, though not pressing against the window, sat close to the wall beside it, her better ear turned toward the courtyard; she shook her head at the question.

"Don't rush—your son's still here. If he couldn't handle it, he wouldn't have put the three of them together."

Old Yan, being stout, had just struggled to rise from bending over; he stretched his back and spoke with confidence.

"I think it's fine—though they're at odds, they've all kept their limits. If they were going to fight, they'd have done it already, not waited for Yan Li to show up."

"You can't be sure."

Zhang Hong disagreed: "Their conflict stems from your son. His arrival might just pour oil on the fire and escalate things."

"Talking won't help—let's see how my brother handles it."

Yan Xin, who'd been watching the drama, muttered, drawing the death glare of the three Yan patriarchs.

"I didn't notice until now—what are you standing there for?"

"Listen, Xiao Xin—keep your mouth shut. If this gets out, I'll have your Second Uncle beat you first, then tell your parents to beat you again."

"Shut up. Stay quiet."

Yan Xin: "..."

In front of those daughters-in-law and granddaughter-in-law, why don't you have this kind of temper? You only pick on me...

Yan Li didn't hear the commotion inside, but he stamped his foot: "If you're going to argue, take it inside—it's freezing out here."

Since everyone came and went through heated and air-conditioned spaces, Yan Li's clothes weren't thick; of course, his physique was strong, so he didn't feel cold—he just needed an excuse to end the fight.

The women were still furious and unwilling to back down, but Yan Li pushed and herded them inside.

As soon as they entered, Yan's grandmother and the others were intently watching TV; Old Yan even delivered a solid performance.

"Son's back—hungry? I'll make you a bowl of noodles."

Seeing this, Fan Xiaopang and the others couldn't keep up the drama—they each shot icy glares.

"This isn't over!"

"You two wait and see!"

Fan Xiaopang acted swiftly, plopping down right next to Yan Li; Dong Xuan seized the other end, and Qin Lan pursed her lips and sat beside Dong Xuan.

Yan Li ignored the three still squabbling—he'd gained experience from prolonged exposure.

The more he paid attention, the more he cared, the more they pushed boundaries; whether suppressing rivals or gaining advantage, they simply escalated further.

Conversely, when Yan Li grew cold and indifferent, they grew anxious or bored, and gradually quieted down.

Of course, each situation required separate analysis—sometimes this tactic worked, sometimes it acted as a catalyst or enabled open conflict; Yan Li knew how to gauge the timing and restraint.

For now, at least, the four weren't as innocent as they appeared.

Fan Xiaopang secretly pinched Yan Li; Dong Xuan's lingering fingernails scraped him repeatedly; Qin Lan, ever virtuous, handed him water—but the cup was scalding hot.

These three women!

Yan Li didn't hold back—he pinched Fan Xiaopang back just as hard, squeezed back whenever Dong Xuan scraped him, and as for Qin Lan, his height and reach meant Dong Xuan couldn't block him.

The room wasn't large, and only a few people were inside; their small maneuvers couldn't escape anyone's notice.

Zhang Hong glared at her son but said nothing; Old Yan muttered that the overcast sky might bring snow, then dragged his nephew outside to tidy up.

Yan's grandmother sat with her hands tucked in, smiling as she watched her grandson and daughters-in-law misbehave.

Yan Li had thick skin and was family, so he didn't care; Qin Lan and Dong Xuan, however, felt some discomfort before their elders.

Fan Xiaopang could endure it, but she realized she couldn't go too far—she had to play along a little, and more importantly, that bastard was too bold; she couldn't hold him off alone.

After this commotion, though slightly awkward, the atmosphere grew somewhat harmonious; the old lady and Zhang Hong chatted with them about family matters.

Yan Li wasn't fond of listening, so he stepped outside to keep Old Yan company.

As for Yan Xin, it was getting late; Old Yan shooed him back to pack up and return to their hometown.

At the gatehouse, the two men sheltered from the wind, each seated on a chair with a cigarette, gazing through the half-open gate at passersby in the alley.

"How's it going with Mom about opening a shop in Jingcheng?"

Yan Li had long wanted to bring his parents to Jingcheng to be cared for, and for this purpose he'd deployed his ultimate tactic: opening a restaurant in Jingcheng, run by his parents.

Previously, his parents had resisted coming to Jingcheng—first, because they knew no one there; second, because they felt they'd have nothing to do.

But these recent visits had helped them meet a few acquaintances, so they wouldn't be too lonely; with Yan Li setting up the restaurant for them, whether they made money or not, it would still be a legitimate livelihood.

"Dad, I've already secured the location—it's right next to Wang Fu. You can just stroll over during your free time. The shop isn't big, so you won't get worn out, but it's fully equipped: open kitchen, bright counters, your skills won't go to waste."

As Yan Li spoke, he showed Old Yan photos; the latter was tempted but still muttered.

"I don't mind, but your mom might not want to—she won't want to leave her old friends and regular customers."

Old Yan usually stayed in the kitchen; when he had free time, he'd gossip in the village. Compared to showcasing his skills in Jingcheng, he could overcome this.

But Zhang Hong was the restaurant's owner, loved chatting and gossiping, and thanks to her son's status, she had excellent connections—she might not want to abandon her years-long network.

"This is simple—I'll handle it."

Previously, Yan Li hadn't dared guarantee he could convince his mother—but now it was different; he was planning to have a child within the next one or two years.

Which mattered more: her network, or her grandson? Zhang Hong would know perfectly well.

Not to mention Zhang Hong—if he pushed hard, he might even keep the old lady herself; even if he couldn't, at least she'd spend more time each year in Jingcheng to see her great-grandchild.

Seeing Yan Li so confident, Old Yan—who'd already been tempted—grew even more eager, scrolling through the photos on Yan Li's phone, when suddenly he remembered something.

"If we open a shop in Jingcheng, we can't call it 'Yan La'er Restaurant.'"

In the countryside, restaurants named after "Yan La'er," "Wang Lao'da," or "Zhang Lao'San" were everywhere—no big deal—but in Jingcheng, such a name would seem crude.

Even if Old Yan didn't care, he had to consider the face of his wealthy son.

"Don't worry—I've already thought of a name: Yan Jia Cai."

"Yan Jia Cai?"

Old Yan murmured it, rubbing his hands: "It sounds nice, but isn't the name too grand? People who put their surnames in restaurant names are industry giants."

"They're referring to cuisine styles—we're naming our restaurant. Yan Jia Cai means dishes made by the Yan family. What's wrong with that?"

Yan Li countered—worst case, he'd add celebrity appeal. With his reputation and status, wasn't he entitled to name his own family restaurant?

Seeing Old Yan still hesitant, Yan Li switched to reverse psychology: "Besides, with your skills and the recipes I've gathered for you, you're already renowned in Lunan—why fear rivals crashing your place?"

At these words, Old Yan straightened up.

His cooking certainly didn't match the national master chefs, but thanks to the recipes his son had procured, his signature dishes reached top-tier standards—many renowned chefs and food connoisseurs had been won over.

Without that confidence, he wouldn't have been tempted by his son's plan to open a restaurant in Jingcheng.

Seeing this, Yan Li turned reverse psychology into a vision: "First, build your reputation; then, take on a few good apprentices. Years from now, Yan Jia Cai might become a full-fledged culinary style. Then you'll be the first-generation founder—the founding patriarch."

"Where's this shop? I'll go take a look sometime?"

Old Yan, fully fed by Yan Li's vision, was eager to open immediately and show off to his Jingcheng peers.