Courtyard House: Ten-year-old Master Zhu reorganizes the entire courtyard

Hong Ye's affair was like a gust of wind; it was over and forgotten.

However, the rumor about "the descendant of a famous chef" orchestrated by Ho Yu-chu was like a pebble thrown into water, creating ripples all around.

Xu Fugui was the biggest cheerleader.

He embellished the story, describing the scene of the "guild members" arriving that day in a fantastical way. He described how the two managers were extremely respectful and how Master He had an extraordinary demeanor. The story was upgraded from "descendant of the imperial chef" to "successor of the imperial chef," and then from "guild's famous chef" to "guild leader."

He Daqing became a legendary figure in Taiping Town.

As a result, Liu's Restaurant's business boomed even more. Many people came from far and wide, just to catch a glimpse of this "reclusive master" and taste the legendary "imperial cuisine."

He Daqing heeded his son's instructions and became even more discreet. No matter how much others praised him, he would only smile, and his work became increasingly restrained, focusing only on the most ordinary home-cooked dishes. The more he did this, the more unfathomable he seemed to others.

He Yuzhu was pleased with this outcome.

A false, powerful background is the best camouflage.

The family's life seemed to finally be back on track. He Daqing earned money at the restaurant, He Yuzhu occasionally went to the ghost market to trade for scarce goods, and Chen Lanxiang devoted herself to taking care of He Yushui. Although the dilapidated temple was simple, it had the stability of a home.

That day, a special guest came to the restaurant.

He was a middle-aged man, probably in his early forties, wearing a well-tailored dark gray suit, gold-rimmed glasses, and his hair was neatly combed. He didn't seem to be there for a meal; he looked more like he was there to discuss business.

He sat down in a corner, not looking at the menu, but just smiling gently at Fatty Liu.

"Manager, have Chef He prepare a few of his signature dishes. They should be light and delicate."

His accent wasn't heavy, but it carried a composure that came from someone who had long held a high position.

Fatty Liu didn't dare to delay and quickly ran to the kitchen to deliver the message.

He Daqing's heart skipped a beat. Having worked in the kitchen for decades, he knew exactly how to read people. These kinds of guests were either rich or powerful, and were the most difficult to please.

He dared not be careless and used all his skills to make a dish of Longjing shrimp, a dish of chicken tofu, and a dish of vegetarian roast goose, served with a bowl of clear soup.

The dishes were served.

The man ate very slowly, savoring each dish.

After finishing his meal, he wiped his mouth with a napkin and called Fatty Liu over.

"Manager, please ask Master He to come out for a moment."

He Daqing walked out with a pounding heart.

"Sir, are you satisfied with today's dishes?"

The man stood up, a smile of approval on his face: "Master He, I've long admired your name. Having tasted it today, I can confirm it truly lives up to its reputation. It's a real shame that such skill is buried in this small town."

He Daqing smiled modestly: "You flatter me, sir. I'm just trying to make a living."

"Master He is too modest," the man asked casually. "I've heard that Master He comes from a family with a long tradition of scholarship, and that his ancestors once served in the palace?"

He Daqing's heart tightened. His son had instructed him that no matter who asked, he should neither admit nor deny it, but just gloss over it.

He chuckled and said, "It's all just gossip from the neighbors, don't take it seriously, don't take it seriously."

The man gave him a deep look, his gaze behind his glasses seeming to see right through him.

He didn't ask any more questions, smiled, and took out a large denomination banknote from his wallet and placed it on the table.

"Keep the change. The extra money is for Master He's tea."

After saying that, he nodded and turned to leave.

He Daqing watched his retreating figure, a sense of unease creeping into his heart. He walked to the door and saw the man get into a black sedan. The car was gleaming, the license plate spotless, without a single mud splatter.

This kind of car, this kind of style, is definitely not for an ordinary businessman.

He Daqing's heart sank.

A few days later, the man who called himself "Mr. Tan" came again.

As usual, we ordered several elaborate dishes and, as always, left a generous tip after the meal.

They came three times in a row.

On the fourth occasion, he did not leave immediately after the meal.

He called out to He Daqing, who was about to return to the kitchen.

"Master He, may I speak to you in private?"

He pointed to the small open space in the backyard of the restaurant.

He Daqing's heart leaped into his throat. What was bound to happen had finally arrived.

He followed Mr. Tan to the backyard.

Mr. Tan offered him a cigarette. He Daqing waved his hand and said he wouldn't.

Mr. Tan lit his own cigarette, took a puff, and then slowly spoke.

"Master He, I won't beat around the bush. I'm a manager at a trading company," he said. "I greatly admire your skills and would like to hire you personally at a high salary."

He Daqing was taken aback.

"My job requires me to frequently entertain important guests," Mr. Tan said. "I need a trustworthy and skilled chef to handle my private banquets. The work is relatively easy, not every day, but the pay is definitely generous."

He held up five fingers.

"This amount. Every month. In US dollars."

He Daqing's breathing stopped.

Fifty US dollars? In this day and age, that's enough to make an ordinary family live like they're in paradise.

Mr. Tan looked at his expression and smiled with satisfaction.

"Not only that," he continued, "I can bring you and your family back to the city. I'll arrange a safe place for you to stay, and I guarantee no one will dare to cause you any trouble. Your children can also be sent to the best schools."

Back to the city.

A safe place to live.

The child goes to school.

Every word struck He Daqing's heart like a heavy hammer. Wasn't this the life he had always dreamed of?

He was tempted.

He was almost ready to nod in agreement.

But then his son's face suddenly appeared in his mind. Those eyes, so calm they didn't seem like those of a child, seemed to be reminding him of something.

He forced down his excitement and stammered, "Mr. Tan...this is...this is too big of a deal. I...I need to go home and discuss it with my family."

Mr. Tan's smile remained unchanged.

"Of course," he said. "Family comes first, I understand."

He took a business card from the inside pocket of his suit and handed it to He Daqing.

The business card only had the name "Tan Jingyao" and a phone number printed on it.

"Master He is a smart man." Mr. Tan patted He Daqing on the shoulder, his tone meaningful. "In chaotic times, people are like duckweed on the water. Only by relying on a big tree can they be stable. Not everyone is qualified to rely on such a big tree."

I'll wait for you for three days.

Give me an answer in three days.

After saying that, he turned and left.

He Daqing held the thin business card in his hand, his palms sweaty.

The business card was stiff, with sharp edges, like a knife.

He knew that this was not just a choice, but also a test.

Choose the right path and you'll rise to the top.

Choosing the wrong option could lead to an abyss.

He walked back to the dilapidated temple, his mind heavy with worry, clutching the business card.

The cold wind blew by, but he didn't feel cold.

A fire ignited in his heart—a fire of longing for a stable life.

He felt that this might be an opportunity given to the He family by God.

An opportunity to escape all difficulties and start anew.

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