Chapter 188 - 136: No, No... Stupid Brain, Stop It
Duan Yu Yan froze for a moment as she watched Zhou Yan walk out of the kitchen carrying two plates of food.
She was five-foot-six and usually loved wearing high heels. After arriving in Jiazhou, she noticed the local young men weren’t particularly tall, so she’d made a point of switching to low-heeled boots.
But this young chef was at least six feet tall, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist. His physique was better than any TVB star’s.
She looked up at his face. He had a clean-cut buzz cut, chiseled features, and deep-set eyes. He possessed a pair of charming eyes that seemed perpetually filled with affection, and right now, they were fixed on her. Their gazes met, and he even offered her a polite smile.
’He really is quite good-looking.’
Duan Yu Yan was a worldly woman, a front-row regular at concerts in the Hong Kong Coliseum. She often accompanied her aunt, an investor, on visits to film sets, so she wasn’t the type to swoon over a handsome face.
But seeing such a young, handsome chef in a small-town eatery like this was still a bit of a surprise.
If he were grilling steaks in a high-end Western restaurant in Central, that would have seemed much more fitting.
’But! Could he be related to Grandma in some way?’
’Grandma’s long-lost grandson? My half-brother, sharing a grandma but not a grandpa? Or the grandson of her first love?’
Duan Yu Yan’s mind raced as she tried to find the answer on Zhou Yan’s face.
’Damn it!’
’He’s so handsome; it’s entirely possible he inherited Grandma’s good looks!’
’So what was Grandma’s reason for sending me to Zhang’s Braised Shop?’
’For a sibling reunion?’
’I... wouldn’t mind having another handsome, distant older brother.’
’But could my dad handle it?’
’And... will he fight me for the family inheritance later?’
In just a few short seconds, Duan Yu Yan had already scripted an entire family drama in her head.
The story even included melodramatic plot twists like her half-brother falling in love with her, only for her to bash his head in.
’Oh! What a wretched guy!’
’No, no...’
’Stop it, you stupid brain!’
’I can’t let my imagination run wild. The guy hasn’t even said a single word.’
As a fan of detective novels, sometimes she just couldn’t help having such a clever brain.
As a silent apology, she offered Zhou Yan a subtle smile in return.
Wang, who had extended the invitation, was also frozen in place. He stared at Duan Yu Yan, his mouth slightly agape, unconcealable surprise in his eyes. The hand hanging at his side even began to tremble.
’How can she... look so much like *her*?’
Sealed memories, like a disturbed pond, suddenly churned with turbulent waves.
Yan Fei glanced at Wang, then his gaze fixed warily on Zhou Yan.
Before his boss left Jiazhou, his top priority was to ensure the safety of Miss Duan and the old madam. His second priority was to prevent any lowlifes from getting ideas about Miss Duan.
Yan Fei’s monthly salary of eight hundred yuan was equal to what his buddies from the service made in a year and a half. He cherished this job.
His boss had promised that when Miss Qiu returned to Xiangjiang safe and sound, he would receive a handsome bonus.
He and his wife had already picked out a house in Rongcheng; they were just waiting for the bonus to pull the trigger.
Just in the past few weeks, he’d chased away a double-digit number of punks from around the Qiu Family’s Old Mansion. Any passing hoodlum who stared for a second too long would get a slap or two for their trouble.
All he could see was that bonus.
So, the moment Zhou Yan smiled at Miss Duan, Yan Fei had him marked.
However, Zhou Yan was in a completely different league from the street punks. He was tall, and he was handsome.
When other men admit a guy is handsome, you know he’s the real deal.
’I’ll just have to watch him for now.’
Zhou Yan heard Wang’s words and said to the chic young lady from Hong Kong with a smile, "Comrade, you might want to consider Wang’s offer. Of course, sharing tables for lunch and dinner is entirely voluntary. It’s first come, first served."
With her Gucci bag, Cartier watch, and bodyguard in tow, the first person who came to Zhou Yan’s mind was the daughter of the Hong Kong Businessman from the Qiu Family’s Old Mansion on East Main Street.
’What a coincidence. He hadn’t even gone looking for her yet, and here she was, right on his doorstep.’
’If I don’t seize this opportunity, how am I going to pull strings and find a connection next time?’
’Nervous about meeting a wealthy young lady?’
’Not in the slightest!’
’As a foodie influencer known for his looks, he’d had plenty of encounters with rich young ladies and socialites after becoming famous.’
’Of course, most of his experience was limited to superficial flirting on WeChat; he had far less experience with face-to-face encounters.’
’But fortunately, he was thick-skinned and not the least bit intimidated.’
’A single ’Comrade’ would be enough to establish his image as a simple, honest local youth.’
"Comrade?" Duan Yu Yan was a bit surprised. The only other time she’d been addressed that way was in Rongcheng, when she and her father met a senior official in his fifties.
People usually called her Miss Duan. Some of the older women called her "sweetie," and others called her "sis."
Hearing Zhou Yan call her "Comrade" felt unexpectedly special.
She was even starting to feel guilty.
’Stupid brain, how could you have vilified this comrade so badly!’
Duan Yu Yan glanced at the empty table. It was directly facing the kitchen entrance. If she sat there, she should be able to see inside—which meant she could watch the chef at work.
She wanted to get a good look at Zhou Yan anyway.
Then she looked at the old man again.
The old man was tall and thin, with a ramrod-straight posture. He wore black-rimmed glasses, and his face was covered in fine lines. His white hair was impeccably combed to one side. He must have been quite handsome when he was young.
He wore an indigo Mao suit, faded from countless washings, with several patches on the elbows and knees. On his feet was a pair of cloth shoes with thick, hand-stitched soles. He didn’t look shabby; instead, he seemed clean and tidy, with a scholarly air about him.
Duan Yu Yan subconsciously stood a little straighter. She saw a resemblance to Professor Luo from her university’s Chinese department in the old man, and a natural flicker of respect appeared in her eyes.