Agent Yi Leng - Chapter 2 - The Struggling Yumei Restaurant

Chapter 2: The Struggling Yumei Restaurant

Before Yao Yao could wait for Yi Leng to take out his iron bar and smash the three bully girls into a pulp, a mountain bike screeched to a halt. A long leg planted firmly on the ground, and its owner—a handsome boy—raised his brow. “Are you bullying people again?”

The three girls, who had just been arrogant and domineering, immediately turned into obedient lambs. They jumped out of the car and helped Yi Nuan Nuan pick up her lunchbox. One of the girls with almond-shaped eyes even took the scattered rice and placed it back in the lunchbox, pretending to be concerned. “Oh, Yi Nuan Nuan, you’re so careless. Don’t you know it’s slippery on the snowy road?”

The other plump girl also spoke up, “Yes, why don’t we give you a ride?”

The third, a skinny girl, added, “By the way, how come your parents didn’t drive you today in this snow?”

Yi Nuan Nuan stiffened. “It’s not polite to hit someone’s face or expose their shortcomings,” she thought. They were clearly targeting her weak points.

“No need, thanks,” she replied politely, keeping her manners even though they were venomous.

She took her lunchbox, but the rice was mixed with dirty snow and could no longer be eaten.

The boy glanced at them, kicked the mountain bike and rode off.

The three girls no longer paid any attention to Yi Nuan Nuan and got back in their cars, leaving her behind. In front of the road, an uncle was shoveling snow with an iron bar, blocking half of the road. The other half was obstructed by snow piles, forcing them to pass through a narrow passage.

This passage was icy, and oil had been sprinkled on the ice. One by one, three electric bikes fell, and the three girls tumbled off, their backpacks scattering books everywhere. Luckily, they were bundled up for winter, and there were no serious injuries. The uncle seemed oblivious, as he turned and scooped a shovel of dirty snow toward them. The girls couldn’t help but curse in anger, “Are you blind?!”

“Whose child is this? Did you eat breakfast in the outhouse? Watch your filthy mouth!” The uncle wore an old military coat, looking unapproachable, the type of person who wasn’t easily messed with.

The three girls had been bullying classmates, but when faced with this kind of street tough, they could only shrink away.

Yi Nuan Nuan passed by them and felt a sense of satisfaction inside.

What she didn’t know was that the fierce-looking uncle, just moments ago, was now watching her back with a loving gaze.

Yi Leng was a man of strategy. He couldn’t directly intervene to help his daughter take revenge, but with a small scheme, he could still make them pay. Returning to the restaurant, he saw a fat man staring at him. Plastic bags filled with vegetables were scattered on the ground.

Without asking, Yi Leng knew this man was the head chef of Yumei Restaurant. It was a common rule for chefs to buy the ingredients; they earned extra money through this task.

“What are you doing?” the chef asked, his tone unfriendly.

“I’m the cousin of Yumei’s owner,” Yi Leng replied, not needing to think twice when dealing with this kind of character.

“I didn’t know someone was coming,” the fat man said. Although his words were dismissive, he had already believed him. He took out a cigarette, lit it, and didn’t offer Yi Leng one. “Take the vegetables inside. I’ve got things to do.”

Yi Leng smiled faintly. He didn’t need to guess; the reason why Yumei Restaurant was on the verge of closing down was the fat man, and he suspected there was also a female staff member involved with him.

Sure enough, at around 9 o’clock, Wu Yumei came to the restaurant with a girl named Xiaohong. Xiaohong was Wu Yumei’s fellow townswoman, working as a waitress and part-time cashier at the restaurant.

Upon entering the restaurant, Wu Yumei could hardly believe her eyes. The place was spotless, shining like new. The kitchen, a place usually associated with mess and grease, was sparkling clean. The countertops were free of oil stains, spider webs were gone from the corners, and even the ventilation fan blades gleamed. The ground, once covered in years of grime, now revealed its original color.

Yi Leng stood by, watching Wu Yumei’s reaction with a smile.

“You’re too capable,” Wu Yumei said, amazed. She had never met a man so willing to work, especially in a restaurant. He was a rare breed, an oddity.

“Can’t eat your noodles for free,” Yi Leng replied.

“This is too much…” Wu Yumei took out 100 yuan and then added 200 more, handing it over to him.

She seemed to be preparing to settle the bill for the meal. In her view, this was a fair gesture for a meal.

“I’m not lacking in money,” Yi Leng didn’t accept the money. He could tell she was an experienced woman, and he didn’t need to play games. Genuine sincerity was enough.

“You need a place to stay, right? You came down from the mountain?” Wu Yumei asked.

Yi Leng nodded, his eyes filled with sadness and sorrow. “I went to university for four years. My wife died in a car accident, and I never got to see her one last time.”

Wu Yumei bit her lip. “Old Huang, I won’t hide it from you. My small restaurant is about to go under. I can’t afford to hire anyone.”

Yi Leng replied, “A place to eat and stay is enough for me. A person like me doesn’t have anything else to ask for.”

Wu Yumei was straightforward, replying immediately, “Then you stay here for now. The rent is due in a month and a half. You can eat and stay at the restaurant until then.”

“Deal,” Yi Leng agreed without mentioning wages. She was right; in a small restaurant like this, three people were enough. He was the extra one.

In the morning, when business was slow, Xiaohong was playing on her phone behind the counter, while Yi Leng and Wu Yumei worked together in the kitchen. Wu Yumei talked a lot, and without Yi Leng needing to ask, she revealed her background.

She wasn’t from this area; her life had been full of ups and downs. She had run a clothing factory in the south before falling in love with a man and coming to Jiangwei to start a business. Her husband passed away last year, and she couldn’t go back to her hometown. This little restaurant was her last resort.

“Recently, it’s been strange. Business is good, but I’m not making any money,” Wu Yumei said. “I’m surrounded by a huge shipyard with thousands of workers, yet I’m still on the brink of closing. It must be bad luck and a lack of fortune.”

Yi Leng didn’t want to discuss other people’s faults, but he had a suspicion about the chef and Xiaohong’s involvement in stealing money. He glanced at the iron pots hanging on the wall and said, “Maybe the pot isn’t working properly.”

Wu Yumei said, “Then please help me fix it.”

“Do you have any old pots?” Yi Leng asked.

Wu Yumei found a rusty iron pot, heavy and unused. It was said to be a high-quality Zhanqiu pot, but the chef didn’t like how heavy it was and abandoned it.

Yi Leng started working, using strong fire to season the pot, cleaning it, and then heating it with oil until it smoked. The process wasn’t a secret; the key lay in how skilled one was.

Yi Leng’s movements were practiced and smooth, like a man with years of experience. Watching him work, Wu Yumei was left in awe.

Once the pot was ready, Wu Yumei said, “I still have some leftover clothing from my old business. You don’t have any spare clothes, so let me give you some.”

“Thank you, boss,” Yi Leng accepted her kindness. She was a good boss, but too kind, which made her vulnerable to being taken advantage of by the chef.

As Wu Yumei went to get the clothes, Yi Leng thought about his daughter’s lunchbox, and his heart ached. Eating rice with pickles was already pitiful enough, but now it had been spilled on the ground. As a father, he couldn’t allow his daughter to go hungry while he worked at the restaurant.

—

The kitchen was stocked with all kinds of ingredients. Yi Leng quickly sprang into action. During his time in prison, he often fantasized about returning home to cook for his wife and children. He had hundreds of recipes in his mind, especially the lunchboxes his daughter made, which had to be perfect in color, aroma, and taste.

The kitchen knife flew through the air, the fiery wok sizzled with oil, and with a flurry of swift movements, Yi Leng’s heartfelt dish was ready. He carefully packed it into an insulated box, then grabbed a pack of cigarettes from the counter and asked Xiao Hong to charge it to the account. After that, he left the restaurant and headed straight for the local school.

During class hours, no one was allowed to enter the school, but Yi Leng didn’t need to. He had found the textbooks that had fallen off a scooter, which belonged to his daughter, Yi Nuannuan. From there, he figured out her class and knew what to do—just take care of the gatekeeper.

Yi Leng had received professional training and was excellent at quickly establishing rapport with people. A few words and a cigarette were enough to convince the gatekeeper to hand over the insulated box to Yi Nuannuan’s class, explaining that it was a matter arranged by her grandfather.

“I know that child,” the gatekeeper said, lighting his second cigarette and tucking it behind his ear. “She just transferred here. Her grandfather used to work in the factory. Her parents are gone… sigh.”

When Yi Leng returned to Yumei Restaurant, Wu Yumei was back too, bringing a pile of outdated clothes. As someone who had worked in the clothing industry, her sense of size was spot on, and the clothes fit Yi Leng perfectly.

Just then, the fat chef came back and saw how harmonious Yi Leng and Wu Yumei were, and his expression turned sour.

“Boss, why didn’t you tell me your cousin was coming?” the fat chef asked sarcastically.

“My cousin is not your cousin, why should I give you a heads-up?” Wu Yumei shot him a glare and smoothly covered for Yi Leng’s lie.

“So, what’s your cousin responsible for here?” the fat chef pressed.

“I help out with everything,” Yi Leng replied. “I can do a bit of everything—red and white dishes, wok, noodle pots, cold dishes—just some basics.”

“Oh, so you’ve been trained,” the fat chef said, his gaze full of hostility, like a wild boar whose territory had been encroached upon.

“A half-hearted level from being self-taught,” Yi Leng smiled, knowing the fat chef was easy to deal with. If he wanted to, he could easily handle him.

“This is Kang Peng, our head chef,” Wu Yumei introduced. “Cousin, learn from him.”

Yi Leng understood. As the conversation deepened, he realized Wu Yumei was sharp. Even if she didn’t see the little scheme between Kang Peng and Xiao Hong, she could feel the chef’s irresponsibility. The soul of a restaurant lies in the chef, and it seemed like Wu Yumei didn’t have any better options. Now that “cousin” was here, Yumei Restaurant was about to change.

At the same time, inside Zidi Middle School, after the last class in the morning, the gatekeeper personally delivered the insulated box to Class 2, Grade 5, and handed it to the bewildered Yi Nuannuan.

“Your grandfather sent this,” the gatekeeper said.

“Thank you,” Yi Nuannuan politely replied, though she didn’t believe it. Her grandfather was a quiet, retired technician who didn’t understand emotional expression, let alone caring for others. He would never be thoughtful enough to send her a lunch. But who else could have made it?

She couldn’t help but think of Feng Xiaoxiao, the boy who had helped her out earlier in the morning.

Though only in second year, and just fourteen or fifteen, the school’s social hierarchy was even more straightforward and cruel than society’s. Students were not only judged by their grades and looks but also by their parents’ administrative rank, social status, and wealth.

Jiangwei was a narrow, east-to-west city, and the shipyard area on the eastern coast was home to most of the population, so the status in the shipyard was an important reference.

Feng Xiaoxiao’s father, Ma Xiaowei, was the deputy chief engineer, with a high rank and a lot of power. Feng Xiaoxiao took his mother’s surname, and his mother, Feng Li, was the only daughter of the former factory director. As a result, Feng Xiaoxiao was the top “idol” in the school.

Yi Nuannuan, who was from Jinjiang, hadn’t yet adjusted to this system of social status. She simply thought Feng Xiaoxiao was handsome, righteous, and thus considered him her “idol.”

The three girls who often bullied Yi Nuannuan had parents who were either mid-level officials in the shipyard or private business owners reliant on the shipyard. Although young, they had an acute sense of the “smell of poverty” on their classmates.

Poverty was the original sin. If your parents were poor, you were bullied as a result. There were also children whose parents were so busy with work that they neglected them, creating a poor parent-child relationship, which made them vulnerable targets for bullying.

Yi Nuannuan was the perfect example of both. Her parents had passed away, her grandparents were elderly, and she lived in an old housing complex. She struggled in school, wore glasses and braces, and used a hearing aid. She was literally the perfect target for bullying.

Among the three girls, the leader was named Yin Weiran, said to be a distant relative of Gao Ming, the chief engineer. The chubby one was named Jian Shiyu, whose father worked in engineering. The slim one was Mei Xin. Together, they called themselves “Yijianmei” (One Cut Plum). Their greatest joy, besides idolizing their “best brother,” was bullying classmates.

When Yin Weiran casually glanced around, she noticed Yi Nuannuan’s desk now had an insulated box. Suspicious, she whispered something to her two friends.

“Yi Nuannuan changed her box, wonder what’s inside?”

“Nothing fancy, given her background, probably pickled vegetables instead of salty ones.”

“Still, how dare she bring it out.”

Yin Weiran glanced again and saw Yi Nuannuan leaving the classroom with the box. An idea popped into her head, and she whispered to Jian Shiyu, “She knows it’s embarrassing. You go grab it and show it to the class so she can feel humiliated.”

“Got it!” Jian Shiyu, a tall and hefty girl, blocked Yi Nuannuan’s path and grabbed the box.

“Give it back!” Yi Nuannuan stretched her hand out in vain.

Jian Shiyu tossed the box to Mei Xin, who ran over to hand it to Yin Weiran.

Yin Weiran held up the box, her expression filled with glee and unmasked contempt. “Come and see, Yi Nuannuan’s embarrassing lunch.”

“Maybe it’s a full-course banquet,” Jian Shiyu joked.

“More likely it’s just rice and pickled vegetables,” Mei Xin added.

Yi Nuannuan bit her lip, enduring the humiliation from the three girls.

Yin Weiran smirked as she opened the box, only to freeze in surprise.

Inside was a beautifully arranged Christmas-themed meal. The rice was shaped into a smiling face, with a red carrot peel making a Santa Claus hat, surrounded by lettuce and shiso leaves, and garnished with halved boiled eggs, heart-shaped tomatoes, bright green broccoli, thick slices of salmon with alternating orange and white colors, and crispy golden-fried pork chops.

“Damn…” Yin Weiran looked at her own lunch, which had pig’s head meat and braised intestines, and suddenly felt hers wasn’t so appetizing.

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