Chapter 4: Crispy Fried Crab Claws

Chapter 4 Crispy Fried Crab Pincers

Yun Fan quickly recalled that the disheveled young master, now staring at the cup in his hand like a Husky, was Wen Zhaofu's half-brother.

Wen Zhaofu's father, Wen Qichang, currently served as the chairman of the Wen Group's board of directors. Though he held the position, he hardly did any work. It was much like how, despite being Wen Zhaofu's father in name, he had never been a good dad to him.

"Big brother, I'm so mad!" Wen Haochen slumped dejectedly on the table. "They cheated me out of my money and even beat me up."

Wen Zhaofu glanced at him, looking rather helpless. Zuzu, on the other hand, simply savored her tea, staying completely out of the brothers' affairs.

This had even less to do with Yun Fan. He stirred his drink with a small spoon, then gently lifted the little cup adorned with auspicious cloud patterns and took a careful sip.

Instantly, the aromas of tea, milk, and coffee blended together, spreading from his tongue throughout his mouth.

"School Director Chen has already told me," Wen Zhaofu said, briefly glancing at Yun Fan. Noticing that Yun Fan had taken several sips of the milk tea, he averted his gaze again. "If Father isn’t taking care of you, you could’ve come to me. What possessed you to get into a physical fight? Luckily it was just with classmates—if it had been with outsiders…"

"Dad is always like this!" Wen Haochen said angrily. "So I went to handle it myself."

Wen Zhaofu called Shi Ning, and soon enough, Yun Fan saw the narrow-eyed doctor again. Doctor Shi efficiently treated Wen Haochen’s wounds, applying firm pressure. As Wen Haochen hissed and groaned in pain, Zuzu chuckled, and Wen Zhaofu’s expression softened slightly.

It turned out Wen Haochen had been scammed while trying to buy caviar. He was told it came from 12-year-old carp, but what he received was artificial.

Wen Zhaofu leaned back slightly, clasping his hands over his stomach. "How much?"

"Three thousand six hundred per gram," Wen Haochen replied softly from the sofa.

At first, Yun Fan thought that for a wealthy family, this amount should be affordable.

"What currency?" Wen Zhaofu sat up straight, fixing his gaze on Wen Haochen.

Wen Haochen shrank under his brother’s stare, his voice trembling. "P-Pounds sterling. I didn’t think it would taste that great, so I only bought ten grams."

The room went silent. Even Zuzu, who had been sipping her milk tea, looked up and stared sternly at Wen Haochen.

Geez, even with plenty of money, you shouldn’t throw it around like that! Yun Fan’s little spoon clattered against the bottom of his cup.

Just as tensions were rising, a heavy metal box suddenly appeared to Yun Fan’s left. He looked closely and saw it was being handed to him by Doctor Shi.

Doctor Shi slightly lifted his chin, and understanding the gesture, Yun Fan passed the box to Wen Zhaofu on his right.

Wen Zhaofu, who had been rapidly organizing his thoughts to deliver a stern criticism to Wen Haochen, was taken aback by the box. He looked at the pale hand offering it and instinctively accepted.

When Wen Haochen widened his eyes and saw his own brother personally throw the box at him, he was too stunned to speak.

He caught the box squarely with his shoulder. With a crisp sound, it fell to the ground but surprisingly didn’t break open.

Yun Fan was extremely curious. Doctor Shi voluntarily explained, "It’s filled with small stones. The box is glued shut. I use it for self-defense."

"Wow—" Wen Haochen, a 22-year-old man, burst into tears and buried his face in Zuzu’s embrace.

In the past, Wen Zhaofu had always preferred words to actions, adhering to the principles of a gentleman and persuading with reason. Why had he resorted to violence today?

The physical pain was secondary; the emotional whiplash was something the young master couldn’t accept.

Wen Zhaofu couldn’t explain his behavior either. Under Zuzu’s gaze, he rubbed his palms together and said lightly, "That was long overdue."

"I think so too," Doctor Shi added.

"Wow—You’re all bullying me!" Wen Haochen got up, wiped his tears angrily, and stormed off.

Yun Fan stared blankly at Wen Haochen’s departing figure, taking a moment to process what had happened. Zuzu looked at him apologetically. "Xiao Yun, apologies for that scene."

"Not at all, not at all," Yun Fan hurriedly replied.

As for the family affairs of a wealthy household, he didn’t dare casually comment. He’d maintained this professional discretion since he first started working.

A brief silence served as a break. Zuzu looked at Yun Fan and slowly said, "I will give you a parcel of land. You can choose the location yourself."

Yun Fan’s eyes lit up, and he unconsciously sat up straighter. This excitement did not escape Wen Zhaofu’s notice.

"However," Zuzu continued, shifting her tone, "you need to work here for one year."

"Sure!" Yun Fan agreed quickly.

Wen Zhaofu continued observing Yun Fan expressionlessly, his thumb stroking the wheelchair handle. Since Zuzu said one year, he couldn’t raise any objections.

But one year… wasn’t that a bit short?

Yun Fan calculated inwardly—free land had fallen from the sky! He could really go home and farm! Just one year, and then he could take the separation package and happily make his exit.

He understood that Zuzu wanted him and the old butler to keep each other in check, but he planned to drift through.

If he just went with the flow, the year would pass quickly.

Zuzu smiled and said she needed to rest. Yun Fan followed Wen Zhaofu to see Doctor Shi off, and then they returned to Langyun Terrace together.

*

Early the next morning, when the old butler saw Yun Fan, he pulled him into a corner and whispered, "Last night, when you met the matriarch, what did you do?"

Yun Fan thought for a moment and decided to save some face for Wen Haochen, omitting the part where he got hit. "I enjoyed yuanyang milk tea made by Mr. Zhaofu together with Zuzu."

Hearing this, the old butler immediately became agitated. "What are you saying! That’s so disrespectful! How could you refer to the matriarch that way, and how could you…"

His exclamation was so sharp that Yun Fan frowned. "Butler Cheng, if your voice gets any louder, Mr. Zhaofu will come out hearing you."

The old butler quickly covered his mouth, glared at Yun Fan, and hurried away.

As per the old butler’s instructions, Yun Fan needed to get Wen Zhaofu up. How exactly to do it, he hadn’t specified. So Yun Fan knocked on Wen Zhaofu’s bedroom door and pressed his ear to it, listening carefully.

Before long, Yun Fan heard a faint click, followed by Wen Zhaofu’s voice from inside. "Xiao Yun, come in."

Yun Fan was still feeling accomplished for successfully waking Wen Zhaofu, unaware that this was the first time Wen Zhaofu had allowed anyone into his bedroom in the morning.

Previously, the old butler would simply knock on the door, and Wen Zhaofu would make his way down in his wheelchair for meals.

Wen Zhaofu was truly busy. When Yun Fan entered, he saw him already seated at his desk going over documents.

"Good morning, sir," Yun Fan said with a smile.

Wen Zhaofu glanced outside the window—there was no sun, yet Yun Fan’s voice and demeanor made him feel as though a beam of light had sharpened his awareness amid the morning birdsong.

"Did you sleep well last night?" Wen Zhaofu regained his focus, shifting his attention to the tablet.

Yun Fan nodded. "Very well. The mattress was neither too soft nor too hard."

"That’s good." Wen Zhaofu cleared his throat, pausing briefly before adding, "Cheng Yu is coming over tonight. His meal…"

Here, Wen Zhaofu leaned back slightly and massaged the bridge of his nose. "Go discuss with Uncle Man in the kitchen. I’ll be hosting him at dinner tonight."

"Sure thing!" Yun Fan replied cheerfully.

Yun Fan was delighted to go to the kitchen. So far, the workload in this wealthy household wasn't even a fraction of his previous workload, and he was adapting quite well.

Wen Zhaofu didn’t know what he was so happy about, but just hearing his voice made him couldn't help smiling.

Yun Fan was about to leave, but as he reached the door, he turned back and asked, “Um, sir, do you need me to help you change clothes?”

At that moment, Wen Zhaofu was still in his loungewear. Though his hair wasn’t messy, he didn't look as put-together as during the day.

“No need,” Wen Zhaofu said gently.

Yun Fan thought it might be because they weren’t familiar enough, so he insisted, “It’s fine, we’re both guys.”

Wen Zhaofu’s smile deepened. “You can go ahead.”

“Alright,” Yun Fan tilted his head and waved at Wen Zhaofu.

Wen Zhaofu thought to himself, not yet—he was afraid of scaring Yun Fan.

*

Yun Fan found the chef, Uncle Man, in the kitchen.

The kitchen of a wealthy household was indeed extraordinary—it was as big as the whole apartment he'd shared with others. Everything was spotless, and there were kitchen tools he had only seen on food blogs.

Uncle Man was scratching his head and gave a forced smile when Yun Fan entered.

Yun Fan thought to himself, it seemed the young master arriving from Shanghai had particular tastes for a reason.

“Every time Young Master Cheng visits, I lose handfuls of hair,” Uncle Man sighed. “But this time, he didn’t make many demands. He just said he wanted to eat crab.”

“I plan to make crispy fried crab claws—crunchy on the outside, tender and soft inside. It’s quite labor-intensive, but it’s perfect for Young Master Cheng.”

Uncle Man rubbed his hands together confidently, and Yun Fan quickly gulped. “It sounds delicious!”

This new little butler was not only good-looking but also seemed quick-witted, really clicking with Uncle Man.

“Then stop by around 3 p.m. to taste the dishes!”

Yun Fan’s eyes lit up immediately, and he put his hands together. “Thank you, Uncle Man!”

Encouraged by Yun Fan’s enthusiasm, Uncle Man threw himself into cooking and prepared a table laden with dishes.

In the evening, Cheng Yu returned in Wen Zhaofu’s car.

Yun Fan and the old butler waited at the entrance and saw a handsome young man stride out of the car.

Cheng Yu was dressed in a well-fitted suit and wore a pair of gold-rimmed glasses. The lines of his profile were as sharp as he appeared.

Yun Fan couldn’t help but admire him inwardly—definitely elite.

Just as Yun Fan was about to deliver his welcome greeting, a loud “meow” came from the blue bag Cheng Yu was carrying.

Author’s note:

Young Master Cheng makes a dazzling entrance [hiding face while peeking].