Chapter 41: A Sense of Unease

Chapter 41: A Feeling of Unease

In the middle of the night, Zhao Yu suddenly jerked awake. He'd been in the bathroom just moments ago, but when he opened his eyes again, he was already in the bedroom. The room was pitch black, yet he could feel the warmth of another person's body beside him.

As his eyes gradually adjusted to the darkness, he made out Gu Hansheng's silhouette.

Gu Hansheng had actually been patient enough to wipe him clean and carry him into the bedroom, but what felt even more absurd was that he had completely lost consciousness.

His body still felt noticeably sore, but Zhao Yu didn't lie back down immediately. Instead, he looked down at Gu Hansheng.

This man only dropped his guard and stopped being so intimidating when he was asleep, so Zhao Yu felt no pressure even up close. Though his body was exhausted—so exhausted he'd passed out—he didn't hate what had happened today.

When Gu Hansheng's hand overlapped with his, the air between them felt hot and damp. He knew the words on the mirror were from his sticky notes, and he was especially surprised that Gu Hansheng had managed to remember such a long string of words.

He couldn't have remembered them that clearly without reading them carefully. If he hadn't cared about the notes Zhao Yu left behind, he wouldn't have pushed so hard for him to keep writing them.

What exactly was Gu Hansheng thinking?

Could a liar really carve out a place in his heart? Even if it was just a small corner?

Zhao Yu slowly lowered his head, gradually holding his breath, as sneaky as a thief, until his lips were close to Gu Hansheng's lips. He felt the soft press of lips and the warmth of his breath, and smelled the same body wash on both of them.

He knew this couldn't last, but in that quiet minute, he didn't want to think about the future.

...

Zhao Yu got up early in the morning to make breakfast. Today's breakfast was a more elaborate Cantonese spread—crab meat soup dumplings, crystal shrimp dumplings, shrimp siu mai, and steamed pork ribs with taro. He brewed the black tea Gu Hansheng liked—the Jin Jun Mei from the cabinet.

He'd prepped all the ingredients the day before during his free time at Yatai, otherwise there wouldn't be enough time in the morning.

By the time Gu Hansheng came out of the bedroom, Zhao Yu was just taking the plates out of the steamer. The tea had cooled to just the right temperature.

As Gu Hansheng watched him lower his head, he spotted the hickey on the back of his neck—one he'd left when he lost control in the bathroom. Zhao Yu didn't seem to have noticed it. In this heat, Zhao Yu always wore crew-neck tees out, so the mark on his neck would definitely be visible.

That was a double-edged sword. Bad because Gu Hansheng didn't want people staring at him, and good because anyone who saw it would know not to swarm around Zhao Yu like flies.

Gu Hansheng had just sat down and hadn't even picked up his chopsticks when his phone rang. He glanced down at the caller ID, paused mid-motion, and his expression turned somewhat subtle. His gaze swept over Zhao Yu, then he stood and walked out to the courtyard, avoiding him.

That was unusual—he never avoided Zhao Yu when taking calls, no matter how important they were. He'd even argued with Gu Hong in front of Zhao Yu once, not caring if he overheard family matters.

Zhao Yu sat down at the dining table, silently watching Gu Hansheng's back in the courtyard, waiting for him to come back so they could eat.

A few minutes later, Gu Hansheng hung up, but instead of coming back to the table, he hurried out.

"Mr. Gu, aren't you eating?" Zhao Yu stood up and asked.

"Something came up." Gu Hansheng rushed off without a backward glance, not even grabbing his jacket.

The Maybach roared out of the garage, speeding toward the hospital—the doctor said Chen Xitong was starting to respond to touch and sound. It was the first time he'd shown any response.

The possibility that Chen Xitong might wake up stirred something in Gu Hansheng.

The breakfast Zhao Yu had gotten up at six to make slowly went cold. He poked the crystal wrapper of a shrimp dumpling with his chopsticks, picked it up, and shoved it in his mouth.

Who was that on the phone? Did something happen at home? What could be so important to Gu Hansheng?

Could it be...

Zhao Yu's chopsticks suddenly stabbed through a soup dumpling, and the rich crab roe spilled out, smelling fishy now that it was cold.

He suddenly didn't feel like eating anymore. He sat in silence for a bit, wanting to text Chen Li. He typed it out, deleted it, retyped it, deleted it again, and finally just asked: Has Chen Xitong woken up?

After sending the message, he put his phone face down, his heart hanging in midair.

He felt uneasy.

This wasn't right. He had no reason to feel uneasy. Chen Xitong was his own little brother, the most innocent person in all of this. He should wake up soon, and then Zhao Yu could get out of this mess with Gu Hansheng, and never have anything to do with him again.

A clean break. Erase it all, like it never happened. Give back everything that belonged to Chen Xitong.

Zhao Yu suddenly stood up, dumped the cold breakfast from the plate, then opened the fridge and took out meat and vegetables, mechanically preparing dinner for Gu Hansheng.

He hated himself for having these thoughts just because he'd been given scraps of affection.

Only when he was cooking could he shut out those thoughts, focusing only on whether the food would burn, if he'd added too much salt, if the meat would get too soft.

But the second he stopped, the unease crept back, impossible to shake.

"Ding."

His phone rang. The meat sizzled in the pan, but it couldn't drown out the text alert.

Zhao Yu gripped his chopsticks tighter, flipping the meat without looking at his phone.

A few more minutes passed, until the edges of the meat were burnt and tough enough that no one could chew them. Only then did Zhao Yu yank the stove off, annoyed as he fished the meat out.

Just watching Gu Hansheng take a call had him this worked up.

Either way, he was screwed. He dropped his chopsticks, took a deep breath, and grabbed his phone.

Chen Li: Not awake yet.

The breath he'd been holding suddenly whooshed out. Zhao Yu set his phone face down again, leaned against the table, and yanked at his hair in agony and confusion.

What the hell was he relieved about? Was he really glad Chen Xitong hadn't woken up?!

He spun around and rushed into the bathroom, filled the sink, and dunked his head in. The cold water blocked out all sound. As the air in his lungs ran out, the suffocation cleared his head, and he couldn't think at all.

He finally calmed down. When the suffocation hit its peak, he lifted his head from the water, saw his red face in the mirror, and gasped for air, looking pathetic.

One day he'd have to leave Gu Hansheng's life, and the best chance to do it had already passed. No matter how he tried to pull away now, he was bound to end up scarred.

All he could do now was leave behind a few half-decent memories—even if just for a second—better than fights, cold looks, and hate.

Even if Gu Hansheng had rushed off to see Chen Xitong today, he wouldn't ask or snoop anymore. Sometimes you just have to be smart—close your eyes, cover your ears, and pretend nothing happened.

...

Zhao Yu's back ached and his legs were sore. He barely got to sit down at work, and several times he couldn't help sneaking a hand down to rub his back and legs.

Cao Xu seemed cold and aloof, but he was actually super observant. He'd noticed Zhao Yu was off for days, so he couldn't help asking, concerned: "If you're not feeling well, take the day off and see a doctor."

"Master, I'm fine. I don't need a hospital."

"Then rest up after work. Don't go out and run yourself ragged. As a chef, your body is your bread and butter."

Zhao Yu wasn't out there running around—it was because Gu Hansheng had been coming for him every day lately. The bed was one thing, but the bathroom really wore him out. Plus, he had to get up early every morning to prep two meals, and his shifts were long. The wear and tear was unavoidable.

Cao Xu asked again: "Did you get the crystal wrapper for the shrimp dumplings I taught you yesterday to turn out right?"

Zhao Yu, thinking of the plate of shrimp dumplings he had thrown away that morning, said somewhat guiltily, "I got it done, thanks, Master."

"I have a friend who specializes in Cantonese cuisine. Next time you want to learn something, I can get him to teach you."

"Really?" Zhao Yu leaned in and whispered, "Master, I want to learn the essence of Cantonese cuisine. Does he have some secret recipe or trick?"

"You little troublemaker..." Cao Xu tapped him on the head. "Don't bite off more than you can chew!"

"Ouch!" Zhao Yu clutched his head and obediently went back to slicing potatoes.

Cao Xu never talked out of his ass—if he said he'd do something, he'd do it. Even if Zhao Yu never brought it up again, he would still have his friend teach him Cantonese cuisine.

Che Shijie was over there giving a lesson to his two apprentices. Compared to Cao Xu's learn-by-doing style, he focused more on theory, using precision tools to get the dishes just right. Zhao Yu used to eavesdrop on his classes, but not anymore.

The two masters had totally different methods, and mixing them would just mess with your head.

Later that afternoon, while Cao Xu was napping in the back, Che Shijie said to Zhao Yu, "Xiao Zhao, come give me a hand with something."

Zhao Yu had barely sat down, still zoning out about that morning, when he had to brace his back as he got up again.

Two dishes sat on the table. Che Shijie smiled and said, "Your two senior apprentices made the same dish. You've got a good palate—help me out and taste what's different."

Two senior apprentices?

He was Cao Xu's only apprentice, so where did Che Shijie suddenly get two senior brothers for him? Wasn't this stealing Cao Xu's apprentice right under his nose?

Last time when he made that sugar nest, Che Shijie had put on a show of "helping him out" but almost made things worse between them. It seemed like he was deliberately trying to drive a wedge between them.

Now, with Che Shijie being all nice to him, Zhao Yu felt more and more uneasy. Everyone in the kitchen was on Che Shijie's side; it seemed he was trying to isolate Cao Xu so he could become the sole authority in the kitchen.

Zhao Yu's first instinct was to confront Che Shijie, but he opened his mouth and then closed it again.

Everyone in the kitchen was on Che Shijie's side. Saying anything would get him nowhere and just make enemies.

The kitchen was like a mini society. Zhao Yu wasn't good at scheming and infighting. He suppressed his impulse, hesitated for a moment, and still helped Che Shijie taste the dishes. The two dishes were similar in flavor, with slight differences.

"This one has too much lemon zest, making it bitter; this one uses lemon juice instead."

Che Shijie patted him on the shoulder. "I knew I wasn't wrong about you. Keep up the good work, and one day you'll become head chef too."

He had his eye on Zhao Yu's keen palate and exceptional comprehension. Compared to his other two apprentices, he wanted to recruit Zhao Yu even more.

Zhao Yu didn't respond to that, only saying, "Thank you, Chef Che. I still have work to do, so I'll get back to it."

When no one was paying attention, Zhao Yu quietly slipped into the place where Cao Xu was resting and told him what he had discovered.

Cao Xu's expression shifted slightly, but after a moment of silence, he said, "Stop thinking about all that nonsense. Your priority is to learn your craft well. If you go out and people say that Cao Xu's apprentice only knows how to scheme and fight, I can't afford that embarrassment."

"Master, but..."

"Go practice!"

Zhao Yu had no choice but to turn and leave.