Chapter 94: The Truth Comes Out

Chapter 94: The Truth Comes Out

"Chef Zhao, someone's booked out the whole place for tonight." Pang Ze came into the kitchen and said, "Here's the menu for tonight."

Zhao Yu took the menu and glanced at it—only six dishes. "One person booked the entire place? What about the private dining rooms?"

"All booked."

Fatty chimed in from the side, "Ooh, all this fuss for just one table. Which rich kid is trying to impress a girl?"

Zhao Yu shot him a look, and he immediately lowered his voice: "I haven't messed up today, and I'm all done with my work. Don't yell at me after yelling at someone else."

"I wasn't gonna yell at you." Zhao Yu slapped the menu against his chest. "Nothing too complicated on there. My hand's a little weak tonight—it's all yours."

"Don't worry, your chubby chef here's got your back." He patted his chest.

With only one table for the night, the kitchen finally got some rare downtime. At seven that evening, the guest finally showed up, and Pang Ze came back in: "Chef Zhao, the guest wants to see you."

"Looking for me?" Zhao Yu smoothed his clothes and headed out.

At the guest's request, the restaurant had been set up simply that afternoon. A vibrant yellow rose sat on the table by the window, the chandelier had been swapped out for a brighter one, and the tablecloth replaced with velvet burgundy.

The dining room was completely silent. The moment Zhao Yu came out of the kitchen, he spotted the guest sitting by the floor-to-ceiling window.

The sightseeing cruise boats on the river glowed with decorative lanterns, adding a touch of life to the stillness.

Zhao Yu walked over and said, "Mr. Gu, can I help you with anything?"

Gu Hansheng turned to look at him. Cao Xu might have a temper, but his taste was always on point—whether it came to cooking or picking out clothes. The navy-blue chef's uniform made Zhao Yu's skin look even fairer, with its single row of bronze filigree floral buttons and an apron cinched just right.

Gu Hansheng's gaze slowly traveled up to his face, and he said, "I'd like to treat you to dinner."

"Treating me to dinner at my own restaurant?" Zhao Yu pulled out a chair and sat down.

"I paid for the whole place—that's not too presumptuous, is it?"

"If you'd told me earlier you were booking the place, I would've cooked for you myself."

"I don't want you to cook."

"Why not?"

"Did you put ointment on your hand?"

"I haven't had a chance tonight."

The moment he said that, Gu Hansheng pulled out another tube of ointment, dragged a chair over to sit beside him, and took his hand to apply the medicine.

It wasn't until the ointment warmed against his sore spot that Zhao Yu realized Gu Hansheng's real purpose wasn't dinner at all.

When the order of certain things shifted in his mind, he couldn't help but think—no matter how much it hurt, Zhao Yu would still endure it in silence and keep pushing himself. So he could find his own way to make him rest.

A server came over with a tray, shot Zhao Yu a surprised look, then glanced at their clasped hands, set down the plate, and hurried off.

Zhao Yu said, "Great, now the whole restaurant's gonna gossip about me."

Gu Hansheng raised an eyebrow. "They're only starting now? Then I've been slacking."

Zhao Yu couldn't help but laugh, then asked, "Are you free on Christmas? My brother's on break—I'm planning to head to Los Angeles."

"Meng Qi?"

"Yeah."

"I have time."

After applying the ointment, Gu Hansheng still didn't let go. He looked down at his wrist, traced from wrist to palm, and finally laced their fingers together.

He wished Zhao Yu would just say "come with me to Los Angeles for Christmas" instead of deciding how to spend Christmas on his own and then asking if he was free, as if it wouldn't matter if he couldn't come.

He didn't want to be someone who didn't matter to Zhao Yu, but that unique feeling of being needed always came and went, as if Zhao Yu's love was just as fleeting.

Aside from that time long ago, when Zhao Yu was about to break things off and said he shouldn't have liked him, Zhao Yu had never said a word about liking him since.

The more he craved it, the less he dared to ask for it, the more he worried about losing it.

Before, he just wanted Zhao Yu by his side. Later, he wanted to see him smile at him. And then, he wanted clearer, more explicit love. Greed was endless—it could never be filled.

"What's on your mind? The food's getting cold," Zhao Yu said.

Gu Hansheng snapped out of it. He was about to let go when he realized, to his surprise, that Zhao Yu was holding his hand too. Just a simple response—maybe Zhao Yu himself hadn't even noticed—yet it settled his restless heart.

Zhao Yu couldn't quite figure out Gu Hansheng's moods—suddenly down, then inexplicably energized, like someone who'd worked himself into a frenzy.

Gu Hansheng sat back down, and Zhao Yu pressed, "Are you okay? Maybe you should head home early and get some rest tonight?"

"What about you?"

"You've booked out the whole place tonight—once I'm done eating, I can leave."

Zhao Yu kept his word. After dinner, he said a few words to Pang Ze and left with Gu Hansheng.

As they walked out, Gu Hansheng draped his coat over Zhao Yu's shoulders and insisted on buttoning it for him. Zhao Yu caught a few figures darting past the window and figured he was probably in for a round of gossip.

...

A month later.

On Christmas Eve, United flight UA199 flew along the northern arc of the Pacific toward Los Angeles. After sunset, the sky turned a clear blue-black, and looking out the window, you couldn't see the dark sea.

Gu Hansheng walked down the aisle, talked to a passenger, and switched to the seat he wanted.

Zhao Yu heard his voice but didn't turn around, staring coldly out the window instead.

From business class to premium economy—Gu Hansheng really didn't mind being cramped, Zhao Yu thought. He should've just bought regular economy; then Gu Hansheng wouldn't bother squeezing over here. Out of sight, out of mind.

"I messed up. I'm sorry." Gu Hansheng leaned forward, turning his head to look at him.

Hearing that, Zhao Yu put on his eye mask and started settling in for sleep.

Gu Hansheng had no choice but to go quiet, rubbing his forehead with a sigh over the mess he'd made.

He never should've sent Fang Yuming to get close to Zhou Lan. Who knew that kid would be so persistent that he actually made Zhou Lan fall for him? And when it came out that Fang Yuming was his cousin, everything went to hell.

Gu Hansheng had only wanted to keep Zhou Lan away from Zhao Yu—he'd never expected things to blow up like this.

Now that the truth had suddenly come out, he'd been shut out by Zhao Yu for days, not even getting a plane ticket booked for him.

The whole way until they landed at LAX, Zhao Yu didn't say a single word to him. Even though he'd let Zhao Yu rest his head against his shoulder while he slept, Zhao Yu woke up quickly and immediately shot him a dirty look.

Zhao Yu took a taxi and left alone. Although he had already booked a hotel, he still went to another hotel and checked into a single room for himself.

When Gu Hansheng arrived at the hotel, he looked at the huge ocean-view floor-to-ceiling windows in the suite, the romantic bathtub with a view by the window, and the Leroy red wine from Burgundy on the table, and finally sat on the bed with a sigh.

Zhao Yu put his things away and immediately went to see Meng Qi. The kid was growing like a weed—he'd shot up a lot in the few months since they'd last seen each other—but he still launched himself at Zhao Yu the moment he saw him.

The Costas, his foster family, were incredibly warm and welcoming. Zhao Yu brought gifts for all of them and was invited to stay for dinner.

It was a big family—they had three children of their own, plus Meng Qi made four. The house was pure chaos. The oldest two were bickering, then started fighting over the TV remote, chasing each other around the room.

The youngest daughter of the family loved clinging to Meng Qi, and Meng Qi clung to Zhao Yu. Pretty soon, Zhao Yu had one kid trailing him, one in his arms, and two more tugging at him to settle their arguments.

"How can you carry on like this in front of a guest?" the mother scolded, then said to Zhao Yu, "Don't mind them. They're like this every single day, never letting up. Lily, get down now. You're a big girl—don't let your brother hold you for so long."

"It's no problem. The kids are adorable." Zhao Yu smiled.

"Alright, everyone, dinner's ready!" the father urged.

Zhao Yu set the little girl down in the chair next to her mom and sat down with the family. The Christmas tree in the living room was all decked out with colorful lights—when Zhao Yu had walked in, the family was still trimming it. They put the gifts he'd brought under the tree too, saying they'd open them on Christmas Day.

Zhao Yu gazed out the window at the street and suddenly thought of Gu Hansheng, the guy he'd left behind in the taxi outside the airport.

Gu Hansheng didn't have a single friend or family member here. What was he doing all by himself right now?

Zhao Yu knew what it felt like to be lonely after being surrounded by warmth. He wondered if the cold night wind was hitting Gu Hansheng too, leaving him stranded alone on the streets of LA.

"I'm really sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Costa, but I've got something I need to take care of, so I have to head out now." Zhao Yu said as he stood up.

"What's the matter? Can't you stay for dinner?"

"Thanks, but I've got to go."

Meng Qi asked, "Bro, what do you gotta do? Want me to come along?"

Zhao Yu said, "You stay here. I'm just gonna go see a friend."

Meng Qi and the Costas walked him to the door. The littlest girl suddenly popped out from behind her mom's legs and held up a box to him.

Meng Qi glanced at it and said, "That's Lily's favorite ice cream. She probably wants you to have it."

Mrs. Costa said, "Lily, it's freezing tonight. You can't have ice cream."

"No!" the little girl insisted, her big eyes locked on Zhao Yu. "It's super good. Lily's favorite."

Zhao Yu crouched down and took the ice cream cup, smiling. "I'll make sure to eat it. Thanks."

He flagged down a cab and waved goodbye to the family as he climbed in.

It was already late. There'd been a bit of warmth earlier in the evening, but once night hit, the temperature plummeted, and everyone on the streets had traded their light jackets for thick sweaters and puffer coats.

Zhao Yu tucked the ice cream into his bag, which already had Christmas gifts from Meng Qi and the Costas in it.

He rubbed his freezing fingers and watched the streets start to look familiar, then couldn't help asking the driver to swing by a nearby Chinese neighborhood.

A small Chinese restaurant with a sign reading "Lin's Kitchen" hung above it. Since it had just been renovated, the sign was shiny and brand-new. By this hour, it was already closed.

Even so, through the glass he could still see the inside, including a painting of West Lake hanging on the wall—one that Guo Lin had loved.

Zhao Yu had stopped by once before the restaurant opened. Now, every month, after setting aside what was needed to keep the place running, all the profits went into Meng Qi's account. Even though he couldn't be there to run it himself, he was more than satisfied.

He stood at the door peering inside for a while, and was just about to leave when he suddenly noticed a figure standing not too far off.

The colorful lights wrapped around the palm trees flickered behind Gu Hansheng. Long before Zhao Yu showed up—maybe an hour, maybe two—he'd been waiting around nearby.

This was the only place, other than the hotel, where he thought he might run into Zhao Yu, so he'd been waiting here the whole time.

Even as the cold wind crept up his sleeves, even though the clothes he'd thrown on earlier were way too thin for this, he never left.