Sweet Wife in My Arms

It couldn't have been his relatives, since they were all back in the village. Could it be that…? Cold sweat beaded on his forehead. Could it be that he dropped his hair into the food while he was cooking, and someone complained about it?

Not likely. If that had been the case, he would have gotten an upbraiding from his manager already. Instead, he had come and talked to him nicely.

As his troubled mind explored the possibilities, he reached the lobby.

From a distance, he saw a man seated with a pot of tea before him, sipping at it casually. He wore a sweater and suit pants, and his boots were polished to a sheen.

Liu Hao couldn't get a clear view of his looks, but he could tell the man had a refined air, like one of those CEOs in dramas. These were the type of people that he and the other cooks had to be very careful around.

Nervously, he walked forward and stood still before the man, not daring to move or talk. The man lifted his teacup. His movements, deft and decisive, betokened good breeding. There was an air of elegance around him.

The man suddenly turned around and sized him up coolly.

"You must be Liu Hao," he began.

Liu Hao nodded stiffly.

"Yes… Sir. Are you looking for me?"

"Mhm…" the man set down his cup. The cup had left an imprint in his palm, and he began tracing it with a finger. They were slightly hands. Large with slender fingers. Suddenly self-conscious, Liu Hao hid his own hands behind him.

His hands had been soaked in cold water all year round, since the very day he started as a chef. Cooking was a tough job, despite what most people might think about it. It wasn't about putting on a white chef hat and doing cool flips with the pan. To be a chef meant dealing with fire and water all day.

He had to put out a large number of dishes every day, working with a heavy wok. If he was weak in the arms, he wouldn't even be able to lift it.

Man made better chefs not because of technique, but simply because of strength.

"Are you from Chengjia Village? The one in South City," inquired the man.

"Yes, Sir," nodded Liu Hao. "That's my hometown. It's the only village in that city."

His village was situated in the middle of the mountain, an awfully inconvenient place. During winters, it was virtually impossible to descend the mountain. All in all, it was a hard place to live in. In a sense, they were self-sufficient.

He was one of the few youngsters from the village that left the village to work. While he was working part-time, he met a nice chef who taught him how to cook. He then became a kitchen assistant. From there, he worked his way up to become a chef. In a few years, he could even become the head chef. If that happens, he would see a significant increase to his salary.

Lu Yi studied him coolly. This must be his guy. He matched the descriptions. There wasn't much he could find out about Chenjia Village, except that it was a poor village situated in the middle of nowhere.

"Got your ID?" asked Lu Yi. This was always his way of doing things. He relied on facts, not his gut feelings.

Cold, hard facts.

"Yes, Sir," said Liu Hao. He handed over his ID meekly. Even he could not say why he did that. He felt as though he was under investigation. Perhaps it was the solemnity in Lu Yi's tone.

Lu Yi took it and glanced at it. The place, name, and appearance all matched.

This was the man he was looking for.

He took out a card and placed it before Liu Hao.

"Recognize her?"

Liu Hao picked up the card. Only then did he realize it wasn't a card. It was an ID.

When he saw the name and photo on the ID, his pupils shrunk.

"Sir… this…" he pointed to the ID, all spooked out. Didn't this ID belong to…

"You know her."

Lu Yi leaned back and took a sip of his tea. It was lukewarm, and a little bitter, but still drinkable.

He had learned to judge the quality of tea from Old Master Lu, a tea connoisseur who had loved tea and tea only for all his life.

"I… I do," Liu Hao raised a hand to wipe the cold sweat off his face. He was aghast.

"Sir, this is my sister Liu Hua. She passed away last year. Back in our village, we don't have the custom of cancelling passports, so her ID never got destroyed. I can assure you that she's dead, though."

His little sister was mentally disabled from birth, and they had long decided to take care of her for the rest of life. None of them had expected it when she suddenly passed away last winter.

And now, someone was looking for him with his little sister's ID.

What on earth is going on?

Lu Yi took out another card.

This time, it was a bank card.

"There's one million yuan inside. It's yours," he said as he tossed it on the table. Liu Hao picked it up stiffly. A million yuan? For him?

For a long time, he couldn't make sense of what was going on. This was all too odd.

"But, Sir… Why would you give this to me? We don't know each other, do we?" The bank card made him uneasy. Why would someone give him a million yuan out of the blues? Was he plotting something? Was he going to make him do something illegal? But he was just a poor chef with nothing!

Lu Yi stood up and put on his coat. He handed his name card to Liu Hao.

"Call me if you run into any trouble. Take this card as a token of gratitude. Your parents have saved my wife," he said. "A million yuan might be a lot to you, but to me, it's worth less than a strand of my wife's hair."

And that was the truth. Even ten million was nothing in comparison to Yan Huan's life. But he had his reasons for not giving him too much. Give a man too much money and you'll be ruining him, not helping him.