Chapter Twelve: First Encounter with Qin Huairu

The moment he heard this, Yan Bugui wasn’t about to simply let Chen Liang walk right in. He quickly propped his bicycle to the side and grinned so broadly that his face resembled a swaying foxtail.

“Hey, hey, Chen Liang, don’t bother going to Shazhu. I can make braised pork just as well. Why not come to my place instead?”

Goodness! Truly, Yan Bugui lived up to his reputation—able to squeeze two ounces of meat from a mosquito flying by. He shamelessly tried to take advantage at every turn.

“You? Forget it! Plenty of people know how to make braised pork. If I could just pick anyone, would I be looking for Shazhu?” Chen Liang retorted without hesitation. The nerve of this old man! Given how rarely his family had meat—maybe once a year at best—the braised pork he made was probably barely edible, hardly what one would call a delicacy.

Shooting Yan Bugui a disdainful glance, Chen Liang walked past him. Really, before trying to take advantage, he should at least consider his own skills.

“Hey, you boy, you really don’t know a good offer when you see one. Shazhu charges a fortune for his cooking, but my family would only ask for a pound of meat!” Yan Bugui shouted after him, still unwilling to give up.

“Save your breath! If Shazhu charges high, he’s got his reasons. As for your place—charging a pound of meat? I wouldn’t go even if it were free!” Chen Liang shot back without even turning his head.

Seeing his opportunity slip away, Yan Bugui muttered under his breath, “As if I’d do it for nothing. Rice, oil, and salt all cost money!”

Suddenly, a loud pounding on the door made Shazhu, who was trying to nap, irritable. “Who is it? Can’t a man get some sleep around here?”

“Open the door! It’s me, Chen Liang!” came a voice from outside, making Shazhu jolt upright. Damn, what did this guy want this early in the morning? He hadn’t provoked him lately, had he?

Puzzled, Shazhu threw on some clothes, slipped into his shoes, and with hair sticking up in every direction, opened the door. “Chen Liang, what do you want this early?”

“Look at you, all smug. Let’s talk inside,” Chen Liang replied, not bothering with pleasantries. He pushed the door open and strode in.

He glanced around. As expected, the place was the very definition of a greasy bachelor’s den—messy as could be, with dirty clothes and worn socks scattered everywhere.

He set the meat on the table, scooped the pile of clothes off the chair, and dumped them back onto the bed.

“Shazhu, do me a favor and whip up a plate of braised pork.” Chen Liang plopped down and pointed at the pork on the table, his tone leaving no room for negotiation.

“Hey! Chen Liang, is this how you ask someone for a favor?” Shazhu was a man with a temper, and he was immediately displeased.

Chen Liang wasn’t about to back down. “What’s your problem, Shazhu? Itching for a fight again? Want to step outside and settle this?”

If it had been anyone else, Shazhu would have made them taste his fists. But Chen Liang was another story—the guy was a menace, tough as nails and utterly reckless. Shazhu still remembered being thrown flat on his back years ago, handled as easily as a chick. The war god of the courtyard, Shazhu, wisely cooled his temper.

Hell, why bother with a blockhead?

If only Chen Liang could hear Shazhu’s thoughts—he’d surely spit in his face. As if Shazhu wasn’t a fool himself, raising someone else’s son for nothing.

On his very first day after transmigrating, Chen Liang realized he’d landed in the world of “Memories of the Courtyard.” He was quite familiar with this TV series. Don’t think being an undercover cop meant he didn’t watch TV dramas—he’d seen every episode. In fact, when he’d watched it, the show wasn’t even called “Memories of the Courtyard,” but “Shazhu.”

It was said that when “Shazhu” first aired, it caused an uproar—the entire courtyard was filled with villains, and the plot was enough to turn anyone’s stomach. The show was swiftly taken off the air, and the production team spent the night reshooting and editing, making drastic changes before it was finally renamed “Memories of the Courtyard” and allowed back on television.

“Alright, you want braised pork, right?” Shazhu ignored the challenge and changed the subject.

“Let’s be clear. When I cook for people, a table costs three yuan. If it’s just one dish, there’s no fee—but I’ll charge half the cost of the ingredients.”

He picked up the meat on the table. “Wow, this pork belly is top-notch!” He weighed it in his hand. “About three pounds. For you, Chen Liang, I’ll just take a pound as payment for the ingredients. How’s that sound?”

“Fine! I’m not one to take advantage of others. Charge me what it’s worth.” Chen Liang had already resigned himself to bleeding a little for Shazhu’s cooking, and it wasn’t worth owing a favor over half a pound of pork.

“You’re a stand-up guy!” Shazhu praised him, then began to get dressed. Once everything was ready and he was about to light the stove—

Suddenly, a waft of fragrance drifted into the room, followed by the entrance of a beautiful woman.

“Oh! Sister Qin, what brings you here?” Shazhu was just about to pour oil into the pan when he noticed Qin Huairu standing before him.

He abandoned his cooking immediately, hurrying over to her like a puppy.

“Shazhu, you have company today?” Qin Huairu feigned surprise, the picture of politeness.

“Oh, no guest at all—this is Chen Liang from the next courtyard,” Shazhu introduced them simply. “Chen Liang, this is my Sister Qin, Qin Huairu.”

“Hello! Nice to meet you!” Chen Liang thought to himself: a master manipulator, queen of the green tea arts, the ultimate angler—Comrade Qin Huairu!

After exchanging greetings, Qin Huairu handed Shazhu his cleaned lunchbox. “Here, Shazhu, I’ve washed your lunchbox for you.” Then she glanced at the neatly diced pork, feigning delight.

“Shazhu, are you making braised pork? Oh, my Banggen was begging for meat this morning. It’s all my fault as a mother for being so useless.” As she spoke, tears began to fall.

Shazhu, seeing her cry, immediately panicked. “Hey, hey! Why are you crying? If it’s just meat you want, don’t worry. Once I finish this dish for Chen Liang, I’ll make some for you too!”

At those words, Qin Huairu’s tears dried up instantly. She shot Shazhu a playful look and smiled, “Really? You’re not just teasing me, are you?”

“Really, truly, truer than gold! Look at you, Sister Qin—who goes crying at someone’s door first thing in the morning?” Shazhu’s heart was all aflutter under her gaze.

“Well then, I’ll be going. I still have a pile of laundry to wash!” she said coquettishly, leaving behind a trace of her perfume as she walked out.

Chen Liang had remained silent throughout, watching as Qin Huairu effortlessly wrapped Shazhu around her finger with just a few words. He couldn’t help but sneer inwardly.