Chapter 146: Bringing Zhou Yun Home

Before boarding his flight, Tang Zhichu had already called Wang Jun. Although Old Tang’s Sichuan Cuisine was technically closed, they had only tidied up the first floor.

The group went straight upstairs, and after everyone had entered the private room, Wang Jun gently pulled the door shut. He headed back downstairs, where his apprentice—now the head chef of Old Tang’s Sichuan Cuisine, Xiao Pang—immediately came to greet him.

"Is the boss really back?"

Wang Jun nodded and whispered, "Start preparing the food; we have distinguished guests."

"You got it!"

Xiao Pang nodded with a grin. He had specifically kept two young servers on duty and hurried to tell them to start serving. Wang Jun had been idle lately, so he had handed the kitchen over to Xiao Pang while he focused on managing the restaurant. Under his leadership, the dishes had been upgraded, yet the prices remained the same. They had hired new staff and replaced others, bringing the total team size to twelve. Even the auntie who washed dishes in the kitchen now earned over five thousand a month. They used to make at most five thousand a day; now, on weekends, they sometimes cleared ten thousand. Wang Jun himself found it magical—the more heart he put into it, and the less he obsessed over profit, the more money he actually made. He could easily put away over a hundred thousand a month now.

Upstairs, in the private room, the dishes were all laid out. Zhu Yiyang and Xu Lai had both watched the dating variety show and knew Tang Zhichu had a small restaurant, but they hadn't expected to actually eat there.

"These are all classic Sichuan dishes. I told them to go easy on the chili. Go ahead, dig in."

Tang Zhichu was still quite confident in his own restaurant. Old Tang was a chef by trade, and Wang Jun was a reliable man. Upon returning, he noticed even the decor had been updated, making the space feel more open than before.

"Wow, this is good. This Mapo Tofu is excellent—the tofu is tender, the sauce is rich, and the numbing sensation has a clean, sharp quality to it without being overwhelming. It’s better than what I’ve had in Chengdu!"

"The steamed fish is great, too. The subtle hint of soy sauce perfectly complements the sweetness of the fish. Damn, Brother Tang, you’re something else. I knew there was no way you were just an ordinary cook. No wonder you managed to land Chen..." Zhu Yiyang caught himself just in time.

There was a lady at the table. Since the third episode of the dating show, Zhou Yun had chosen Tang Zhichu. Her gaze flickered toward Zhu Yiyang; she knew who he was—he was part of Liu Xingyun’s alliance on the music variety show. She just wasn't sure why he was hanging out with Old Tang. Of course, knowing what she did about Tang Zhichu, she suspected that anyone he brought to Yuzhou was likely more than just a casual friend.

However, this "friend" seemed to be standing on Chen Siyang’s side. That was something she would have to find an opportunity to address.

Xu Lai pulled out a hair tie. He had long hair, and with a practiced motion, he pulled it back and tied it up as if by magic; having his hair loose was inconvenient for eating. He chimed in, "I don’t think it’s as ridiculous as the internet makes it out to be. If you watch Brother Tang’s music show, the comment sections feel like a suspense film, everyone guessing this and that. Haven't Brother Tang and Chen Siyang already split up? These viewers are obsessed."

Zhou Yun glanced at Xu Lai; this friend seemed quite agreeable.

"That’s just internet slang, the kind of hot topic people die for. It’s said that after Brother Tang joined the music show, the volume of comments increased fivefold compared to the first two episodes. I don’t believe Director Yu Hua isn’t grateful to Brother Tang," Zhu Yiyang said, changing the subject.

Throughout the trip, Zhu Yiyang had been chatting with Xu Lai. Both were professionals in film and television. Xu Lai came from a family of directors; his grandfather was among the first generation of filmmakers in China, making him a true legacy. Zhu Yiyang, meanwhile, was formally trained, holding dual degrees in screenwriting and drama performance. They were both building rapport and testing each other out. The more they talked, the more surprised they were—both felt the other had substance—and they gradually grew comfortable with one another.

Tang Zhichu interjected, "Let’s not talk about that. By the way, Xu Lai, did you tell your dad you were coming to Yuzhou?"

Xu Lai nodded. "I mentioned it, but he told me to go back to Chengdu tomorrow and then head to Beijing with him."

Tang Zhichu nodded. After a moment of thought, he leaned over and whispered to Zhou Yun, "This is Xu Lai, the son of the famous director Xu Huaijin."

Zhou Yun was confused for a moment, then her eyes widened in surprise. Xu Huaijin was the biggest name in Chinese wuxia films; in recent years, he had even directed the Spring Festival Gala and several state-level events. He was essentially one of the highest peaks among television directors. Only then did Zhou Yun understand why Tang Zhichu had described Xu Lai as a future famous director when he introduced him. But what was the point of Tang Zhichu telling her this?

Tang Zhichu’s introduction made Xu Lai feel a bit awkward. He smiled, "Brother Tang, you really..."

Tang Zhichu poured Xu Lai a drink and introduced him in turn, "Yiyang knows I have an influencer agency. Xiaoyun is helping me manage it. We have about a dozen influencers under us right now. Would you like to go take a look?"

Xu Lai immediately waved his hand. "I think I’ll pass. You know, I invited you to dinner for two reasons: first, to thank you for writing us a great song, and second, to discuss some things with you."

As he said this, Xu Lai deliberately glanced at Zhou Yun. Before the stage recording, Xu Lai had asked Tang Zhichu a question: how should one pursue a girl like Zhou Yun? Tang Zhichu still remembered that question. He added, "They are all female influencers."

"All?" Xu Lai choked. He glanced at Zhou Yun again. He rubbed his hair and changed his tune, "Er... well, since I’ve finally made it to Yuzhou, it would be a shame to only stay for one night. Tell you what, I’ll call my dad later and tell him I’m not heading back tomorrow."

Zhu Yiyang burst out laughing. He thought back to what Tang Zhichu had said that day—that while Xu Lai looked like a good boy, he had a wild, unrestrained soul deep down. He really had a knack for reading people.

After the meal, Tang Zhichu had Wang Jun take Xu Lai and Zhu Yiyang to their hotel.

Outside the entrance of Old Tang’s Sichuan Cuisine, watching the car drive away, Zhou Yun finally let her guard down. She reached out and hooked her arm into Tang Zhichu’s, leaning her entire body against him.

Tang Zhichu whispered, "Tired?"

Zhou Yun hummed in response.

Tang Zhichu applied a little pressure, steering Zhou Yun into a nearby alley. Zhou Yun was dressed in professional attire; appearing here in the middle of the night meant she had likely been working. She had finished work so late, then followed him to eat with people she didn't know—she had to be exhausted.

The two stopped in front of an old-fashioned building. Zhou Yun asked, "Where is this?"

"My home."

Zhou Yun’s body stiffened. "Maybe we shouldn't. How am I supposed to be seen like this? Is my makeup still on? Does my hair look okay?" As she spoke, she began tidying her clothes.

Tang Zhichu pinched her soft cheek and laughed. "What are you thinking? There’s no one home."

Zhou Yun let out a sigh of relief, which also sounded a bit like disappointment.

"So, when you're in Yuzhou, you just live alone?"

"With my dad."

"Then you... never mind, I won't ask."

The two chatted as they climbed the stairs. The old-style building had no elevator, and the lights in the stairwell were a dim, yellowish hue. On the second floor, Tang Zhichu opened the door. Zhou Yun peeked inside curiously, and Tang Zhichu gave her a gentle nudge.

The decor was very old-fashioned, featuring thick, leather-upholstered sofas. The dining chairs and the refrigerator were covered with white, lace-trimmed dust cloths.