25: Chapter 25 A bowl of noodles with two eggs

At one in the morning in Jiangcheng, the wind poured down one's neck like a knife.

Chen Fan rode Su Wanqing's little electric scooter—the kind where everything rattled except the bell—wobbling through the empty streets. Su Wanqing sat on the back seat, her hands tucked into Chen Fan's jacket pockets at his waist, her face pressed against his broad back.

This back blocked the wind; it was warm.

"Drive slower! The brake pads on this thing are almost worn out. Do you think this is your G-Wagon?" Su Wanqing shouted from behind. Her voice was slightly scattered by the wind, and instead of anger, it sounded more like she was acting spoiled.

"Don't worry, I'm familiar with this bike. Didn't I use this same piece of junk to take you for your prenatal checkups back then?" Chen Fan shouted back into the wind. "Back then, I thought to myself that once I had money, I'd definitely get you something with four wheels."

Su Wanqing pinched his lower back but didn't say anything, only pressing her face even closer.

Times were indeed bitter back then, but back then, Chen Fan only had eyes for her.

Twenty minutes later, the little electric scooter came to a screeching halt at the entrance of "Maple Grove Neighborhood."

This was a thirty-year-old, run-down neighborhood. Half the streetlights were broken, the trash cans were overflowing, and the peeling wall paint looked like a skin disease. Su Wanqing had lived here for five years, and every crack between the floor tiles was stuffed with the hardships of life.

"We're here, get off." Su Wanqing hopped down, preparing to push the bike.

Chen Fan, however, pressed down on the handlebars, his gaze fixed on the pitch-black entrance of the apartment building. "Wait."

"What's wrong? Seen a ghost?" Su Wanqing looked up in confusion.

In the next second, at the previously pitch-black entrance, two high-powered searchlights suddenly flared to life. The beams of light shot straight into the sky, illuminating the dilapidated neighborhood as bright as day.

Su Wanqing instinctively raised her hand to shield her eyes.

By the time she adjusted to the light, she froze in place.

At the narrow stairwell entrance, two rows of burly men in black suits and headsets stood straight as arrows in two lines. The murderous aura emanating from them was completely out of place in this neighborhood littered with vegetable scraps.

Standing at the very front were a middle-aged man in a gray Mao suit and a young man with a buzz cut whose eyes were like a wolf's.

They were Chen Fan's chief assistant, "Tianshu," and the captain of the bodyguards, "Dark Blade."

Seeing Chen Fan and Su Wanqing approach, Tianshu adjusted his collar and took a step forward.

Swish!

The ten men moved in perfect unison, the sound of their leather shoes clicking against the ground sharp and loud. Facing the woman wearing a cheap market jacket with her hair windswept, they bowed deeply at a ninety-degree angle.

"Welcome, Boss! Welcome, Madam!"

Their voices were thunderous and their momentum like a rainbow, echoing through the empty neighborhood and startling several stray cats.

The helmet in Su Wanqing's hand fell to the ground with a "clatter."

She even forgot to pick it up, her mouth hanging open wide enough to fit an egg. She stared blankly at the scene, then turned to look at the calm Chen Fan beside her.

"You... you..." Su Wanqing stuttered for a long time, her face turning bright red. "Are you sick?! It's the middle of the night, who are you trying to scare to death! The neighbors are going to call the police!"

She cursed with her mouth, but her heart was beating so fast it felt like it would jump out of her throat.

What woman doesn't have a bit of vanity?

In a run-down neighborhood where even the property security guards did nothing but sleep, suddenly being respectfully called "Madam" by a group of people who looked like they stepped out of a movie was a shock more intense than being given ten million dollars directly.

"Shh—keep it down." Chen Fan picked up the helmet from the ground and casually handed it to Dark Blade. "Everyone disperse, don't scare the neighbors. Just leave two people to keep watch downstairs."

"Yes!" Dark Blade took the helmet and waved his hand.

The two rows of black suits instantly dispersed, vanishing into the darkness as if they had never appeared. Their movements were so fast it made one wonder if they had just seen things.

Tianshu stepped forward and handed Chen Fan a document folder, lowering his voice: "Boss, the liquidation of all the Wang family's assets is complete. The news will broadcast it tomorrow morning. Also, about Young Master Su... do we really not need to intervene?"

Chen Fan glanced at the still-dazed Su Wanqing and shook his head. "Let him be for now. Some paths must be walked alone."

After dismissing his subordinates, Chen Fan took Su Wanqing's cold hand and pulled her toward the stairwell.

"What are you still standing there for? Let's go home."

Su Wanqing was led by him like a puppet until they entered the sixty-square-meter rental apartment. Only when she smelled the familiar scent of laundry detergent did her soul finally return to her body.

She shook off Chen Fan's hand and leaned against the door, her chest heaving violently.

"Chen Fan, tell me the truth. What exactly do you do now?" Su Wanqing stared at him. "Those people just now... they didn't look like good people."

"A legitimate businessman." Chen Fan skillfully put on a pair of slippers—the same ones he had left behind nineteen years ago, which Su Wanqing had never thrown away. "An investment firm, the global kind. That just now was employee benefits, picking up the boss's wife from work."

"Who is your boss's wife! Shameless!" Su Wanqing cursed and turned to the kitchen to pour some water, hiding her flushed face.

Chen Fan followed her into the kitchen, looking at the space so narrow one could hardly turn around.

On the cutting board sat half a pack of dried noodles, with two eggs beside them.

"Wanqing, I'm hungry." Chen Fan leaned against the doorframe, clutching his stomach. "I was too busy acting cool at the night market and didn't eat a single bite. Cook me a bowl of noodles?"

"No! Order takeout yourself!" Su Wanqing didn't even look back.

"Takeout isn't as good as your cooking." Chen Fan shamelessly leaned in, resting his chin on her shoulder. "I want your tomato and egg noodles. Remember? Back when we were poor, we could only add two eggs on birthdays. I miss that taste."

Su Wanqing's body stiffened.

She wanted to push him away, but though she raised her hand, she couldn't find the strength.

"Move! You're in my way of getting the pot!"

Five minutes later.

The water boiled, and the white noodles tumbled in the pot. Su Wanqing skillfully cracked two eggs. With a sizzle, the egg liquid slid into the hot oil, instantly becoming fluffy and golden. A sprinkle of chopped green onions, and the aroma was mouth-watering.

Chen Fan sat at the slightly wobbly folding dining table, watching Su Wanqing approach with a chipped porcelain bowl.

On top of the steaming noodles lay two golden poached eggs.

Su Wanqing set the bowl down heavily in front of him and slapped the chopsticks on the table: "Eat! Choke on it!"

Chen Fan picked up the chopsticks but didn't rush to eat.

The steam made his eyes feel a bit stinging.

Nineteen years.

He had eaten Michelin meals costing tens of thousands of dollars abroad and drunk red wine worth hundreds of thousands a bottle, but no meal had ever made him feel as grounded as the bowl of noodles before him.

This was the taste of home.

Chen Fan picked up a poached egg and took a bite; it was runny.

"Delicious," Chen Fan said indistinctly. "Better than a state banquet."

Su Wanqing sat opposite him, her chin resting on her hands. She had intended to keep a stern face, but seeing Chen Fan devouring the food, her gaze softened after all.

"Eat slowly, no one is fighting you for it." She pulled out a tissue, instinctively wanting to wipe his mouth, but she pulled her hand back halfway.

Chen Fan, however, grabbed her hand.

That hand was rough, with calluses on the fingertips—marks worn in by life.

"Wanqing." Chen Fan put down his chopsticks and held her hand tightly, his palm burning hot.

Su Wanqing tried to pull back but couldn't move it.

"What? Too full and looking for trouble?" She turned her head away, not daring to look into Chen Fan's eyes.

"I've remembered this bowl of noodles for nineteen years." Chen Fan's voice was low and heavy like stone. "I know, I am guilty. I have money now, I have power, I have countless people wanting to flatter me. But if I put all of that on a scale, it wouldn't be as heavy as the two eggs you just fried for me."

Su Wanqing's eyelashes fluttered.

"Give me a chance." Chen Fan stared at her, his gaze as direct as fire. "Let me pay back everything I owed you and the child, with interest. This life of mine, Chen Fan's life, belongs to you from now on."

In the small living room, there was only the humming sound of the old-fashioned refrigerator.

Su Wanqing felt her heart's defenses crumbling bit by bit.

She looked at the man before her, at the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, and at those eyes that couldn't be more serious.

She wanted to refuse, wanted to curse him, wanted to throw all nineteen years of grievances in his face.

But when the words reached her lips, they turned into a harmless mumble.

"The noodles are going to get soggy... hurry up and eat, then get lost."

Though her words were chasing him away, the hand held by Chen Fan remained there quietly, without trying to pull back again.

Chen Fan smiled.

He knew that this door, which had been tightly shut for nineteen years, had finally been pried open a crack by him.

"As you command, Madam."

Chen Fan gave a loud laugh and lowered his head to eat the noodles in large gulps.

Su Wanqing glared at him with a flushed face, but the corner of her mouth secretly curled into a very slight arc.

Just then, Chen Fan's private phone on the table suddenly vibrated.

The caller ID showed only two words: [Daughter].

Chen Fan's movements paused. Before he even swallowed the noodles in his mouth, his gaze instantly became tender.

It seemed that tomorrow's meal was already taken care of.