Chapter 39: Xiao Qiang's Concern

After the neighbors had all left, Li Qingying finally brought the nutritional supplements and other items she had bought for He Wei into the house.

Seeing the abundance of things, He Wei shook his head in alarm, saying, "Qingying, you bought far too much."

At this moment, He Wei was happier than he had ever been in his life. His daughter-in-law had made him proud in front of the neighbors—who would dare say the He family was worthless now? The only thing he regretted was that he still didn't have a grandson, but fortunately, he had made preparations early that morning.

"Father, you're at home alone. Don't skimp—eat whatever you want," Li Qingying said, handing him another five thousand yuan.

He Wei quickly refused, "There's no need, you already gave me money the other day."

"Father, please take it. This is Qingying’s goodwill. Or are you looking down on her?" He Haoxuan chimed in deliberately.

Li Qingying shot He Haoxuan a glare. "Is that any way to speak?"

He Haoxuan just smiled and said nothing more. If Li Qingying was good to his father, he would be ten thousand times better to her.

Seeing this, He Wei finally accepted the money.

Then He Wei returned to the kitchen and brought out a bowl of inky black herbal medicine. "Haoxuan, hurry and drink this."

"Father, what is this?" He Haoxuan frowned.

"It's a tonic. Drink up and see if next year you can give me a grandson," He Wei said with a grin.

He Haoxuan wanted to refuse, but Li Qingying joined in the mischief, urging He Wei on. With a stern face, He Wei insisted, and Haoxuan had no choice but to drink it down. He then took out his phone and made a call. "Hello? Where are you? Why haven't you brought the ingredients over yet?"

He couldn't vent his frustration on the two before him, so he turned it on Xiaoqiang instead.

In fact, after hearing that He Haoxuan needed ingredients for French cuisine, Xiaoqiang had already prepared everything. When he received He Haoxuan’s call, he rushed to the street corner outside.

But he didn't dare deliver anything until he got Haoxuan's confirmation.

Stepping outside, Haoxuan saw Xiaoqiang accompanied by two men in white chef’s uniforms, each carrying two large bags, with a utility cart behind them.

"Mr. He, everything is prepared," Xiaoqiang said obsequiously.

As long as he flattered He Haoxuan well this time, he was sure to receive praise from the boss.

"Prepared? I wanted ingredients for French cuisine, what else did you bring?" Haoxuan asked.

"These two chefs are experts in French cooking. The cart behind has all the necessary kitchenware—everything you could need to make exquisite French dishes," Xiaoqiang said excitedly. He was convinced his efforts would earn him Haoxuan's approval.

Haoxuan asked, "Are these chefs as skilled as the owner of the Sky Restaurant?"

"This... uh..." Xiaoqiang was stumped. Surely Mr. He was joking—the Sky Restaurant was staffed entirely by French chefs. Even the ordinary chefs there wouldn't come, let alone someone of the owner’s masterful level.

Those French chefs were notoriously proud; money alone wasn't enough to make them bend.

Of course, with enough money and the right means, it might be possible to have them cook.

When Xiaoqiang stayed silent, Haoxuan sneered. "Just put the ingredients in my house and go. I'll cook myself."

"What? Mr. He, you’re cooking yourself?" Xiaoqiang nearly tripped over his own feet. This was really putting on a show—for the sake of wooing a beauty, Mr. He wanted to cook himself.

Hadn't that handsome author Ye Duzui once said, to win a woman's heart, you must first win her stomach?

But could Mr. He's cooking be edible? Xiaoqiang was highly skeptical.

You can fake airs, but you need real skills too—otherwise, serving up inedible French food to the beauty would be a disaster.

Worried, Xiaoqiang whispered, "Mr. He, why don't I have my chefs set up outside and secretly prepare the dishes? I can sneak them into your kitchen through the little window in the back—I checked it out last night."

Xiaoqiang grew more excited, feeling like an undercover agent.

"What? You scouted my place last night?" Haoxuan's face darkened.

Frightened, Xiaoqiang hurried to explain, "Mr. He, I only checked outside because I thought we’d need to set up a stove. I didn't go inside, I swear."

"Enough, all of you leave. I’ll cook myself, I don’t need your help." Haoxuan waved them away.

Was he joking? His culinary skills were second to none—why would he need anyone else?

With no alternative, Xiaoqiang led his men to deliver the ingredients to the yard, then went out to wait at the street corner.

The two chefs came up to Xiaoqiang and bowed. "Boss, since Mr. He doesn't need our help, should we head back?"

"Go back, my foot," Xiaoqiang snapped irritably. "He said he doesn’t need us now, but he might call for help soon. We’ll wait here—when he fails at making French food, he’ll call me. Then I’ll have the perfect chance to flatter him."

The more he thought about it, the happier Xiaoqiang became. As soon as Mr. He called, he’d appear right away, and surely earn praise from the big boss.

So Xiaoqiang and the two chefs squatted at the street corner, nervously watching their phones as if afraid to miss any call.

As Haoxuan was heading into the kitchen to show off his skills, Li Qingying stopped him. "How much did the ingredients cost? I’ll take the money to the supplier."

Haoxuan waved it off. "I have money."

"Come on, there’s no one else here—you don’t need to brag," Li Qingying shot him a look.

She thought Haoxuan was all right, except for being a braggart who cared too much about appearances, just like her younger sister.

Smiling, Haoxuan entered the kitchen and began to cook.

From the kitchen came the rhythmic sound of chopping, as if a knife were dancing on the cutting board.

Li Qingying wanted to go help, but He Wei stopped her. "Qingying, you don’t need to help. We used to be poor—while I worked outside, he always cooked for himself after school. He’s fine on his own."

After an hour, delicious aromas wafted from the kitchen, a testament to Haoxuan’s speed.

Of course, Xiaoqiang and his men had already cleaned the ingredients—now all Haoxuan had to do was cook.

Soon, the small dining table was covered with French dishes.

The presentation was almost identical to what they’d had at the Sky Restaurant, but these seemed even more aromatic.

"You can start eating," Haoxuan said with a smile.

"Haoxuan, is this really French food?" He Wei asked, having never tasted it before.