Chapter 118:

Apart from Yu Xiang’an’s plan to build a high-end residential area, she had another idea—to organize a competition with her peers.

It would be a contest among the luxury hotels in the Special Economic Zone, with esteemed chefs and gourmets invited as judges. This would boost popularity and generate buzz for all participants. She wouldn’t compete herself—she was no longer just a professional chef. Instead, she planned to film the event. While such competitions were common abroad, they were still rare domestically.

With television becoming increasingly widespread and more people tuning in to watch programs, Yu Xiang’an proposed the idea, and Lu Anran immediately saw its potential. “If we’re going to do it, let’s make it professional—hire professional hosts and cameramen. If we can sustain this event long-term, the benefits will be undeniable.”

Liu Sanbao, who had been running around following Yu Xiang’an, felt like the extra pounds she’d gained were melting away. Though her salary was high, the job wasn’t easy. But whenever she felt exhausted, she’d glance at Yu Xiang’an—someone so wealthy yet still working so hard—and suddenly, her complaints seemed trivial.

Yu Xiang’an couldn’t participate as a chef or a judge since her own hotel was involved. But even so, her enthusiasm remained undiminished. She loved tasting different cuisines. Before college, she had experimented with countless new dishes in her space and even compiled her own recipe book. Later, when she started her business, she gradually drew from that accumulated knowledge.

Looking back, she realized her creativity wasn’t as prolific as before. Watching chefs from all over the country wield their woks on stage, Yu Xiang’an felt an itch in her fingers—her mind brimming with new ideas to test.

Yu Mansheng, sitting beside her, noticed her expression and leaned in. “Sis, wanna show off your skills when we get back?”

Yu Xiang’an: “Definitely.”

Yu Mansheng laughed. “Sis, you never change.”

Yu Xiang’an: “I’m still me, so of course I haven’t.”

The competition was held in an open-air venue, with chefs and their assistants stationed in separate workstations on stage. The judges sat at the front, while a crowd of industry peers and curious onlookers gathered below. Everyone was eager to witness something novel.

The dishes varied daily—today, hearty main courses; tomorrow, desserts. Some focused on seafood, others on poultry, each with its own flair. There were no hidden agendas—whoever cooked the best earned the highest scores.

Yu Xiang’an and Yu Mansheng’s chef performed well, securing second place overall. The winner, whose dishes Yu Xiang’an had also tasted, was undeniably superior—his family had served as imperial chefs for generations, with a treasured recipe book passed down. Their own chef, though recruited at great expense, was no slouch either.

After the results were announced, their hotel’s customer traffic surged by 30%.

Yu Mansheng mused, “This competition’s a hit. Should we do it again next year?”

The frequency was still undecided. Once a year might be too frequent; perhaps biennially or triennially? Too much repetition would dull the novelty.

Yu Xiang’an wanted the event to endure, ensuring that their names as pioneers would be remembered for years to come.

—

It was job-hunting season again.

Wang Xiaoya, a top graduate from Capital University, had no trouble finding work—or good work, for that matter. Several organizations and companies had extended offers, but the terms didn’t satisfy her.

Moreover, as her seniors in such workplaces had warned, seniority-based hierarchies were stifling. Newcomers were relegated to menial tasks, taking time to integrate. She didn’t want to waste her precious years like that. Plus, the best positions were already occupied. So, she turned her attention to dynamic private enterprises.

Many private companies, though not offering “iron rice bowls,” provided enviable benefits. A fellow villager of hers had joined one and, within a few years, bought a house and major appliances, living a life of comfort. Wang Xiaoya envied that—her alma mater was even better, so why couldn’t she succeed too?

As a woman, she also preferred workplaces with fewer gender barriers.

While weighing her options, she received news: a prominent alumna was coming to recruit—specifically, for a personal assistant.

This senior was well-known on campus, her photo displayed on the “Wall of Achievements.” Her company recruited annually, but this time was different—she sought an assistant to work closely with her.

The opportunity to learn directly from a CEO? Many were intrigued.

Though the salary wasn’t listed, it was no secret among alumni that her company offered excellent compensation. The requirements, however, were stringent: fluency in at least two foreign languages and organizational experience were baseline.

Wang Xiaoya was tempted. She submitted her résumé—she was the student council president, fluent in English and Japanese, with some German, consistently top-ranked, and a scholarship recipient every year.

After rounds of interviews, she reached the final stage, standing before Senior Yu.

Liu Sanbao ushered her in with a polite smile, inwardly sighing. Initially, Yu Xiang’an had only her as an assistant. Then came two more. Now, another. Their roles didn’t overlap—Liu had long transitioned to a personal assistant role.

Though trusted, Liu yearned for greater challenges. But her limited education held her back—she struggled to grasp new concepts, especially as she aged.

Still, she had one advantage: while other assistants came and went, she remained the constant. Some were promoted to key positions; others were demoted. Liu envied the former, now managing entire divisions or companies with authority.

Watching the confident young woman with a high ponytail and black-framed glasses, Liu wondered: Would she, too, become a CEO in three years?

Likely.

As expected, Wang Xiaoya joined the team the next day.

Liu extended a hand. “Hello, let’s support each other. I’m older, so I’ll call you ‘little sister.’ If you have questions, feel free to ask.”

Wang Xiaoya grinned. “Liu-jie, I won’t hold back. Don’t mind my chatter.”

Despite her rustic name, Wang Xiaoya radiated confidence. Liu had a hunch—she’d rise fast.

—

Yu Xiang’an recruited more talent from her alma mater. With her expanding ventures—restaurants, hotels, apparel, real estate, snacks, health products, pharmaceuticals, security—each new hire was swiftly assigned.

The faculty knew her well—she visited yearly, donating books and equipment generously. Their impression of her was invariably positive.

With recruitment settled, she handed the new assistant to Liu Sanbao and went to see her daughter—her biological one, after all.

Arms laden with snacks, she arrived at Lin Yining’s dorm.

Her three roommates gaped, scrutinizing Yu Xiang’an.

The eldest eyed Lin Yining skeptically. “This is your sister, right? You’re messing with us, calling her your mom? I—I can’t call her ‘auntie.’”

Yu Xiang’an wore skinny jeans, a silk bell-sleeved blouse, no makeup, and a high ponytail—radiating youth.

She looked like an older sister, not a mother!

Lin Yining burst out laughing. Yu Xiang’an’s mood soared—her deliberately youthful outfit had paid off.

At work, she dressed more formally to command authority, but jeans were undeniably rejuvenating. A loose sweatshirt, and she could pass for a college student.

Yu Xiang’an: “I really am her mother. She’s been in your care—let’s have dinner together. I’ve reserved a table. Are you free?”

Parents often treated their children’s roommates when visiting. Nothing unusual.

Still doubtful, the trio pressed, “Seriously?”

Lin Yining pointed to her skincare products. “Mom uses the same brand as me.” (Hers was custom-made—her father had initially waved her off but later arranged it secretly.)

Yu Xiang’an had booked a table at a rival establishment—novelty mattered.

While she bonded with Lin Yining’s roommates, Yu Qingshan strolled through the Special Economic Zone, trailed discreetly by a minder—Li Dazhu, a fellow townsman from Baishi County.

Illiterate but strong and obedient, Li kept Yu Qingshan company.

At a new hotel, Yu Qingshan timed the service—from ordering to serving.

Soon, appetizers arrived: roasted peanuts and spicy pickled radish, with luohanguo tea.

Between bites, Li shared news: “Mom set me up on a blind date.”

Nearly thirty, Li’s family had been too poor for marriage. Now employed, his prospects improved.

Yu Qingshan: “What does she do?”

Li: “Elementary teacher. Widowed, no kids. A year younger. We’re seeing how it goes.”

He honestly recounted all the details.

Yu Qingshan: “This is truly wonderful news! You should have told me as soon as you got back. You need to be more diligent and not too tight-fisted. When it’s time to buy gifts, buy gifts.”

Li Dazhu’s dark face flushed red. “Then what should I buy?”

Yu Qingshan hesitated. “…How about some skincare products, or clothes and dresses? Women love beauty. But don’t just buy anything randomly—if it doesn’t suit her taste, it’d be such a waste. There’s no rush, though. I’ll ask around for advice later.”

Truth be told, Yu Qingshan didn’t know what women liked either.

In the past, it was simpler for men to please women—just take them out for meat or buy them candy. But nowadays, those things aren’t as rare anymore.

Back then, meat was a luxury, only eaten a few times a year. Now, with a steady job, even if you’re frugal, eating meat a few times a month isn’t a problem.

Li Dazhu scratched his head and laughed sheepishly. “Thank you, Uncle Qingshan.”

Just then, the matsutake mushroom soup they ordered arrived. Yu Qingshan glanced at his wristwatch and nodded approvingly. A server ladled the soup into bowls and served it to them—a level of service that never failed to impress Yu Qingshan.

Back when they occasionally splurged at state-run restaurants, could they ever dream of such treatment?

No way. The staff would just plop the dishes on the counter, shout out the order, and leave customers to fetch their own food. If you didn’t order much, you’d likely get a disdainful glare.

Yu Qingshan took a spoonful of the soup—rich and fragrant. Li Dazhu, not one for elaborate praise, simply said, “Delicious!” before gulping down two bowls.

Yu Qingshan didn’t stop him. Li Dazhu was a big man with a hearty appetite. Though two bowls might sound like a lot, the portions weren’t huge—just enough to whet the appetite.

Soon, the next dish arrived: steamed sea bass. Just then, someone entered the restaurant. They were seated in the main hall near the entrance, where the view was broad, so Yu Qingshan spotted the newcomers immediately.

He reflexively glanced over, then froze. The arrivals were two people he recognized.

Though they had aged and their clothing had changed significantly, he still knew them at once.

It was Zhao Qiaoniang and Ding Minxiu.

Zhao Qiaoniang looked uneasy, while Ding Minxiu was dressed elegantly, holding a small child in her arms. Beside her stood a middle-aged man, their arms linked intimately, as if they were a family of three. But Zhou Boyang didn’t look like that!

Yu Qingshan clutched his chest. Fortunately, they were engrossed in conversation and didn’t notice him, so he wasn’t spotted.

He caught a snippet of their talk—the man was saying, “This hotel is newly opened. I’ve eaten here once before—the food’s excellent, especially the roasted suckling pig. You must try it…”

Watching Ding Minxiu’s smiling face, Yu Qingshan felt his heart pound even faster. The shock was overwhelming.

How could she do such a thing?

And Zhao Qiaoniang didn’t even stop her? Just let her daughter go astray like this?!

Dishes continued to arrive, but Yu Qingshan had lost all appetite.

He didn’t want to run into them.

He booked a private room.

Li Dazhu stayed by the entrance to keep watch.

Yu Qingshan went upstairs to make a call.

He dialed Yu Xianghai directly. His son was still in Baishi County—the easiest person to ask.

When the call connected, Yu Qingshan got straight to the point. “Have you heard any news about the Zhou family recently?”

Yu Xianghai was confused. “No, why? Did something happen to them? I haven’t heard anything.”

Yu Qingshan: “Nothing at all?”

Yu Xianghai, unsettled by the question, replied, “Dad, I haven’t been paying much attention. Should I ask around and call you back?”

Yu Qingshan: “Yes, go find out. Right now. You’re not at work, are you? Be discreet—don’t draw attention.”

He didn’t want to get dragged into this scandal.

Baffled, Yu Xianghai went to Ye Qijia. She was equally puzzled. “I haven’t heard anything, but I’ve been busy and haven’t paid much attention. Let me ask around.”

Some people loved gossip and knew every little incident in the county. She stepped out briefly and returned shaking her head. “Nothing unusual. Everything’s the same as before.”

She then curled her lip.

Zhou Boyang was still in Baishi County, running a small stationery shop near a school. It was enough to scrape by, but that was it. He was the only one working seriously—people shook their heads when his son and daughter-in-law came up in conversation.

Yu Qingshan was silent after hearing this. “…”

So Ding Minxiu had found someone else while separated from Zhou Boyang. And this new man seemed well-off—this hotel wasn’t cheap, and ordinary folks wouldn’t splurge here. Their clothes also gave it away.

Yu Xianghai pressed on the phone. “Dad, why are you suddenly asking about the Zhou family? Is something wrong?”

Yu Qingshan felt a headache coming on. The special zone was both vast and small—today it was him who stumbled upon them, but who knew about tomorrow?

Still, if someone else found out, it wouldn’t be his problem. He didn’t want to explain to Yu Xianghai. “No reason, just a passing thought. If there’s nothing else, I’ll hang up.”

Yu Xianghai, left with a dead line: “…” What’s up with Dad? So random.

Well, if he couldn’t figure it out, he wouldn’t dwell on it. The Zhou family’s affairs had nothing to do with them.

Yu Qingshan knew that too—it was just frustrating. Ding Minxiu had once called him “Dad,” yet she’d first betrayed them with Zhou Boyang, and now this.

It was enough to make one sigh.

Yu Qingshan kept the matter to himself. Li Dazhu obeyed him—when told not to speak of it, he didn’t breathe a word to anyone.

When Yu Xiang’an returned, Yu Qingshan asked, “Dazhu wants to buy a gift for his sweetheart. What should he get?”

Yu Xiang’an was an expert on this. “Skincare products, clothes, or small jewelry. Does he have a photo of her? Let me see her figure and style—I can recommend what suits her best, and you can buy accordingly.”

His thoughtfulness deserved praise and encouragement.

Within minutes, they had a plan. Li Dazhu left happily.

Yu Qingshan had resisted telling Yu Xianghai, but once Yu Xiang’an returned, he couldn’t hold back anymore and shared the story.

Yu Xiang’an: “…”

What a mess.

If true love existed, Zhou Boyang and Ding Minxiu could once have been called a genuine couple, given the risks they took. Yet now, things had come to this—and clearly, the Zhou family was unaware.

If this came to light, Zhou Boyang wouldn’t let it slide.

Had Ding Minxiu even thought about how to handle the fallout?

After speaking, Yu Qingshan regretted it slightly. “I haven’t told anyone else. Don’t spread this either—let’s not be the ones to stir trouble.”

Yu Xiang’an: “Don’t worry, Dad. I won’t say a word. I figure it was just coincidence you saw them—the chances of someone else discovering this are slim.”

That’s what she thought. But the truth came out faster than expected.

And it dragged them into the mess.