Chapter Twenty-Two: An Old Classmate’s Support

On the fifth day since the opening of the Seaside Cottage, the door swung open.

A young man strode in, dressed in a floral T-shirt and beach shorts. “Hey, Yezi, so this is your new place. Your brother's here to support you.” He glanced around, taking in the surroundings.

Shen Ye nodded. “Yeah, Pengzi, you made it.”

The visitor was his best friend, Wan Peng.

They had been classmates since junior high, and again in high school. At first, Wan Peng was just another ordinary classmate. But in high school, both fell for the class belle, Le Ya, and even got into a fight over her. The winner was supposed to have the right to pursue her. Both ended up battered, neither victorious. At that very moment, they caught a glimpse of Le Ya at a street corner, flirting with a local thug who was brazenly touching her waist.

Seeing this scene, Wan Peng and Shen Ye exchanged a look and laughter, as if their rivalry had been washed away in an instant.

That wretched Le Ya could go to hell!

From then on, they became sworn brothers. Both had equally poor grades. When it came time for university applications in senior year, Shen Ye casually chose Yangning College. Wan Peng took it a step further—after seeing Shen Ye’s choice, he followed suit, and once again, they became classmates. Both majored in Chinese.

Wan Peng had his own quirks. He wasn’t particularly handsome, nor was he unattractive, but in university, he suffered through over thirty heartbreaks. With each breakup, he’d sit by the bedside in the dark, light a cigarette, and sing a solo love song by Lin Zhixuan.

Sadly, he never managed to break Hanamichi Sakuragi’s record of fifty heartbreaks.

Wan Peng was luckier than Shen Ye in one respect: his father was a mid-level official at the Tobacco Bureau and got him a job there straight out of college. Of all their classmates who graduated last year, Wan Peng was probably doing the best.

After scoping out the place, Wan Peng’s gaze landed on the menu. He nodded, intrigued. “Hey, all American dishes? That’s pretty novel for this area. You’ve got brains—if you’d gone with local cuisine, those big chefs and restaurants would have crowded you out. Wait, did you mess up the prices?”

His eyes went wide, as if he were about to swallow an egg whole.

“I’m aiming for high-end dining, why not? I guarantee it’ll taste great. Want to try?” Shen Ye asked.

“Really? As far as I remember, you don’t cook. Back in the dorm, we just made instant noodles.” Wan Peng sounded skeptical.

Shen Ye feigned a scholarly air. “I was afraid my superior cooking would shock you all, make you ashamed, and hurt your self-esteem. Now, necessity compels me to reveal my talents.”

“Is that so?” Wan Peng nodded. “Alright, give me a Montana steak and a Boston clam chowder. Medium rare on the steak. Let me see this legendary skill of yours—don’t serve me any mystery concoctions.”

“Don’t worry, it won’t disappoint,” Shen Ye replied confidently. “Who am I, after all?”

In no time, the Montana steak and Boston clam chowder were ready.

Next came the critical step: he sprinkled both dishes with the magical seasoning known as “Dining under Wind and Dew.” Within moments, the flavors melded perfectly into the dishes.

He set them down before Wan Peng.

Wan Peng gazed at the two plates. Appearance-wise, they were fairly ordinary. He’d dined in places of style, like the most elegant hotel in Yangcheng, supposedly with a Michelin three-star chef. The dishes there were much more visually appealing than these.

Yet a faint, delicate fragrance wafted to his nose. The aroma was delightful.

Sizzle!

A marvelous taste blossomed on his tongue. The beef’s exquisite juices and savor filled his mouth. Tender and fresh beyond compare.

It seemed as if bite after bite of the finest Kobe beef was dancing before his eyes.

He’d eaten steak from a Michelin chef using Kobe beef at Yangcheng’s top restaurant, and thought it was the pinnacle. But now, the steak before him surpassed even that.

How could beef taste this good?

Wan Peng devoured it ravenously, shouting as he ate, “Yezi, give me another steak! This is insanely good. I ought to kill you for hiding your skills all through college—making us eat instant noodles for years. You owe me fine food!”

“Even eating doesn’t shut you up,” Shen Ye shook his head and prepared another Montana steak for his friend.

Wan Peng ate with wild abandon, thoroughly enjoying himself. After two steaks, feeling about seventy or eighty percent full, he finally turned to the chowder.

The soup was milky white with a hint of yellow, visually appealing, and emanated a gentle fragrance.

At the first taste, Wan Peng was pleasantly surprised.

The chowder was based on milk and cream, with chunks of clam, potato, and clam juice. Usually, it was difficult for most places, even many star-rated restaurants, to harmonize the flavors of cream and clams. Yet this humble little shop had achieved perfect fusion.

He savored the creamy, delicate texture, and the fresh briny flavor of the clams—a perfect blend, like the sea colliding with cream.

It was delicious.

In a short while, Wan Peng polished off the chowder completely.

“This is incredible. I want to take some to go—one for my dad and one for my mom, so they can taste what real gourmet food is,” he said, wiping his mouth and then looked at Shen Ye with mock agony. “Yezi, how am I supposed to eat anything else after this? It’s heartbreaking.”

“Heard you finally got your first girlfriend at the Tobacco Bureau, and she makes you love-packed lunches. Living the good life, unlike me, a lonely bachelor.” Shen Ye grumbled. Damn it, Wan Peng, who’d been dumped thirty times in college, actually found a girlfriend before he did—so unfair.

Wan Peng, proud of his first successful romance, looked at Shen Ye with contempt, as if regarding a stray dog.

Wan Peng’s father was a mid-level official at the Tobacco Bureau. Wan Peng himself worked there, and among the youth in Ning County, he was doing quite well, moving in stylish circles.

He enthusiastically recommended Shen Ye’s Seaside Cottage to his circle, calling it the best food he’d ever tasted. Curious, others from his group came to try it. Each one left with high praise. Passersby, noticing the bustling business and seeing it wasn’t a tourist trap, started coming in as well.

A virtuous cycle was established.

Business at the Seaside Cottage grew steadily. It never reached full capacity due to the high prices, but the profit margins on these dishes were substantial. The earnings were considerable.

(Today I spent the whole day out with my child, so updates are late. Sorry.)