Chapter Fifty: The Weak Spot

“Ahem, what could possibly be going on? Don’t talk nonsense, you rascal. If you start making things up, don’t blame your Uncle Liao for accusing you of slander, slander!” Old Liao gave a hearty laugh, but he absolutely refused to admit to any secret relationship with the proprietress.

Ye Yan just curled his lip in disbelief.

That look they’d exchanged just now, the way they gazed at each other—anyone who wasn’t blind could see exactly what was going on.

“Come on, Uncle Liao, we’re all men here, normal men. Everyone feels lonely, empty, and cold from time to time. If you keep hiding it, where’s the fun in that?”

All for the sake of a little gossip, Ye Yan really bared his heart, not holding back anything he wanted to say.

Across from him, Liao Zhong hesitated for a long time, but in the end, he couldn’t keep it in. He looked at Ye Yan and sighed.

“There’s something going on.”

Ye Yan perked up instantly, completely awake. He tilted his head, curiosity lighting his eyes as he looked at the gruff Liao Zhong. “How long have you known each other?”

“About a year or so,” Old Liao replied, counting on his fingers.

“And what’s the progress?”

“What progress could there be? It’s just how it is. We both have our concerns. The last barrier between us is thin as paper, but it’s so hard to break through.” Liao Zhong lit a cigarette, his tone wistful.

“So what’s her situation?”

Since he’d already started talking, Liao Zhong no longer intended to hide anything. Some things just fester in your heart, and when you finally find someone to talk to, you can’t help but let it out.

“Yanling is a widow with a kid in junior high. Her husband died of a terminal illness, and all these years, she’s never remarried. She’s raised the child alone and looks after a blind mother-in-law, and her own health isn’t great.”

“…She’s really something.”

Hearing Old Liao’s words, Ye Yan, who had started out ready to tease, fell silent.

He glanced at Li Yanling, whose smile was as bright as sunlight, bustling tirelessly among the tables. Respect slowly welled up in his eyes.

A woman, carrying a child and a blind old lady, shouldering the weight of a whole family on her own.

If he were in her place, Ye Yan wasn’t sure he could have done the same.

This sort of thing—

Let alone women, how many men could manage it?

Talking with Ye Yan, Liao Zhong finally opened up, sharing his feelings without reserve:

“Yezi, let me be honest with you. I really do like Yanling.”

“Do you know what crossed my mind when I saw Tu Junfang in Hake Village this time?” Liao Zhong took a long drag on his cigarette. “My first thought wasn’t what would happen to the company if I, as the manager, died, or anything like that. I thought, if I die, what will happen to Duoduo, Yanling, and the others?”

“It might sound funny to you, but at that moment, I admit I was scared—for the first time in so many years, I truly understood what fear was.”

“And when I woke up and heard Old Huang say I was still alive, that you’d saved me, you have no idea how happy I was.”

“…”

Liao Zhong’s voice was heavy, so different from the tough guy Ye Yan had always known. In that moment, he was vulnerable, a vulnerability Ye Yan had never seen before, one that didn’t match his fierce features at all.

But Ye Yan understood.

After all, people are emotional creatures. Once you find your soft spot, you become timid, losing the courage of youth.

That soft spot could be family, parents, children, responsibility—it’s true for everyone.

“Hot wontons, coming up!”

While they were talking, Yanling brought over two steaming bowls of wontons, garnished with green onions, cilantro, and generous chunks of beef.

She set the bowls down, rubbing her earlobe with her fingers before beaming at them. “Old Liao, you and your friend eat first. If it’s not enough, just let me know. The cold dishes are still being sliced—I’ve got pig’s knuckle and pig ears, but those’ll take a while.”

Her smile was as warm as spring sunshine.

Liao Zhong found himself gazing at her, a little dazed.

In the meeting of their eyes, it seemed even time itself had come to a standstill.

Ye Yan took the chance to tease, “Sister Yanling, don’t worry about us, just get on with your work.”

Caught off guard by Ye Yan’s sudden remark, Yanling blushed and hurried away without a word.

Once she’d gone, Ye Yan grinned mischievously. “Uncle Liao, good women are hard to come by. Why not marry her? If you hurry, you might even catch the policy and have a second child or something.”

Liao Zhong: “…”

Seeing he was pretending not to hear, Ye Yan chuckled, “Come on, just say what you’re thinking. I think Sister Yanling’s a good person. If there’s a problem, let’s solve it.”

Still, Liao Zhong said nothing.

Since persuasion wasn’t working, Ye Yan decided to play his trump card.

He pulled out his phone. “Uncle Liao, do you know what you did and said when I found you in Hake Village?”

“What?” Liao Zhong was puzzled.

Ye Yan shook his head with a smile, then found a recording—not very clear, but just audible.

As the familiar trembling voice came through the speaker, Liao Zhong’s fierce face turned from red to purple, then almost black.

He snatched Ye Yan’s phone, ready to delete the embarrassing evidence.

But Ye Yan’s voice sounded calmly, “Deleting it won’t help. I have backups.”

“…”

Liao Zhong’s hand froze. His eyes widened in disbelief, as if to say, “I’ve never wronged you, so why are you doing this to me?”

Ye Yan ignored his reaction, pointing at the phone, “Did you hear that clearly?”

Liao Zhong: “?”

Now this was going too far.

Ye Yan lowered his voice with a sly smile, mimicking Liao Zhong’s trembling tone, “Yanling, you mustn’t…”

With that line, Liao Zhong felt goosebumps rise all over his body. He deflated like a punctured ball, slumping into his chair.

Ye Yan pulled a cigarette from the pack, stuck it between his lips, and pressed on while the iron was hot, “Uncle Liao, you can only fool yourself with empty words. Courage is the medicine for crossing mountains and seas. You know what you want—face your heart.”

As the lighter clicked and blue smoke curled upward, Liao Zhong fell silent.

Ye Yan smoked quietly, saying nothing more.

He knew he’d said and done all he could. The rest was up to Liao Zhong alone.

No one could choose for him.

When the cigarette was finished, Liao Zhong was still lost in thought.

Ye Yan shook his head, scooped up a plump wonton with his wooden spoon, and tasted it, savoring each bite.

“Not bad, really.”

He ate one after another, and before long, the big bowl was clean.

Just as Ye Yan was about to order another, a piercing scream caught his attention.