Chapter Thirty-One: Fooled

"Alright, Master, I’ll remember that from now on. So… can we eat now?" The owner spoke without pausing his work. At that moment, both the crayfish and noodles were ready. The sight of the bright red crayfish made Chonchon’s mouth water uncontrollably. The owner, meanwhile, had been surreptitiously observing Fang Yuan and noticed that the young man was nearly drooling. To spare him embarrassment, the owner quickly looked down and discreetly placed a few extra napkins on the tray.

How did this young man even get through yesterday? Sigh…

Fang Yuan, oblivious to his own imminent drooling, carried his tray to a quiet corner and sat down. Just as he was about to dig in, he recalled the last time he’d eaten the super-spicy crayfish. Back then, Chonchon had tampered with his sense of taste to make the meal more enjoyable. Fang Yuan had been too engrossed in conversation with Pei Xi to notice that his supposedly blazing-hot crayfish were, in fact, mild.

"Chonchon, don’t mess with my sense of taste again, or I’ll spank you."

"Sorry, Master—I was wrong last time. I promise I’ll do better." Chonchon’s remorse was sincere. Perhaps he needed to be stricter with Chonchon; only then would the little imp truly fear him.

Moved by Chonchon’s earnest apology, Fang Yuan finally began to eat. But after the very first bite, his eyes went wide. The owner, bringing over a drink, was startled by the sight.

"What’s wrong? Was something not right? Did I not put in enough chili?" Seeing Fang Yuan’s eyes so wide, the owner nearly leapt with worry, afraid that something wasn’t to his liking.

"It’s nothing. Go on, you’re busy." Fang Yuan barely managed to reply, his mouth feeling as though it might burst into flames. He could only try to speak with his lips clamped shut.

He had ordered the dish, and even requested regular spiciness. If he couldn’t handle the heat, that was his own problem—not the owner’s fault.

Seeing Fang Yuan’s distress, the owner quickly set down a glass of iced plum juice in front of him.

"I made this myself—iced sour plum juice. Please, try it. If you like it, just let me know and I’ll bring you more." With that, the owner all but skipped away, as if afraid any delay would make Fang Yuan hold a grudge.

Fang Yuan grabbed the drink and gulped it down in one go. As the cold liquid slid down his throat, he finally felt alive again.

"Chonchon, help me—just numb my taste buds. This is way too spicy."

"Alright, Master. But… can I make a small request? This level of spiciness is nothing to me. Could we add a little more?"

Hearing this, Fang Yuan realized Chonchon’s earlier obedience had been for a reason. The wretched little bug… he’d fallen for its trick again.

"Hurry up and numb my taste buds; my mouth feels like it’s no longer my own," Fang Yuan ordered. But Chonchon replied unhurriedly,

"Master, please grant me this little wish. Let me try the super-spicy, just this once?"

"No way. Absolutely not. You saw what happened last time—my lips swelled up like sausages."

He refused without hesitation.

"Master, you’re the best. Please—just this once. I promise nothing like last time will happen again." Chonchon pleaded earnestly.

Fang Yuan considered this, then a thought struck him.

"So last time, my lips swelled up only because you did it on purpose? Is that what you’re telling me?"

"Uh… Master, please let me explain. It’s just that… actually…" Chonchon tried to explain, but Fang Yuan cut him off.

"Chonchon." Fang Yuan roared inwardly, startling Chonchon into immediate silence.

Even though Fang Yuan’s shout was only in his mind, the diners around him suddenly looked up, as though they’d heard something terrifying. In the kitchen, the plump owner, who had been trying to guess Fang Yuan’s thoughts, suddenly felt as though he’d been swept into a violent storm. Startled, he bolted upright from his seat. Only when he realized he was still in his little restaurant did he breathe a sigh of relief. For a moment, it had felt like a dream.

Of course, Fang Yuan himself was completely unaware of this. Hearing his anger, Chonchon immediately backed down, endlessly apologizing.

"Don’t be angry, Master—it’s all my fault. I promise I’ll never upset you again. Smile for me, please? Then you won’t be angry anymore?" Chonchon’s way of comforting people nearly made Fang Yuan spit out his drink.

He had intended to use this as a warning to keep Chonchon in line, but found it impossible to stay angry in the face of such antics. In fact, he was starting to feel that Chonchon was becoming more like a little rascal or street tough.

"Owner, add more chili."

In the end, Fang Yuan relented—though, curiously, he felt no resentment at all. It was as though, when your own child made a mistake, it wasn’t really a mistake at all. And even if it was, the fault lay with you.

"Master, you’re the best—come here, let me give you a kiss!" With that, Chonchon actually made a smacking sound.

Fang Yuan felt as though a dark cloud had floated before his eyes. What on earth…? This little bug was a real scoundrel.

After eating and drinking his fill, Fang Yuan went to pay, but the owner flatly refused to take his money. Left with no choice, Fang Yuan could only sigh—what a good man.

By now, the lunch rush had passed; the office workers had already finished and returned to their jobs. Fang Yuan, after eating, liked to take a stroll—a habit a bit old-fashioned, perhaps, but excellent for his health.

As the saying goes: “Walk a hundred steps after a meal, and you’ll live to ninety-nine.” For this reason, Fang Yuan insisted on a walk after every meal.

"Master, what are you going to do about that man in black the owner mentioned earlier?" Now that his belly was full, Chonchon was already thinking about the mysterious man in black. He couldn’t wait for Fang Yuan to find him and give him a good thrashing.

Well, wasn’t this a violent little bug?