Chapter Eighty: Miss Fangyu

Just as he began serving customers, Heath heard the distinct sound of high heels clicking on the pavement. He looked up and saw Miss Fragrant standing at the end of the line, dressed in expensive designer clothes. Heath couldn’t help but twitch the corner of his mouth—Miss Fragrant had come again, but today he hadn’t prepared any steamed buns and had no idea what she might want.

Whenever Miss Fragrant visited, Heath always felt a bit nervous. She always seemed pressed for time, in a constant hurry, and while he cooked for her, she would watch him intently, never taking her eyes off his hands. It gave Heath the same feeling he’d had during exams back in school, when the proctor would stand nearby, eyes fixed on him. Even though he wasn’t cheating, he couldn’t help but feel a little on edge.

After making savory pancakes for the customers ahead, Miss Fragrant stepped forward. Today, as usual, she wore no makeup, but her fair, delicate skin would make any woman envious, and her natural elegance was captivating.

“Heath, one fried rice to go, please—make it quick,” she said in her rapid-fire way as soon as she reached the front. Heath nodded, grabbed an egg, and set about preparing her order without delay. He whisked the egg, poured it into the heated pan, stirred in the rice, and added the fragrant green onions from his prized scallion duck. As he worked, he asked if she wanted braised chicken leg or tofu added.

Miss Fragrant declined, as usual. Apart from the special green onions, she never wanted anything extra in her fried rice.

Once Heath packed the freshly made egg fried rice into a box and handed it over, Miss Fragrant grabbed it and hurried off into the office building, her pace so brisk that Heath worried she might twist her ankle in those heels.

But Heath had noticed something interesting: the office where Miss Fragrant worked was always the first to fill up in the mornings. He guessed that the staff at her beauty salon all knew her temperament and so tended to arrive earlier and work more diligently than those in neighboring companies.

Yet, the turnover rate at Fragrant Beauty Salon was the lowest in the area, and employee satisfaction the highest. Many staff even said they’d stay as long as the salon existed. This, Heath thought, was thanks to the high salaries, generous benefits, and Miss Fragrant’s own attitude. He’d once seen a TV interview where it was revealed that the salon paid three times the industry average, rarely required overtime, and paid triple for any extra hours worked.

At holidays, staff received large bonuses and other perks. Heath mused that this must be what people meant by a “wolf culture” company: the head wolf not only ate well herself, but shared the meat with the pack, rather than leaving her subordinates with just bones and skin while she patted her full belly and urged them to keep fighting.

But to what end? To buy the boss another house or a new luxury car? Heath felt that someone like Miss Fragrant would succeed wherever she went, simply because of how she treated people.

Just as Heath was preparing to serve the next customer, a squad of Officer Jennys roared up on their motorcycles. Jenny Ling hopped off, waved the crowd aside, and ran up to Heath.

“Heath, pack up your cart—the League Chairman is visiting Evergreen City today,” Jenny Ling said gravely. Heath nodded and quickly began folding up his food cart.

The League was no ordinary organization. Beyond the Elite Four and the Champion, it had other departments, and its highest authority was the League Council, headed by the Chairman—a person of even greater status than the Champion. So, whenever the Chairman came to town, all street vendors were required to clear out. Heath was used to it by now.

In his four years here, the Chairman had visited Evergreen City twice, each time stopping by the city gym for a chat with Sakaki and then awarding Evergreen City the League’s Safe City Medal—a point of pride for Maple and the others.

This kind of emergency didn’t faze Heath at all. He calmly packed up his table and chairs, then drove to a nearby parking lot to wait until the Chairman left before resuming his business.

“Trainer, you’re closing so early today?” Zorua asked in surprise after Heath lifted her down from the cart. The sky wasn’t even dark yet.

“Yeah, street vending isn’t allowed today,” Heath replied, shrugging as he put the book Zorua had been holding back into the cart.

“Char?” Charmander was sipping protein powder from its cup, savoring the taste.

“Charmander says, are we going to battle this afternoon?” Zorua translated, casting a longing glance at the closed cart door—she’d just gotten to the most exciting part of her book!

Heath paused, looked at the expectant Charmander, and scratched his head. Truth be told, he had little interest in battling; his dream was to be a great chef, not a trainer.

But he’d noticed that Charmander seemed enthusiastic about battles…

“Charmander, if you can grill this piece of meat perfectly—crispy on the outside, tender inside—I’ll take you to battle,” Heath said, running back to the cart and fetching a slice of pork belly from the fridge. He skewered it and handed it to Charmander. At the same time, he grabbed Zorua, who was sneaking back to her book, and tossed her to the side, right next to the wing-weary Scallion Duck.

“Hmph!” Zorua snorted, disgruntled, then started whispering secrets with Scallion Duck.

Heath was a little exasperated, but he thought he’d finally figured out Zorua’s naming logic: she liked reduplication. If that was the case, did she call him Heath-Heath?

It just felt… odd.

Charmander took the skewer and, opening its mouth, unleashed a burst of flame—but ended up charring the pork belly to a crisp.

“See? Your flame control still needs work. A truly outstanding Charmander needs perfect mastery over its fire. Keep practicing,” Heath said, chuckling as he ruffled Charmander’s head.

Charmander was recovering fast; most of its bandages were already off.

Charmander nodded determinedly, then tilted its head and made a small cry.

“Charmander says, what are we going to do now?” Zorua translated, before turning back to whisper with Scallion Duck.

Heath glanced around the streets of Evergreen City, then slapped his palm with a decision. Today was a rare chance to indulge.

“Let’s go—off to Food Street!”