Chapter 78: Theater Tickets

"Ah Xiang, today I’ll teach you how to make braised pork with preserved vegetables. This is a quick method, no choice really, since we’re having it tonight..."

"Brother Sen, has anyone ever told you? A man who can cook is truly handsome." Ah Xiang propped her chin on her hand, her eyes sparkling with admiration.

"Don’t look at me like that, kiddo. If you stare too long, you won’t be able to pull your eyes away, and then you’ll only have yourself to blame," Zhou Sen joked as he deftly sliced the pork belly.

"Hmph, do you take me for a fool?" The girl pouted and snorted. "I’m going to check on Brother Wu En."

Zhou Sen chuckled.

Wu En, that big oaf, obeyed Ah Xiang’s every word. If she were to sell him, he’d probably count out the money for her. Right now, he was next door, turning the mill, grinding soybeans for tofu. Used as a beast of burden, and yet he seemed to enjoy it.

Never mind, letting him burn off some energy wasn’t a bad thing. It’d be a waste not to put that strength to use—he ate so much, after all. What good is it if he doesn’t work?

Besides cooking, Zhou Sen also tried his hand at making pastries. He had quite a few recipes in mind, though rarely had the opportunity to put them into practice. Now, time was no longer an issue.

"You, a dignified police officer, actually staying here as my little chef—aren’t you afraid your superiors will find out and accuse you of neglecting your duties?" Bai Yulan appeared at the kitchen door, watching Zhou Sen as he busied himself.

"I’m off duty today, so they can’t bother me," Zhou Sen laughed, picking up a freshly steamed glutinous rice cake and holding it to Bai Yulan’s lips. "Yulan, try my rose glutinous cake."

Bai Yulan hesitated for a moment, then opened her mouth and took a bite.

A soft, fragrant sweetness filled her mouth. She’d tasted many delicacies, but this rose cake was a first. Seeing the relaxed expression on her face, Zhou Sen knew his pastry was a success and asked happily, "How is it?"

"It’s all right," Bai Yulan replied with reserved composure.

"What do you mean ‘all right’? If it’s good, say it’s good. If it’s not, say it’s not."

"So-so. Not bad," she said, but Zhou Sen had already pushed the remaining half into her mouth.

"Are you trying to choke me?"

"Ha, I can’t bear to."

"Are there more? I’ll take some for the others to taste and give you feedback," Bai Yulan said, casting him a glance.

"There’s plenty. Remember to give me your critique after you try them," Zhou Sen pointed toward the steamer in the kitchen. "I want to improve them."

Bai Yulan took a food box and collected a bit of each pastry Zhou Sen had made, then carried it out.

There were more than a dozen women living at the Fragrant Pavilion. Good things were meant to be shared.

These were the ones who had weathered the storms together, unlike those who left, shortsighted and unreliable.

...

In the northern courtyard.

"Sister Lan, everyone’s talking about you and that policeman—are you really together?" The outspoken Cao Wan’er asked.

"Not yet, don’t overthink," Bai Yulan replied.

Her relationship with Zhou Sen was complicated. Even if they were together, it couldn’t be made public yet, not even among close companions. Some lessons must be learned the hard way.

"Well, Sister Lan must be moved. We’ve never seen you treat a man so well—he comes and goes freely from your courtyard. Sisters, am I right?" Liu Hongying teased as she cracked sunflower seeds.

"Enough already! Even these delicious pastries can’t keep your mouths shut," Bai Yulan coughed lightly. "Since you’ve chosen to stay, unwilling to return to that old life of pleasing others and living under their thumb, we need a way to support ourselves. I’ve been thinking, let’s open a tea house. We’ll be responsible for the tea, and let him supply the pastries and snacks..."

"Who’s ‘him’? Oh..." The women exchanged knowing looks and began to tease.

"I’m serious. Do you think these pastries are good? If they became our tea house’s signature treats, would we have business?" Bai Yulan understood their teasing.

"Sister Lan, it’s a great idea! Fragrant Pavilion is already a place of business; with a bit of renovation, it could be a tea house. We have plenty of foot traffic, so customers won’t be a problem!" Cao Wan’er said.

"Wan’er is right. We have some savings, but we can’t just sit idly by. If we have a business, we’ll have something to rely on."

"Yes, a tea house is good—not too much hard work..."

"I can play the zither to entertain guests!"

"I know a bit of tea ceremony..."

The women spoke up one after another, mostly agreeing with Bai Yulan’s proposal. She hadn’t mentioned a restaurant yet—there was no need to rush.

"Since everyone agrees, let’s settle on opening a tea house. If you have suggestions or ideas, bring them forward."

...

"I have two opera tickets. Why don’t you take Ah Xiang this afternoon?" Bai Yulan took out two tickets at lunch and placed them before Zhou Sen.

"Where did you get these? Why aren’t you going?"

"A friend gave them to me. I’m not well enough, and besides, if I went, it might cause unnecessary trouble," Bai Yulan explained.

"Aren’t there private boxes at the theater?"

"This new performer is all the rage. She might become a renowned star one day. Her tickets are hard to get—I had to pull strings just for these," Bai Yulan said.

"I prefer modern drama. I can’t appreciate traditional opera," Zhou Sen glanced at the tickets. The heading read ‘New Stage’, and he instinctively refused.

"These are general admission. Surely you wouldn’t ask me to go with Ah Xiang—that would be awkward," Bai Yulan frowned slightly.

The tickets were precious. She wanted to go herself, but all the VIP box seats were sold out; she’d only managed to get these two general tickets.

"How about this: I’ll ask around. For hot shows like these, theater owners usually reserve good seats for emergencies," Zhou Sen grinned.

"Who will you call?"

"May I borrow your phone?"

"It’s in the study," Bai Yulan nodded reluctantly.

...

Zhou Sen entered Bai Yulan’s study, sat down, picked up the telephone and dialed a number. On the other end, a groggy voice answered.

"Hello, who is this?"

"Second Young Master Qin, do you remember me?" Zhou Sen chuckled.

A brusque voice suddenly shouted over the phone: "You again! What do you want, Zhou?"

"Second Young Master Qin, it’s midday—no need for such temper. I need a favor," Zhou Sen said, holding the receiver a bit away.

"Get lost!"

With a roar, Qin Lang slammed down the phone.

Zhou Sen paused. Qin Lang’s temper was high—he must have been woken up. So Zhou Sen dialed again.

"Hello, who is it now?"

"Still me, Second Young Master Qin. If you hang up again, I’ll make our relationship public!" Zhou Sen threatened.

"Zhou, you’re ruthless. What do you want?" Qin Lang cursed. If Qin Seventh Master and his elder brother learned all his news came from Zhou Sen, he’d be in real trouble.

"Two tickets for Xiao Xiangning’s show, VIP box, this afternoon."

"Why don’t you drop dead? If I get you tickets, everyone will know I’m connected to you!" Qin Lang exploded.

"With your abilities, Second Young Master, surely you can avoid being noticed," Zhou Sen laughed.

"You..." Qin Lang was so angry he wanted to smash the phone. He regretted ever getting involved, especially after agreeing to Jin Suying’s request to detain Zhou Sen’s man Ye San.

Now Zhou Sen had him over a barrel.

"In Seventh Master’s eyes, your elder brother is still the prime heir to the Qin family, and you’ll always live in his shadow. Besides, he has an excellent father-in-law, something you can’t match..."

"Fine, just two VIP box tickets. I’ll get them for you," Qin Lang wasn’t stupid. Su Wenqing’s conflict with the Qin family had clearly been orchestrated, and Zhou Sen was behind it. Even if he was just a pawn, he was no pushover.

He knew Zhou Sen had guts—a man who dared to come alone demanding his subordinate was no coward.

"Thanks. I’ll pay you for the tickets—I won’t take advantage."

"No need!" Qin Lang snapped, then hung up again in frustration.

...

"You can give these two tickets away now," Zhou Sen returned and slid the general admission tickets across the table to Bai Yulan.

"You really got VIP box tickets?" Bai Yulan was astonished.

"Of course," Zhou Sen replied. "Hurry up and eat—after lunch, I’ll take you to pick up the tickets and drop you off at the theater."

"Or you and Wu En can go instead. That way, when the show ends, you can come back with us?" Bai Yulan suggested.

To be honest, Zhou Sen was tempted. After all, it had been over ten years since he’d last seen her. The original Zhou Sen still missed her deeply. Not meeting, not disturbing—but if he could catch a distant glimpse from the audience, it would be enough.

"All right," Zhou Sen agreed.

...

In front of the Old Benevolent Hall, Zhou Sen met Qin Lang, who had come to deliver the tickets. To avoid being recognized, Qin Lang had deliberately changed into a shabby dogskin coat and lantern-shaped padded pants, looking like a cart driver.

"Zhou, you’re really just milking me, aren’t you?" Qin Lang said, showing Zhou Sen no courtesy.

"Second Young Master Qin, the enemy of my enemy is my friend. We have no great enmity—our interests align. If I win, it’s no harm to you. But if your brother wins, your life won’t be easy," Zhou Sen reminded him.

"I always feel that getting mixed up with you brings nothing but trouble," Qin Lang grumbled.

"Depends how you look at it. Su Wenqing wants to take your father’s position as president of the Chamber of Commerce. What if you help him secure it?"

"You—you have a way..." Qin Lang was startled.

"The Chamber President isn’t up to you or me. Only the Japanese make the call. If they want a dog as president, who would dare object?" Zhou Sen laughed.

Qin Lang’s gaze sharpened. Yes, in Manchukuo, the Japanese called the shots. The Chamber of Commerce in Ice City was no exception.

Zhou Sen was a police officer, rumored to have good relations with the Japanese. Perhaps he could really help.

"Brother Sen, I apologize for my earlier words..."