Content or discontent, much like the act of drinking water, one knows for oneself if itās cold or warm. To say Iām content would be too phony, after all. Having served for decades, Iāve seen a stall smaller than Cheng Suās little eatery grow into one of Qing Cityās top restaurants. Itās like watching a child grow up and then, just because of one mistake, being dismissed, leaving it all behind.
How could I possibly be content?
Yet, if discontent, what can be done? Out of sight, out of mind. Ever since Old Liao left, Iāve predicted that this day would come; I just didnāt expect it to come so swiftly.
"Iāve worked for decades now, canāt I take a rest? You little brat, canāt you let your old man enjoy a bit of happiness?" Mr. Song gave Song Xiaojang a knock on the head.
Covering his head, Song Xiaojang winced and said, "Dad, there are outsiders here!"
Cheng Su smiled and said, "Mr. Song, I also think that the young man makes a good point. Such a mistake has too many loopholes, and Iām afraid youāve really fallen into someoneās trap."
In my previous life, Iāve seen plenty of people and events where they turn their back on recognition for the sake of profit. Iāve even seen brothers turn against each other, so whatās an employer-employee relationship in comparison?
Flaws so apparent that anyone with eyes can see what happened, Iām afraid it truly was Liao Shifa pulling the bridge out from under you, intentionally designing a trap for his own benefit.
Mr. Song chuckled bitterly and said, "Whether it was a trap or not, whatās happened has happened, and thereās no need to argue about it anymore. At my age, I also canāt keep up with the work."
"Itās a bit of a pity though. Since the Song familyās ancestors were Imperial Chefs, you canāt let the skills end with you!" Cheng Su commented with a smile.
"Hear that? You better learn how to cook properly, young man," Mr. Song glared at Song Xiaojang and said, "Iām counting on you to support me in my old age."
"Understood!" Song Xiaojang resignedly hung his head.
"Itās getting late, we should get going. Xiao Cheng, Iām really sorry for today, for troubling you," Mr. Song stood up and said.
"Itās okay, who wouldāve thought Iād just be passing by? By logic, I should go buy a lottery ticket," Cheng Su said with a self-deprecatory smile.
She took a look at Song Xiaojang and added, "By the way, where are you currently employed, young man?"
Song Xiaojang was taken aback and asked with annoyance, "Why do you want to know that?"
"When someone asks you, you answer properly. What kind of behavior is this?" Mr. Song scolded again, turning his head to Cheng Su and saying, "Donāt mind this boy. Heās been spoiled by me and his late mother since he was a kid, hasnāt achieved anything, and now heās trying to mimic others by singing, all sorts of nonsense."
"Dad, I call it playing music, I play the guitar, and I compose and write songs!" Song Xiaojang retorted, unable to hold back.
"In the end, itās just singing. You better give up that idea and come back to learn cooking properly with me," Mr. Song commanded.
Song Xiaojangās spirits deflated.
Cheng Suās eyes twinkled slightly as she smiled and said, "Mr. Song, a young man should have some hobbies; just let him be. But, he must do proper work too. Look, my little eatery might be small, but Iām thinking of expanding it, and Iām currently hiring for a chef and delivery staff. If the young man is interested, how about working for me? Iāll pay thirty yuan a month, with year-end bonuses, and food is included."
Mr. Song was taken aback, "But he hasnāt really done anything; youād hire him?
Song Xiaojang also looked at Cheng Su in surprise, with an expression as if she might also have some ulterior motive.
"With a master like you, Mr. Song, I believe the young man can also make delicious dishes. Actually, if Mr. Song is willing to stoop to join us, Iād hire you too, as the head chef, a monthly salary of sixty yuan, plus other benefits. How about it?" Cheng Su offered.