Chapter 111: Investing in a Restaurant

Aunt Meifang was crushed after realizing her son couldn’t measure up to others. Her whole mood fell through the floor, and the “stir up trouble and join the excitement” string inside her seemed to go slack as well.

Yuan An and Yun He both let out a sigh of relief. They’d been terrified this oblivious auntie might also end up experiencing that humiliating “three minutes back as a little brat in split-crotch pants.” For someone her age, that would be a matter of pride and face. They were afraid she wouldn’t be able to live it down and, in a fit of shame and fury, do something dramatic like “prove her resolve through death.” That would be… very bad.

Unfortunately, they guessed the beginning—but not the ending.

One time, Aunt Meifang accidentally witnessed Wu Xingyu reverse time and turn someone back into a little kid, and her blood immediately ran hot. From then on she showed up at his door every day with food and drink, grinding up Wu Xingyu’s “favorability,” all just to beg him to roll her time back several decades—back to when she was eighteen and “a blossom in her prime.”

The way she fussed over him—asking after his health, keeping him warm, constantly attentive—was more thorough than a real mother. So thorough that even Wu Xingyu’s perpetually cold face couldn’t hold. Every time he saw Aunt Meifang, he’d turn and run, which made everyone who knew his true nature absolutely dumbfounded.

This kid… actually had a day when he had to hide from someone. Hahahaha—

Ahem. Enough of that. Back to the present.

After Aunt Meifang, that “thorny one,” finally quieted down, Yun Qimu took the opportunity to hold an outdoor staff meeting.

At the meeting she called out several employees who’d contributed, such as: a certain big-built Sky Dog tribesman who worked the hardest at clearing land, Cook who improved the loom and boosted weaving efficiency to a new level, and Hualan, who was quite good at tailoring.

Yun Qimu gave them verbal commendations as “active contributors,” and handed out a round of rewards to each of them.

Cook, who had the greatest merit, received a Jingjing Beast rib bone, a sharp dagger, and one bolt of cloth.

The other active contributors also received Mengji meat and a piece of cloth each.

As for everyone else, Yun Qimu didn’t let them go home empty-handed either—she reached into her storage slot and grabbed each person a handful of danmu soft candy as encouragement.

After that wave of operations, the workers became even more enthusiastic, and Yun Qimu successfully earned the reputation of being a generous boss—laying a solid foundation for recruiting more labor in the future.

Yun Qimu smiled with crescent eyes as she looked at Hualan in the crowd—quiet, composed, and elegant with a gentle smile. She lifted her brow slightly, and a certain idea took shape.

“All right, all right—let’s go home and eat!”

Once the staff meeting ended, everyone happily returned to their own homes. Yun Qimu took Yun Xiaoyu by the hand and led Yun Dad back toward their wooden house.

“What do you two want to eat tonight?” she asked with a smile, walking as the snow crunched shasha beneath her feet.

Yun Xiaoyu tilted his head up at her, star-bright eyes shining. “Can we have pumpkin? Dad wants sweet pumpkin soup.”

Yun Qimu chuckled and tapped his little nose. “I think you want it.”

Yun Xiaoyu guiltily turned his face away. “No, I don’t. Dad loves it too. Last time Dad drank more than half the pot, right Dad?”

Yun Dad held his soft little hand. Meeting his son’s expectant gaze, he flashed a big toothy grin and nodded honestly. “Mm.”

Yun Xiaoyu was satisfied, then shot Yun Qimu a small, provocative look—see?

Yun Qimu smiled at the little rascal. “Fine. We just happen to have the last pumpkin left. I’ll make pumpkin soup for you two.”

Yun Xiaoyu immediately broke into a huge grin, delighted. Then he bounced and raised his little hand. “Today A’er and I learned a new dish at Brother Tang En’s place. It’s called white-cut chicken. Brother Tang En even gave me a bowl of dipping sauce.”

“Did you learn it?”

Yun Xiaoyu puffed out his little chest proudly. “I did. I learned it after watching once—it’s super easy. I made it for Dad at noon. It was really good, right Dad?”

Yun Dad, still cheerfully playing along, nodded hard. “Xiaoyu’s the best. White-cut chicken is good.”

Yun Qimu laughed too, indulging his need to show off.

“Alright then. Tonight you make the white-cut chicken. I got a kind of especially delicious meat from killing mobs today—Jingjing Beast meat. I can make braised ribs, and we’ll stir-fry a plate of little greens. Four dishes tonight—how about that?”

“Okay!”

The family of three happily turned into their wooden house and started bustling around, each taking a task.

Yun Dad peeled the pumpkin. Yun Xiaoyu washed vegetables. Yun Qimu cleaned the pots and bowls and prepared the other ingredients. The wooden house instantly became lively and warm.

Behind them, Wu Xingyu and the others were blocked outside by the wooden fence, staring in envy at the father and daughter and son inside.

Wu Xingyu shot Yun He, Yuan An, and Pei Yu a look of pure disdain. “That kid learned white-cut chicken after watching once. And you?”

Pei Yu, Yun He, Yuan An: Sorry—we’ve embarrassed the adults.

The four of them stood outside the fence for a while longer, reluctant to return to their own cold wooden house with zero “human warmth.”

“Let’s go. We’ll find Tang En,” Wu Xingyu said first, drawing his gaze back from Yun Qimu’s yard. His expressionless face carried a chill as his long legs turned toward the neighboring wooden house.

The other three strolled after him. The last few days, they’d been getting through meals this way.

Fortunately the ingredients were good, and Tang En’s cooking was decent, so they’d been eating quite well. The only downside was that Tang En’s wooden house was too small—his table couldn’t fit all of them.

“If only we had a restaurant. Eating out every day would be way more comfortable than squeezing into Tang En’s place,” Pei Yu muttered casually.

But that casual remark stuck in Wu Xingyu’s mind.

The next morning, the heavy snow had just let up. Warm light—who knew from where—poured down, and it looked like it would be a good day.

Yun Qimu looked at Wu Xingyu standing outside the fence—handsome, upright, and refined. He wore a black cotton jacket, neatly pressed and smooth. It wasn’t flashy at all, yet it looked exceptionally sharp and dashing—emphasizing his height and long legs, and making his proud aura stand out even more.

Yun Qimu was so dazzled she blanked for a moment. Then she shook her head and got back on topic. “You’re saying you want to invest in a restaurant?”

“Mm.” Wu Xingyu nodded, still wearing that icy beauty-face, expressionless.

“Why? Opening a restaurant right now won’t make money. The villagers are still in the early stages—nobody has cash to eat out.”

Yun Qimu was puzzled. She understood this man—his eyes practically had money bags in them. A restaurant was obviously not the most profitable project right now; the early phase would definitely be heavy investment with light returns. How had he suddenly changed his nature and decided to lose money?

Wu Xingyu’s face stayed blank. His reason was overpoweringly simple. “Because I want to eat.”

Yun Qimu: “…Don’t you all just pay Tang En to cook for you?”

“It’s inconvenient.”

“Then you’re not afraid the restaurant will lose money?”

“Not afraid. We’ll earn it back later.”

Meaning: even if it didn’t profit at first, it would profit later—so long as they had a good chef and the right people, they didn’t need to worry about customers not coming.

Food, clothing, housing, transport—“food” was one of the most profitable categories. As a seasoned businessman, Wu Xingyu understood the profit logic perfectly, and he was willing to invest early.

“Alright. Since you’ve thought it through, I’ll allow you to invest.” Lighting up another shop made Yun Qimu so happy her brows and eyes curved into a bright smile.