Chapter 83: Calling on the Host (Part One)

On Friday, Zhang Wenhao drove at noon to the hidden place in Lane Six, Jiangquan Road, where Qian Ning was staying. He gave her an IV and cooked a meal before parking his car in a residential area near the school. Since he would be going to Su Ruoran’s home for dinner after school, he didn’t plan to retrieve the car again that day. A completely ordinary Passat should not attract much attention. There was nothing of value left in the car except for the pistol Qian Ning had given him, which was a sensitive item. Even Zhang Wenhao didn’t dare carry it on his person, so he carefully hid it before locking the car and heading back to school.

When school let out in the afternoon, Su Ruoran intentionally waited for Zhang Wenhao at the stairwell. Seeing him come down with his backpack, she greeted him with a sweet smile and said, “The driver is already waiting near the school. Let’s go straight over.”

Zhang Wenhao nodded and joked, “Thinking about having dinner with my future mother-in-law tonight, I’m a little nervous.”

Su Ruoran pinched his arm lightly but didn’t rebuke him for his unusual way of addressing her mother. Instead, she said, “My mom’s cooking may not be as good as yours, but it’s not far off. Don’t be too picky. She’s always believed that no one can match her skills in the kitchen. If she finds out you’re even better, her pride might be hurt.”

Zhang Wenhao couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m not stupid. Even if it tastes terrible, I’ll make sure to flatter my future mother-in-law and make her happy.”

The two of them left the school together, walking along the road for about five or six hundred meters before Zhang Wenhao spotted the familiar sedan that often came to pick up Su Ruoran. The driver, wearing white gloves, saw them approaching in his rearview mirror and got out to open the back door. When the two drew near, he greeted them respectfully, “Miss, Mr. Zhang.”

Zhang Wenhao noted the driver was around forty years old and felt awkward being addressed so formally. He hastily said, “Uncle, there’s no need to be so polite. Just call me Zhang Wenhao.”

But the driver remained courteous. “Mr. Zhang, you’re too modest. Please get in. Madam is still waiting at home.”

Su Ruoran nodded, pulled Zhang Wenhao along, and got into the car first. Zhang Wenhao followed her in. Once inside, he noticed the striking emblem in the center of the steering wheel—two overlapping letters ‘R’. Even though Zhang Wenhao knew little about cars, he had at least heard of Rolls-Royce, the top luxury brand. Seeing that this was indeed a Rolls-Royce, he was incredulous. Such a car wouldn’t go for less than five million, surely?

The driver took them to a high-end residential community in Jiangcheng, drove straight into the underground garage, and stopped at the entrance to the building’s corridor. He got out and opened the car door for them.

After getting out, the driver said to Su Ruoran, “Miss, please go on up. Madam also asked me to visit Chen Feng at the hospital.”

Upon hearing the name Chen Feng, Zhang Wenhao asked, “How is Chen Feng doing now?”

The driver replied, “Madam invited an expert from Yanjing to perform surgery for him. The operation was very successful, and he’s now in recovery—almost fully recovered.”

Zhang Wenhao nodded. It made perfect sense to him that Su Ruoran’s mother would have an expert operate on Chen Feng, since he’d been injured saving Su Ruoran. Zhang Wenhao, however, didn’t realize that Chen Feng and Su Ruoran’s mother were actually acquainted.

Su Ruoran led Zhang Wenhao into the elevator, which took them directly to the twelfth floor. Each unit here had only two apartments on each landing, facing each other. Su Ruoran stopped in front of 1201 and rang the doorbell. Soon, the door was opened by a woman in her fifties. Seeing Su Ruoran, she smiled respectfully. “Miss, you’re back. This must be Mr. Zhang?”

Su Ruoran smiled childishly, took the woman’s arm, and said to Zhang Wenhao, “Aunt Chen, this is Zhang Wenhao.”

Zhang Wenhao nodded politely. “Hello, Aunt Chen.”

Aunt Chen looked Zhang Wenhao up and down and smiled. “Mr. Zhang really is a fine young man. Miss has good taste.”

Su Ruoran blushed, shaking Aunt Chen’s arm, and chided, “Aunt Chen, whether Zhang Wenhao is a fine young man is his own doing. What does that have to do with my taste?”

Aunt Chen laughed and nodded. “Mr. Zhang, don’t just stand at the door. Come in. Madam is busy in the kitchen.”

Zhang Wenhao stepped inside and was about to change his shoes, but Aunt Chen insisted he not bother. “Mr. Zhang, there’s no need for such formality at home. Please go to the living room with Miss and sit for a bit.”

Zhang Wenhao felt it was impolite not to change shoes, but Aunt Chen stood firmly by the shoe cabinet, leaving him no choice but to comply.

Su Ruoran led Zhang Wenhao into the living room, where he discovered that the apartment was actually a duplex. In the northwest corner, a staircase led upstairs.

She had him sit with her on the living room sofa and explained, “I’ve always lived here in Jiangcheng. My parents are rarely here; only Aunt Chen keeps me company. Uncle Luo the driver and a few others live in the apartment across the hall.”

Zhang Wenhao nodded, inwardly astonished. The living room alone was nearly forty square meters. Each floor must be about one hundred and fifty, making a total of three hundred for both floors. Yet only Su Ruoran and Aunt Chen lived here, and it was all for Su Ruoran’s schooling in Jiangcheng. Clearly, the Su family doted on her and valued her deeply.

At that moment, Su Ruoran’s mother, Nie Minhui, emerged from the kitchen. Seeing them, she smiled in greeting. “Wenhao, you’re here.”

Zhang Wenhao stood and nodded slightly. “Hello, Aunt Nie.”

Still wearing her apron, Nie Minhui’s hands were damp as she smiled, “Let Ruoran keep you company for a while. Dinner will be ready soon.”

Zhang Wenhao thanked her, and Nie Minhui returned to the kitchen. Aunt Chen brought over two cups of tea, set them before them, and said courteously, “Mr. Zhang, please have some tea.”

Zhang Wenhao found such formality a little hard to get used to, and before he could thank her, Aunt Chen returned with a fruit platter. After another round of politeness, she excused herself to see if Madam needed help in the kitchen.

Once Aunt Chen had gone, Zhang Wenhao finally relaxed a little and whispered to Su Ruoran, “Your family’s hospitality is so formal it’s almost overwhelming.”

Su Ruoran smiled. “Aunt Chen has worked for our family for thirty years. She’s as particular about manners as my grandparents were. I’m not entirely used to it either, but I have to try.”

Zhang Wenhao nodded helplessly. It was hard for him to adapt to such scrupulous etiquette, and he could only count himself lucky to have grown up in an ordinary family.

Nie Minhui remained busy in the kitchen for nearly half an hour before she finally removed her apron and called them for dinner. “Wenhao, Ruoran, the food is ready. Let’s go to the dining room.”

After washing their hands, they sat at the dining table, already laid with six dishes and a soup—all Huaiyang cuisine, including the Pingqiao Tofu that Zhang Wenhao had once made for Su Ruoran.

As she ushered them to their seats, Nie Minhui apologized to Zhang Wenhao, “Wenhao, time was short, so I could only prepare something simple. I hope you don’t mind.”

Zhang Wenhao knew how much time and effort it took to prepare even a single dish. The six dishes and one soup looked exquisite. Even with Aunt Chen helping, it must have taken all afternoon. He thanked her and took his seat opposite Su Ruoran.

The table was rectangular; Zhang Wenhao and Su Ruoran sat on the longer sides, while Nie Minhui sat at the short end. Aunt Chen served soup to each of them, and Nie Minhui said, “Sister Chen, could you please bring a bottle of red wine?”

“Yes, Madam,” Aunt Chen replied, fetching a bottle of wine and three tall glasses. She expertly opened the bottle and poured it into a beautifully crafted decanter.

After a short while, Aunt Chen poured each of them a small glass of wine. Nie Minhui apologized, “We’re having Chinese food today, but a meal without wine doesn’t feel complete. Even though red wine with Chinese food is a bit odd, since we’re at home, let’s not stand on ceremony.”

Aunt Chen told Nie Minhui, “Madam, I’ll step out now. Just call if you need me.”

Nie Minhui nodded. After Aunt Chen left, Nie Minhui slowly swirled her glass, observing Zhang Wenhao and Su Ruoran as she spoke. “Wenhao, I’ve been wanting to invite you over for a meal, but last weekend your father had a reunion with some old comrades, and you’ve both had classes, so it had to wait until today.”

She raised her glass. “I haven’t had a chance to thank you properly. You risked your life to save Ruoran. I am truly, deeply grateful. Words alone can’t express it, and I have no other way to show my thanks. Please accept this toast.”

At this moment, Zhang Wenhao refrained from making perfunctory remarks—too much courtesy would have seemed insincere. Though Nie Minhui’s status and background appeared mysterious and formidable, this simple thank you was something he deserved.

Zhang Wenhao raised his glass and said, “Aunt Nie, once is enough for thanks. Too much and I’m not worthy.” Then, shifting the topic, he added, “I should also thank you for this wonderful meal you’ve prepared.”

Nie Minhui smiled, finding Zhang Wenhao’s composure and words neither arrogant nor servile, which increased her favorable impression of him. “Let’s drink and start the meal before the food gets cold.”