Chapter Forty-Two: Settling the Bill

“So what if you owe money?” Zhang Mingyang pointed at Ma San and shouted.

“Zhang Mingyang, that’s enough!” Ma San’s composure was slipping; his face was so grim it seemed about to drip water.

“Third Brother, should we deal with him?” The two lackeys beside him thrust their hands into their pockets.

Xu Fei glanced over and could tell there was something hard inside—probably knives or something similar.

“Third Brother, forget it. We can eat anything tonight. If they want the braised yellow croaker, let them have it,” Xu Fei said, pulling Zhang Mingyang towards their room.

“What did you say?” Ma San sneered, stepping forward and pointing at Xu Fei. “Braised yellow croaker? You think you deserve it?”

“Ma San, you're too much!” Zhang Mingyang, who was about to enter the room, turned to glare at Ma San.

“I said he doesn’t deserve it. Am I wrong? Someone like him can’t even afford the fish bones, and he wants to let me have the dish?”

Xu Fei frowned at Ma San. “So, you’re saying I can’t afford it?”

“Isn’t that the case?” Ma San looked at Xu Fei with disdain. “Even if I don’t order it tonight, do you really think you can afford it?”

“So you say I can’t?” Xu Fei asked.

“That’s right!”

Xu Fei smiled faintly. “So, does that mean you’re not ordering the dish?”

“If you order it, I’ll let you have it,” Ma San replied.

Xu Fei turned to the waiter. “You heard him—he doesn’t want the dish. Then please bring the braised yellow croaker to our room.”

The waiter glanced at Ma San.

“Give it to him. I want to see how he manages to pay for it,” Ma San scoffed.

At that moment, another waiter approached with a dish covered by a domed metal lid.

“Braised yellow croaker,” the waiter announced, looking around.

“This room,” Ma San said with a cold smile, pointing toward Xu Fei’s room.

The waiter hesitated, glancing at his colleague.

His colleague only gave a wry smile and nodded.

The dish was brought into Xu Fei’s room.

“Ma San, just wait outside and enjoy the aroma!” Zhang Mingyang called out before stepping inside.

Ma San was stunned. “You… you all…”

He stood at the doorway, hardly able to believe it, watching as Xu Fei and the others sat back down at their table.

“Ma San, are you really going to stand there and smell the food? Go do something else!” Zhang Mingyang waved dismissively at the waiter.

“Close the door.”

The waiter gave Ma San an apologetic smile and closed the door.

Laughter erupted from inside the room.

Ma San stood outside, dumbfounded.

“Third Brother, what now?”

“They actually ordered it?”

“So, what do we do next?”

Ma San shot an angry glare at his lackeys. “Do what? It’s not like we haven’t eaten it before. Damn it, I want to see how Xu Fei pays for this. Eighty-eight yuan for braised yellow croaker—I don’t believe it. How could Xu Fei possibly have the money to pay?”

With that, he turned and went back to his own room.

A minor episode, but Xu Fei felt thoroughly satisfied.

Ma San had always given him grief over the debt, causing endless trouble. Today, at least half that resentment was vented.

“If you hadn’t held me back, I would’ve given Ma San a real beating today,” Zhang Mingyang said, still fuming.

“Third Brother, he’s not worth it.”

Soon, all the dishes they ordered arrived.

Not long after, Director Shen and Chen Da entered.

Xu Fei and the others hurried to give Director Shen the honored seat.

“Xu Fei, I heard from Bao Pengfei that your millet has arrived? Not bad. I’m impressed—you managed to get ten thousand catties in just one day. That’s quite a feat,” Director Shen said.

Xu Fei smiled. “Director Shen, it’s thanks to an old friend from my hometown. There’s plenty of millet there, so collecting it wasn’t too difficult.”

Chen Da, meanwhile, eyed the metal dome in the center of the table, puzzled. “What’s this?”

Zhang Mingyang grinned mysteriously. “Boss Chen, take a guess.”

“It’s my first time seeing a dish served under a metal dome at De Yue House. Is it…?” Chen Da suddenly seemed to realize something, his expression freezing. “It can’t be that dish…”

Wang Yiming nodded with a smile. “Since Old Four invited Director Shen tonight to thank him for his help, we had to order a signature dish for him.”

“That’s right. For someone like Uncle Shen, only the most famous braised yellow croaker in Donghai will do,” Zhang Mingyang said as he stood and lifted the metal cover.

Instantly, the rich aroma filled the entire room.

Director Shen Shuming was momentarily taken aback as he saw the dish. “This… this really is braised yellow croaker!”

He had only tasted it once before, more than ten years ago, when he accompanied Zhang Mingyang’s father while hosting an important superior.

“Uncle Shen, you recognize it?” Zhang Mingyang asked.

Shen Shuming glanced at him. “Yes, I had it with your father. But that was a long time ago.”

Xu Fei picked up the bottle of baijiu, walked over to Shen Shuming, and filled his glass personally.

Once everyone’s glasses were filled, he returned to his seat, poured himself a drink, and raised his glass. “This toast is for all of you. I only have two words: thank you.”

Everyone raised their glasses in response.

Shen Shuming nodded with satisfaction.

“Xu Fei, you haven’t let me down. It seems the future really does belong to young people like you,” Shen said.

Zhang Mingyang laughed. “Uncle Shen, no matter how far we go, we’ll always need the leadership of veterans like you.”

Shen Shuming smiled and nodded.

The group drank and chatted, the atmosphere lively and warm.

Meanwhile, Ma San sat downstairs at a scattered table.

His two lackeys, cigarettes dangling from their lips, asked in confusion, “Third Brother, what are we doing?”

“Waiting. I want to see how that kid pays the bill.”

“He still owes us money—how could he possibly have enough to settle the bill? Unless Zhang Mingyang helps him…”

“Him?” Ma San sneered, his eyes narrowing. “Do you know how much their table cost tonight, just for going downstairs?”

The two lackeys shook their heads.

“This much,” Ma San said, holding up three fingers.

“Three—three hundred?” they gasped.

Ma San himself had been shocked when he heard the number. Three hundred yuan! That’s no small sum. In all of Binhai, there couldn’t be many people who would spend that kind of money on a meal—probably only the top brass.

“Even Zhang Mingyang can’t pay such a sum. And they’re entertaining that old man, Shen Shuming.”

Just then, Xu Fei came down the stairs alone.

He glanced at Ma San, then headed for the cashier.

Ma San stood up and signaled his lackeys, and the three of them followed him over.

“Time to settle the bill.”