Chapter Fifteen: The Shadowy Shop

The sound of her phone vibrating made Xian Hongye feel extremely embarrassed.

When she had first come to this Huaiyang restaurant, the owner had sternly warned her several times: to ensure the dining experience, guests were not allowed to bring phones; all communication devices must be handed over to the restaurant for safekeeping during the meal.

But Hongye couldn’t be without her phone. As a manager at her office, she needed to be in constant contact with Beijing for business matters. So she played a little trick, setting her phone to vibrate. If it rang, she would excuse herself to the restroom to take the call.

The crucial problem, however, was that her phone's vibration was a bit too loud. In such a quiet environment, everyone could hear it clearly.

At that moment, the owner’s expression changed.

Hongye gave an awkward smile and claimed she needed to use the restroom, giving herself an excuse to leave. She hurriedly left the table and rushed to the bathroom to answer the call.

But when she finished and stepped out, the owner was already waiting with security.

The owner smiled and apologized, promptly refunded her membership fee, and informed her that because she had violated the restaurant's rules, she could no longer enjoy VIP services and must leave immediately.

Though he smiled, the owner was resolute. He even refused her request to wait for her colleagues. They expelled Hongye as if she were the plague.

So, Hongye was driven out of the restaurant alone.

After that, she never returned.

I scratched my head and said, "You said the food was just ordinary Huaiyang cuisine, right? Spring noodles, lion’s head meatballs… How could there be anything wrong with their food? I think this meal should be safe! Safe!"

I wasn't pretending to be mysterious or feigning knowledge; I genuinely felt there shouldn’t be any problem with her meal.

I could even boldly declare that as long as Huaiyang cuisine tastes fresh and fragrant, there shouldn't be anything strange in it.

Of course, this all comes down to the characteristics of Huaiyang cuisine.

Huaiyang dishes are renowned for their lightness and fresh aroma, using minimal salt and vinegar. Of all the Chinese culinary traditions, they are the most famous for their purity—"the true flavor of food"—the lightest and most refreshing of the four great cuisines. If anything like blood, poison, or witchcraft were added, it would be quickly detected.

I could say with confidence that as long as nothing like modern poisons is involved, anyone would notice something amiss.

My former squad leader once told me that dirty or toxic things, moldy or rotten substances, always have a foul stench that's impossible to mask.

Even with Huaiyang’s delicate flavors, if vegetables are left for just a day too long, the dish tastes different. Trying to poison or add witchcraft without altering the flavor is nearly impossible.

So I shared my thoughts with Hongye and urged her to consider other possibilities.

But Hongye didn’t change her mind.

She shook her head and said, "I really didn’t taste anything unusual, but when I went out to take the call, I saw something in my colleague’s bird’s nest soup! At first, I thought it was an illusion, but now…"

"What? Tell us!" Wang Hou and I demanded simultaneously.

"A pair of eyes!" Hongye’s voice trembled deeply.

A pair of eyes?! I wasn’t sure I’d heard right. That crystal-clear bird’s nest soup, a delicacy that tolerates no impurity—how could there be a pair of eyes in it, unnoticed by everyone else?

Hongye explained that as she stood up, she noticed one bowl of bird’s nest soup tremble unnaturally, not caused by her movement.

Her powers of observation were strong, and she immediately caught this oddity.

Curious, she stared at the bird’s nest soup.

Then, she saw two tiny black dots, about the size of mung beans, swimming a lap in the soup before vanishing among the broth and goji berries.

Recalling this, Hongye shook her head, saying, "I thought it was just a trick of the light, but thinking back… those black dots felt like eyes! Eyes of some unknown creature."

She then shared more information and doubts.

After that meal, several of her colleagues continued to dine there now and then. Later, two key staff members suddenly resigned. Another senior colleague has been unreachable ever since, as if vanished from the earth.

At first, she hadn’t paid much attention—state-owned enterprises are often loosely managed. But now, she felt everything started from that restaurant.

After hearing her story, Wang Hou and I were silent.

I wondered: if there was a way to get these gluttonous bugs into people, how did they do it? And if they could, what was their goal? I couldn’t figure it out.

Suddenly, Hongye spoke: "That private restaurant—could it be using these appetite-inducing ‘poison bugs’ to make money?"

Her words startled me!

Why not? How is this different from kidnapping? Using insects to control people’s appetites, making them feel only satisfied at that restaurant.

Otherwise, like Hongye, they would never feel satiated anywhere else. It’s similar to adding drugs to food to make customers addicted! Only their method is more sophisticated, more secretive, and more malicious.

I cursed, "Conscience! Do these people have any conscience left?"

We immediately decided: we must pay this private restaurant a visit. I wanted to see for myself how many hearts the owner and head chef have.

When Wang Hou drove us back to my restaurant, I asked him to give Hongye her medicine.

This time, I watched nervously as Hongye drank the thick herbal concoction. My heart was in my throat.

I knew that if this didn’t work, I would have no face left to meet the public—and Wang Hou would tear me apart.

Under our watchful eyes, Hongye drank the entire bowl, wiped her mouth gently, and frowned slightly.

At that moment, I noticed her face flush red again!

"Don’t tell me it’s still ineffective!" I exclaimed, instinctively shielding my cheeks.

But just then, Hongye smiled and said, "My stomach feels much better now. But the medicine tastes earthy—not pleasant!"

Thank goodness nothing went wrong…

Relaxed, I told Wang Hou not to leave her side, to protect her as faithfully as he once guarded his commanding officer.

Then I stood up, ignoring my meal, and prepared to head out, wanting to check out the "True Flavor Private Restaurant" myself.

Before I left, I had Hongye write down the address.

After she finished, Hongye advised me, "That restaurant is hard to enter. They only serve members and guests with referrals! Security is strict. You can’t just barge in."

I nodded lightly, half-joking, "I know! If they won’t let me eat pork, at least let me watch the pigs run! Don’t worry, I’m just going to look around. Test the waters."

Then I plunged into the vast night, clutching the address Hongye gave me, heading straight for the True Flavor Private Restaurant.

Our county isn’t large; following Hongye’s directions, even walking, I could reach the spot in half an hour.

As I walked, I didn’t idle. I called my old squad leader.

I sensed the situation was growing complicated. If someone was using food to harm people and make money, it wouldn’t be just one or two people’s scheme—it must be a group, and a group versed in shady arts.

To deal with this, I’d need my squad leader’s help.

After all, what I knew was only surface-level.

I didn’t even know the name of the "ghost face" in Hongye’s stomach!

Moreover, I hadn’t seen my squad leader in five or six years. This past half-year, busy with restaurant renovations, I hadn’t called him once.

As his apprentice, it was time I reconnected.

I remembered how lost I felt after leaving the army. After tearful farewells, I called him almost daily. It was his encouragement that helped me regain my drive.

Later, work kept me busy, and our contact faded, especially these last six months while I focused on renovations. I barely found time for even a phone call…

In my reminiscence, I realized that time can dilute many things, but a phone call can restore much.

So, nervous and somewhat emotional, I dialed my squad leader in Shandong.

But instead of reaching him, the call left me more dejected and anxious.

No one answered.

My heart skipped a beat.

I tried three more times—still no answer.

All I got was the endless ringing.

I couldn’t help but speculate about his situation.

If he had changed numbers, he’d have told me. Why wasn't he answering? Was it too late, or had something urgent happened, leaving him unable to take my call…

While pondering his situation, I arrived at the entrance to the True Flavor Private Restaurant.

Helpless, I gathered myself and, following the address, quickly found a narrow alley of blue bricks. At its end, I saw an inconspicuous, even signless, fence gate.

That gate was the entrance to the True Flavor Private Restaurant.

The gate was quaint, old-fashioned, and compact, with a crimson post and vermilion door, barely wide enough for one person. Above it hung…

…hang a green lantern?!

When I saw that fence gate, especially the green lantern above it, all the courage I’d summoned to investigate vanished, replaced by uncontrollable bewilderment and fear.

I could hardly believe my own eyes! I rubbed them, hoping the lantern was just a trick of the mind.

But unfortunately, the green lantern was real.

There was only one, yet it shone like a will-o’-the-wisp, glaring and eerie!

"Damn!" I blurted out, then turned and fled from the restaurant door, running back to my own place as if escaping a plague.

Of course, it wasn’t because I was timid, but because I knew—a place with only a green lantern hanging outside…

…is a "ghost shop"!