Chapter 67: He Won't Act Recklessly

Early the next morning, a large crowd gathered at the entrance of Qiu Fengyu’s noodle shop. All of them were acquaintances, some quite familiar, which startled Qiu Fengyu when he opened the door, awakened by the noisy commotion.

“I’m truly sorry, you didn’t deserve this…” Leading the group was Josh Britt, who opened his arms and embraced Qiu Fengyu. “I heard the news last night in a hotel in Paso City.”

“It’s nothing!” Qiu Fengyu could only insist that he was indeed fine. “I’m alright, thank you, Josh. That’s very thoughtful of you, thank you!”

Those in line stepped forward to shake hands and hug Qiu Fengyu, offering their condolences.

“Buddy, I don’t know what caused it, but your house didn’t just catch fire—it exploded. It was like a sudden blast, and only then did it start burning,” said Ray Breslin, the watchmaker, gripping Qiu Fengyu’s hand and recounting what he saw and heard.

“I know, Ray. You’re a good man. You tried to stop it, but the fire was too fierce. I understand your intentions.” Qiu Fengyu leaned his shoulder in, and the two shared an embrace.

One by one, people came to hug him; some patted his back and simply said, “Sorry for your loss.” Others said nothing, just holding his hand tightly and patting shoulders.

Qiu Fengyu suddenly found these people genuinely endearing.

He wanted to invite them to sit, but no one stayed. They knew Qiu Fengyu needed time to handle the aftermath. After offering their comfort, they all chose to leave.

Soon, only Qiu Fengyu, Britt, and Tim remained in the shop.

“Do you know what caused the fire?” Britt asked.

Qiu Fengyu smiled. “Maybe it was the gas—who knows? I still haven’t received a report from any department. I don’t even know how to proceed with the insurance.”

The house didn’t belong to Qiu Fengyu, but to Sirsha, which complicated matters. Only Davis could contact Sirsha now; Qiu Fengyu would ask him later.

“Do you plan to rebuild? If you need my help, just ask.”

“Uh, not for now… Tim, starting tonight, don’t stick so close to me. I don’t like seeing your sentimental face—it’s like a woman’s,” Qiu Fengyu said to Tim, who was cleaning.

“Look at the treatment I get! Do you think I’ll miss it, Mr. Britt?” Tim joked, smiling at Britt. “Boss, I’m not sentimental. I’m a man with a plan.”

A man with a plan? Qiu Fengyu laughed, recognizing this as a reminder to make his own plans. Britt spoke a few words to Tim, instructing him to sleep at his house from now on. Tim agreed, and Britt left, satisfied.

A little later, Davis arrived.

He waited until Tim’s back was turned, then whispered to Qiu Fengyu, “What are you going to do?”

“Maybe the gas pipe exploded… Who knows what to do? By the way, I want to contact Sirsha about the house and the insurance…” Qiu Fengyu didn’t want Davis involved, though he knew Davis wouldn’t believe him and would make connections.

“I’ve already reached out to her,” Davis nodded, taking the initiative. He was invested in Qiu Fengyu’s affairs. “There might be some trouble, but she’ll sign a transfer agreement, fully authorizing you to handle it, including the insurance claim. She wants to treat it as payment for you.”

Qiu Fengyu said nothing. Since Sirsha had already made arrangements, he’d wait. It was actually straightforward; there was no need for Sirsha to return, just a legally binding authorization.

While tidying the shop, Qiu Fengyu asked, “Have you had breakfast?”

“No, not yet. I wanted to come early!” Davis replied, though he felt a bit embarrassed—early? It was already past nine.

So they made dumplings.

Davis had an impressive appetite, eating half of the dumplings, while Qiu Fengyu and Tim together barely matched his portion.

Tim’s holiday was nearly over; tomorrow he’d return to school, though in two weeks, Halloween would come. They’d likely get a day off, though this grand festival would be bittersweet for Qiu Fengyu and Tim.

The Japanese family still arrived early, except for the young man, Masatoshi Yonekura, who hadn’t come. While Qiu Fengyu was busy preparing ramen, the middle-aged man, Kenzo Yonekura, approached him.

“Mr. Qiu, I’m truly sorry. If you need my help, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

“I’m fine, thank you very much!” Kenzo Yonekura nodded solemnly and returned to his seat.

The two beautiful ladies, one older and one younger, followed after Kenzo sat down. The older one softly said to Qiu Fengyu, “I’m very sorry…”

“Thank you.” Qiu Fengyu smiled at her, then crouched down and pinched the little girl’s cheek—Minami Yonekura’s face still had a babyish roundness. He said with a smile, “It’s not a big deal, just a house.”

Just a house? The older lady smiled, then led the little girl back to their seat. Yet as the little girl turned, she glanced back at Qiu Fengyu and mimed wiping tears, making him feel she was a little healer, a magician of comfort.

“I like that little girl!” Tim said to Qiu Fengyu. “She’s adorable, and beautiful!”

“She’s only ten, Tim.”

Tim’s face darkened, feeling defeated by Qiu Fengyu, and went off to clean tables.

With Qiu Fengyu’s house destroyed, he seemed overnight to have become a figure of sympathy. Whether people knew him or not, when passing his shop—regardless of whether they stopped for noodles—they would express their regrets.

“I hadn’t lived in Sirsha’s house for long. Wasn’t I living the same way before? In the attic, and no one ever bothered to say, ‘Hey, Qiu, I’m sorry.’” After so many occurrences, even Qiu Fengyu, who had once found it novel, felt helpless and complained to Davis.

“No one ever told me, ‘Hey, Harry, you unlucky guy, come with me, I’ll feed you, give you drink, and even money.’ No one. They didn’t see me as pitiful, just as a scoundrel.” Davis shrugged indifferently.

After finishing their work, Davis paused at the door as he left. “I know it wasn’t the gas pipes, was it?”

“No, it was the gas pipes.” Qiu Fengyu glanced at Davis. “At least, that’s what the official report will probably say. So… everything stays the same. Be on time tomorrow for work!” The boss’s order was clear.

Davis hesitated, then had to leave.

“Boss, don’t ever let that guy join our team!” Tim said seriously, watching Davis disappear. “I don’t trust him.”

“He probably doesn’t trust you either. It’s all about adapting.” Qiu Fengyu laughed. “He can guess the real reason.”

Qiu Fengyu’s calm demeanor seemed like normal life, as if he’d accepted his fate. To those unfamiliar with him, it all seemed ordinary—a house burned, insurance will cover it, life goes on. But Corfin saw it differently; she knew exactly who Qiu Fengyu was.

So the last thing Corfin wanted was for Qiu Fengyu to do anything rash. She was worried—the forces on the other side were too powerful, and for someone like Qiu Fengyu, it was truly dangerous.

Thus, whenever Qiu Fengyu shut the shop, he’d see Corfin’s police car pass by, and she’d wave at him. Obediently, Qiu Fengyu would go over, grinning, “Reporting for duty, Ranger!”

Corfin laughed. “What kind of ranger are you? You’re tougher than a SEAL.”

The Navy SEALs are among America’s elite special forces, famed for numerous overseas missions, most notably their raid in May 2011 to eliminate the world’s most notorious terrorist leader—a feat that brought them global renown.

Alright, tougher than a SEAL then. Qiu Fengyu shrugged. “You want to keep an eye on me?”

“No, I’m worried about you. I don’t want to lose you as a friend,” Corfin said cautiously. “I lost my father, lost Chief Break, and I don’t want to lose you. They were family to me. You are too!”

Her words made Qiu Fengyu a bit embarrassed. Though he had a good rapport with Corfin, it had never reached the level of family. He hadn’t expected her to be so emotional.

“I promise… I won’t do anything reckless!” Qiu Fengyu raised his hand in oath.

Satisfied, Corfin nodded and drove away. Reckless? Of course not. It has to be planned, only then will it succeed. Qiu Fengyu would never allow the threat to linger by his side.