NHWSG chapter 10

“Didn’t you say you don’t know how to make dry pot?” Xing Yingzhuo raised an eyebrow.

Sheng Zhao’s forced smile widened a bit more, appearing somewhat flattering. “I can look up a tutorial online.”

Since Xing Yingzhuo had peculiar eating habits – being extremely picky about ingredients and presentation but highly accepting of taste – as long as the dish wasn’t hard to swallow, there seemed to be no significant difference to him between “ordinary” and “delicious.”

He dismissed Sheng Zhao’s attempt to please him, casually sizing him up, making him visibly uncomfortable. Eventually, he revealed a slightly malicious smile.

“If you have any guilty conscience, spill it now; there’s still time.” Xing Yingzhuo said.

“It’s nothing, just…” Sheng Zhao cautiously made a small gesture with his hand, testing the waters. “Boss, can I take a short leave next week?”

Xing Yingzhuo’s smile diminished by half, showing a displeased expression.

Knowing that asking for leave from the boss was as difficult as borrowing money, and since his job was already excessively idle, he couldn’t justify asking for time off during working hours. However, he had an urgent matter to attend to.

“I really have something urgent to deal with outside.” Sheng Zhao said, sounding a bit troubled. “Boss, I haven’t taken any leave in the few months I’ve been working here.”

“What’s the matter?” Xing Yingzhuo asked straightforwardly.

Sheng Zhao hesitated for a moment, ran his hand through his hair, and a fleeting expression of annoyance and subtle distress crossed his face.

“Actually, it’s nothing major,” he said. “It’s my mom’s remarriage, and she wants me to attend.”

Xing Yingzhuo tilted his head in confusion.

“It’s, well, a second marriage,” Sheng Zhao seemed reluctant to say more. “You know, boss.”

In fact, Xing Yingzhuo had no clear understanding of Sheng Zhao’s background. He hadn’t even read Sheng Zhao’s resume from the initial interview. If Sheng Zhao hadn’t mentioned his family, he would have assumed he was like everyone else in the building – an individual not responsible for anyone else.

Though Xing Yingzhuo couldn’t quite comprehend the idea of “family bonds,” he had spent enough time in the mortal realm to grasp some basic social skills.

However, according to his own perspective, he wasn’t particularly pleased with Sheng Zhao going out at this time. He hadn’t figured out Sheng Zhao’s secrets, and the recent abnormal celestial phenomena hadn’t been resolved. Letting him go outside would likely lead to trouble.

“I personally don’t recommend you going,” he interlocked his fingers and earnestly said, “especially considering the current unrest outside.”

Sheng Zhao: “…”

The TV had just finished broadcasting a drama, moving on to the upcoming midday news. The teaser had just earnestly reported, “The weekend is approaching, please keep an eye on your children when playing.” Following that, there was an urgent interruption featuring a collection of “missing persons” notices. After two consecutive reports, the expressions on Xing Yingzhuo and Sheng Zhao’s faces became extremely strange.

Sheng Zhao bit his lip and nearly exhausted all his patience – unfortunately, he couldn’t hold back.

He burst into laughter.

“Well, it’s okay, it’s a peaceful era, don’t worry,” he tried hard to suppress the corners of his lips but failed, appearing somewhat ridiculous.

Xing Yingzhuo: “…”

The awkwardness of asking for leave in front of the boss was considerably diffused by this incident. Sheng Zhao scratched his head, smiled apologetically, and added a few words, “Usually, we don’t have much contact, but since i’m their son, and in front of relatives and friends, it wouldn’t look good if I didn’t go.”

Xing Yingzhuo fell silent for two seconds, seemingly reluctantly accepting this explanation.

“Where are you going?” Xing Yingzhuo asked.

Sheng Zhao mentioned a place, a port city near the estuary, over a thousand kilometers from the commercial city, with a GDP higher by over two trillion compared to the commercial city.

“Hometown?” Xing Yingzhuo asked.

“Yeah…” Sheng Zhao said, “something like that.”

Xing Yingzhuo didn’t ask him why he didn’t stay in a more prosperous hometown, a foolish question. Instead, he lazily changed his posture and continued, “How many days?”

Sheng Zhao made a gesture of “2” with his hand and said, “Just taking two days off, the weekend. I’ll go on the first day and be back the second night.”

This time frame was barely within Xing Yingzhuo’s acceptable range. So, he gave a nonchalant “uh” as an agreement.

Sheng Zhao felt relieved, thanked him a couple of times, and walked towards the kitchen while pulling out his phone to search for recipe tutorials.

Although he had a not-so-good impression of Xing Yingzhuo when he spoke harshly, whenever Xing Yingzhuo spoke more amicably, Sheng Zhao’s fondness for him would mysteriously increase for some reason.

He thought the matter of taking leave was settled, but who would have thought that after about ten minutes, Xing Yingzhuo suddenly called him again.

“Sheng Zhao.”

Holding half a frog in his hand, Sheng Zhao peered out of the kitchen, looking puzzled at Xing Yingzhuo.

With a phone in his hand, Xing Yingzhuo casually slid it a couple of times and then turned to ask him, “Is there a redevelopment zone in Changning District in Shanghai?”

“Yeah.” Sheng Zhao was somewhat surprised by his knowledge of Shanghai. “They started construction there last year, but it’s not finished yet. It’s just a barren land… Why?”

“Don’t pass there,” Xing Yingzhuo said indifferently. “Take a detour.”

Sheng Zhao: “…”

What a mess. Sheng Zhao wondered if Xing Yingzhuo thought he was an underage person who could be abducted?

“What’s going on?” Sheng Zhao extended his neck in suspicion, glancing at the TV screen opposite Xing Yingzhuo. He casually asked, “Did you see news about a male college student being kidnapped and robbed on a construction site during late-night travel?”

“No,” Xing Yingzhuo replied.

The TV was broadcasting a righteous and uplifting segment about good deeds. Sheng Zhao didn’t pay much attention, assuming Xing Yingzhuo was just making another one of his eccentric comments. So, he withdrew his head, casually asking, “Then why bring this up?”

“If I tell you to take a detour, just do it,” Xing Yingzhuo said with a mysterious tone, reminiscent of a fortune-teller under a bridge: “Otherwise, be careful not to be eaten by monsters.”

Sheng Zhao’s hand slipped, and the slippery frog leg fell from his hand, spinning and disappearing into the drain.

It took him two seconds to choose between “Xing Yingzhuo took the wrong medicine” and “this is a dark joke.” He went with the latter, so he couldn’t help but smile awkwardly and join in the joke, “Boss, you’re not allowed to go insane with the founding of the country.”

“Maybe there’s someone evading taxes there,” Xing Yingzhuo said.

Sheng Zhao couldn’t figure out the logic of this random conversation. He prepared the cleaned frog meat, wiped his hands, opened the refrigerator to take out a potato, and asked absentmindedly, “What tax evasion?”

Talking about this topic seemed to have piqued Xing Yingzhuo’s interest. He slightly sat up, half-laying on the back of the sofa, and asked in a leisurely manner, “Guess why they’re not allowed to go insane after the founding of the country?”

“Because socialist construction is going well,” Sheng Zhao said, with a wooden face, taking a potato from the cabinet.

“Because if they go insane after the founding of the country, they have to pay taxes,” Xing Yingzhuo shook his head and said whimsically, “You see, monsters can cultivate into human forms after a thousand years, but when they reach a thousand years, they have to pay taxes for two hundred years. After paying, they regress back, so the monsters that can go insane after the founding of the country are those evading taxes.”

Sheng Zhao: “…”

Sheng Zhao stared in astonishment, thinking, “Does he have such a vivid imagination?”

“Boss,” Sheng Zhao sincerely remarked, “Your creativity is wasted not writing novels.”

“Who knows?” Xing Yingzhuo slid down the back of the sofa again, found a comfortable position, and casually said, “How can you be so sure it’s not true?”

“Then the tax is too much, even higher than personal income tax.” Sheng Zhao closed the cabinet door, actually pondered for a moment, “Moreover, your logic clearly has problems. After regression and another two hundred years, wouldn’t it be back to the starting point? Another two hundred years of taxes? An infinite loop system?”

“Who knows,” Xing Yingzhuo, seemingly hungry, picked up a boneless lamb chop from the coffee table and said indifferently, “It depends on the policy.”

“I get it.” Sheng Zhao, with an enlightened expression, said, “Boss, are you actually retired from the tax bureau?”

His playful intention was too obvious, and Xing Yingzhuo couldn’t help but curl his lips, appearing to be amused by him.

“Who says I’m not?” Xing Yingzhuo said meaningfully.

Sheng Zhao pushed all the messy ingredients into the pan, stir-fried them until about 80% cooked, then poured them out and switched to a smaller pan.

Clearly, Xing Yingzhuo’s kitchen didn’t have the tools for a “dry pot” dish, so Sheng Zhao had to make do. He replaced the alcohol stove with an induction cooker and moved both the pan and the cooker to the coffee table.

He pushed aside the scattered food bags on the coffee table, placed the induction cooker in the middle, and arranged them in a “stars surrounding the moon” posture.

Xing Yingzhuo automatically sat up and waited for the meal. Sheng Zhao didn’t want to wash more dishes, so he tore open a few plastic bags, folded them, and used them as makeshift plates.

After completing all this, he returned to the kitchen, washed two pairs of chopsticks, and handed one pair to Xing Yingzhuo.

“I’ll try to be quick and come back soon, not to cause any trouble.” Sheng Zhao pulled over a stool and sat opposite the coffee table, saying, “Boss, don’t scare me with ghost stories. I’m a materialist; ghost stories won’t work on me.”

Xing Yingzhuo made an unclear sound, and it wasn’t clear whether he was happy or not.

Sheng Zhao evaluated his expression, pushed the induction cooker in front of him, and Xing Yingzhuo graciously accepted this goodwill, picking up a piece of juicy frog meat from the pot.

Sheng Zhao sighed in relief without showing it too much.

During these days, he gradually figured out the boss’s temper—Xing Yingzhuo was unpredictable, moody, and his temper could change suddenly. He could talk to you nicely one second, and the next second, he might suddenly ignore you.

But in a sense, he was easy to please. He usually didn’t get genuinely angry, so either giving him a soft way out or ignoring him would work.

Avoiding Xing Yingzhuo’s “territory,” Sheng Zhao grabbed a piece of potato from the pot, glanced at Xing Yingzhuo in a flash, and thought inexplicably, “Actually, he’s quite cute.”