Run

# Chapter 44: Run

Jiang Hao asked the waiter to bring the head chef for this table of dishes. To his surprise, it was a female chef in her twenties, and she was quite good-looking.

"Welcome to dine with us. Are you satisfied with today's dishes? If you have any requests or suggestions, please feel free to speak up, and we'll improve next time," the female chef said politely.

Since she was asking for advice with such sincerity, Jiang Hao naturally wouldn't hold back.

"Provencal Fish Soup—too much butter."

"Pan-Seared Foie Gras—the heat wasn't controlled well."

"Veal in White Sauce—the cheese flavor is too strong; it overpowered the main ingredient."

"Apple Black Pudding—the apples weren't handled properly; they're completely overcooked."

"And that sauce on the Grilled Fish—you made it yourself, right? Honestly, it's not good. Even a traditional sauce would taste better."

"..."

The female chef was stunned. Most diners would say things like "delicious," "excellent," or "tastes great." She never expected this guest to point out so many flaws.

This guest clearly knew his stuff. He hit every point precisely, his critiques so on-target that she began to doubt whether she was truly any good at all.

Thinking about how she'd studied culinary arts for seven or eight years and still ended up this unsuccessful, she bit her lip, and her eyes actually reddened.

Jiang Hao froze.

What was this? He made her cry?

The female chef bowed to them both. "I'm so sorry. Today was my first day as head chef, and you were my first full-table guests. I deeply apologize for not meeting your satisfaction."

So that was it. A rookie.

"Alright, to be honest, these dishes were still very well made. I was being overly critical."

Jiang Hao quickly added a compliment, afraid the female chef might burst into tears on the spot.

And so, when the production team left, the female chef even saw them to the door, apologizing again for not giving the guests a perfect dining experience.

After finishing the post-production for the show, Jiang Hao walked out of the TV Station at past nine in the evening. Xiaoqiu drove out, saw Jiang Hao standing by the roadside, stopped the car, and rolled down the window. "I'll give you a ride."

"No need. We're going different directions. Too much trouble," Jiang Hao said politely.

"Hmph~" Zhen Xiaoqiu let out an angry snort, rolled up the window, stepped on the gas, and sped off.

Jiang Hao shook his head.

He hailed a taxi and soon arrived at the apartment building he was renting. After paying the fare, he walked into the residential complex. Suddenly, three men jumped out of a van parked ahead, each carrying something in their hands. Under the streetlight, a flash of cold steel glinted.

Jiang Hao's heart tightened. A bad feeling crept over him. He was certain these men were coming for him. He'd offended plenty of people lately, especially Fatty Wu—and he'd offended him to the bone.

Jiang Hao turned and walked back the way he came.

"Chop him!"

A roar erupted behind him. The three men, each wielding a cleaver, charged at Jiang Hao with murderous intent.

Holy crap!

Jiang Hao was startled. His first instinct was to turn and run.

What, you think because he'd practiced boxing, he should go fight them? Hah, that would be suicide.

His coach once told him: two fists can't beat four hands. If an opponent pulls out a weapon, never go head-to-head. Especially against multiple people. If you charge in thinking your skills will save you, you'll just end up chopped to death.

The ancestors had long taught the solution to this situation: of the Thirty-Six Stratagems, running is the best.

Jiang Hao sprinted for all he was worth, putting every ounce of strength into his legs. Behind him, the three men chased with their cleavers, running for their lives.

"Stop right there, you bastard! I'm gonna chop you to death today!"

"Keep running and we'll catch you and cut off both your legs!"

Stop? Only an idiot would stop.

The more they yelled, the faster Jiang Hao ran.

The advantage of his daily long-distance training showed. The gap between Jiang Hao and the three thugs grew wider and wider. Up ahead was a street with sparse streetlights. Jiang Hao immediately ducked into it and kept sprinting.

"Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh~"

The three thugs chased for another few hundred meters. When they saw Jiang Hao vanish into the darkness, they could only stop, standing there with their cleavers, panting heavily.

"That deadbeat—who knew he could run so fast? Isn't he a chef? Did he used to train for marathons?"

"What do we do now, boss?" one lackey asked.

"Go back to his rental and keep staking him out. No way he won't come back. Boss Wu wants his legs—wants him crawling from now on. If we don't chop him, how do we get paid?"

The boss spat on the ground, cursed, and led his lackeys back to continue the stakeout.

Go back? Jiang Hao wasn't that stupid.

Since he knew someone wanted to chop him and they knew where he lived, there was no way he was going back.

He ran another block until he finally spotted a taxi. Jiang Hao hailed it and jumped in, sitting in the back seat, gasping for breath.

"Where to?" the taxi driver asked.

Jiang Hao thought for a moment. "Nanyun Road Fuya Garden Community."

They arrived quickly. He paid and got out, taking in the familiar place, the familiar gate. Jiang Hao pressed the doorbell.

Ding-dong!

"Who is it?" a girl's voice came from inside. The door opened, and through the security gate, Jiang Hao once again saw that familiar, delicate young woman.

"Xiaoqiu." Jiang Hao flashed a grin, all eight teeth showing.

Zhen Xiaoqiu saw it was Jiang Hao, and her face darkened. "What are you here for again? Didn't you go back to your own place?"

"Heh, I have some work stuff to talk to you about," Jiang Hao said.

"Work stuff—we can talk about it tomorrow at the TV Station." Xiaoqiu started to close the door, but Jiang Hao pushed against the inner door. "An idea, a good idea. It'd really help the show."

Xiaoqiu said coldly, "Then say it tomorrow at the TV Station."

With that, she slammed the door shut.

Jiang Hao kept knocking. "Xiaoqiu, open up. I really need to talk to you. It's important."

"Xiaoqiu, don't just ignore me."

As Jiang Hao was knocking, the door of the neighboring apartment clicked open, revealing a man in a tank top. The man grinned at Jiang Hao. "What's this, a lovers' quarrel?"

Jiang Hao pointed at the door, then at himself, and finally could only nod helplessly.

"Heh, women need coaxing. If she won't open the door, just beg a little more." The man winked.

Just then, a woman's shout came from inside his place. "You talk so much crap, why don't I ever see you coaxing me happy? Get back in here."

The man gave an awkward smile and slipped back inside, closing the door.

Jiang Hao rolled his eyes. What kind of mess was this?

He knocked again, and said helplessly, "Xiaoqiu, I just got chased by guys with knives. I almost died. If you really won't open the door, then I'm leaving."

Click. The door opened, revealing Xiaoqiu's slightly worried face. "You got chased by people with knives? Are you hurt?"

She opened the security gate and let Jiang Hao in.

Zhen Xiaoqiu looked him over, found him completely unharmed, and asked, "You tricked me into opening the door."

"No, really. I did get chased by guys with knives. They're probably still staking out my rental place downstairs. I ran three blocks to shake them off," Jiang Hao said.

The thugs were still pretty brazen back then. It was almost '97—after that, scenes of street chases with knives would be hard to come by.