Run!

Jiang Hao had the waiter invite over the chef responsible for this table's dishes. To his surprise, she was a female chef in her twenties, and rather pretty.

"Welcome. Are you satisfied with today's meal? If you have any requests or suggestions, please feel free to mention them. We'll improve next time," the head chef said politely.

Since she was asking so sincerely, Jiang Hao naturally did not hold back.

"The Provencal Fish Soup had too much butter."

"The Pan-Seared Foie Gras was overcooked."

"The Veal in White Sauce had too strong a cheese flavor. It overwhelmed the flavor of the main ingredient."

"The apples in the Apple Black Pudding weren't handled well. They were all cooked to mush."

"And the sauce for that Grilled Fish—you made it yourself, right? To be honest, it didn't taste very good. The traditional sauce would have been better."

""

The female chef was dumbfounded. Most diners would say things like the food was delicious, wonderful, or very tasty. She had never expected this guest to point out so many flaws.

This guest clearly knew his stuff. Every criticism hit the mark, and his assessment was so precise that she began to wonder whether she really was that bad.

She had studied cooking for seven or eight years, yet she was still such a failure. She pressed her lips together, and her eyes actually reddened.

Jiang Hao froze.

What was going on? Had he made her cry?

The female chef bowed to them. "I'm very sorry. Today is my first day as head chef, and you are the first table I've served a full-course meal to. I'm very sorry I failed to satisfy you."

So that was it. She was a rookie.

"All right, to be honest, these dishes were still very good. I was just being overly picky."

Jiang Hao hurriedly praised her, afraid that she would burst into tears on the spot.

When the production crew left, the female chef even walked them to the door, apologizing for failing to give them a perfect dining experience.

By the time the post-production work was done and Jiang Hao left the TV station, it was already past nine at night. Xiaoqiu drove out, saw him standing by the roadside, pulled over, rolled down the window, and said, "I'll give you a ride."

"No need. We're not going the same way. Sorry for the trouble," Jiang Hao said politely.

"Hmph!" Zhen Xiaoqiu snorted angrily, rolled up the window, and sped away.

Jiang Hao shook his head.

He hailed a taxi and soon arrived below his rented apartment building. After paying the fare, he headed into the residential complex. Suddenly, three men got out of a van ahead of him. They seemed to be carrying weapons, and under the streetlights, cold flashes of steel glinted briefly.

Jiang Hao's heart tightened as a bad feeling rose within him. He felt that these people were coming for him. He had offended quite a few people lately, especially Fatty Wu, whom he had thoroughly provoked.

Jiang Hao turned around and started walking back.

"Chop him!"

A shout erupted behind him. The three men, each carrying a machete, charged at Jiang Hao menacingly.

Fuck!

Jiang Hao jumped in fright. His first reaction was to run.

What, you thought that because he had practiced boxing, he should go up and fight them? Heh, that would be asking for death.

His boxing coach had once said that two fists could not beat four hands. If an opponent pulled out a weapon, never confront them head-on. Especially when facing multiple people—if you rushed in just because you knew a few moves, the only outcome would be getting hacked to death.

The ancestors had taught this long ago: of the Thirty-Six Stratagems, running away was best.

Jiang Hao sprinted with all his might, while the three men chased after him desperately with machetes in hand.

"Stop, you bastard! I'm going to chop you to death today!"

"You still dare run? Once we catch you, we'll chop off both your legs!"

Stop? Only an idiot would stop.

The more they shouted, the faster Jiang Hao ran.

His usual long-distance running practice now showed its value. The distance between Jiang Hao and the three thugs grew wider and wider. A street lay ahead with few streetlights, and Jiang Hao immediately turned into it and kept running.

"Pant, pant, pant!"

The three thugs chased him for several hundred more meters. Seeing Jiang Hao disappear into the darkness, they could only stop, standing there with their machetes while gasping for breath.

"That damn bastard, who knew he could run so fast? Isn't he a chef? Did he used to train for marathons or something?"

"What do we do now, Boss?" one of the lackeys asked.

"Go back to his rental and keep watch. I don't believe he won't come back. Boss Wu said he wants both his legs. He'll be crawling from now on. If we don't chop him up, how are we supposed to get paid?"

The boss spat on the ground, then cursed as he led his lackeys back to continue waiting in ambush.

Go back? Jiang Hao was not that stupid.

Now that he knew someone wanted to chop him up and knew where he lived, there was no way he could return.

After running another street over, he finally spotted a taxi. Jiang Hao flagged it down and hurried inside, sitting there and gasping for breath.

"Where to?" the taxi driver asked.

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

He arrived soon after. After paying and getting out, Jiang Hao looked at the familiar place and familiar entrance, then rang the doorbell.

"Ding-dong!"

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

"Xiaoqiu." Jiang Hao flashed all eight of his teeth.

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

"Hehe, I have some work matters to discuss with you," Jiang Hao said.

"Work matters? We can talk about them tomorrow at the TV station." Xiaoqiu was about to close the door when Jiang Hao braced the inner door with one hand. "Ideas—good ideas. They'll really help the show."

Xiaoqiu said coldly, "Then talk about them tomorrow at the TV station."

With that, she slammed the door shut.

Jiang Hao kept knocking. "Xiaoqiu, open the door. I really need to talk to you about something. It's important."

"Xiaoqiu, don't just ignore me."

As Jiang Hao knocked, the door of the neighboring apartment clicked open. A man in a tank top appeared and chuckled at Jiang Hao. "What, had a fight?"

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

"Hehe, women need to be coaxed. If she won't open the door, just beg her a little more," the man said, waggling his eyebrows.

Then a woman's roar came from inside. "You've got so much to say—why don't I ever see you making me happy? Get back in here!"

The man gave an awkward smile and closed the door behind him.

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

He knocked again and said helplessly, "Xiaoqiu, someone was chasing me with a machete just now. I nearly got killed. If you really won't open the door, then I'll leave."

Click. The door opened, revealing Xiaoqiu's slightly nervous face. "Someone was chasing you with a machete? Are you hurt?"

As she spoke, she opened the security gate as well and let Jiang Hao inside.

Zhen Xiaoqiu circled him once, found that Jiang Hao was completely unharmed, and asked, "You lied to get me to open the door."

"No, really. Someone really was trying to chop me up. I'm guessing those people are still waiting downstairs near my rented apartment. I had to run three streets before I shook them off," Jiang Hao said.

Street thugs were still very rampant these days. Ninety-seven was almost here; after that, scenes of people being chased down and hacked in the streets would become much rarer.