Chapter Five: Secrets Can't Be Kept in a Small Town

Suddenly, a crowd of people poured in—about a dozen in all: two children around ten years old, an elderly man and woman, Britt and his wife Elizabeth, and a middle-aged couple with their two children, both in their twenties, a young man and a young woman who seemed quite presentable. They were all pure-blooded white folks. Qiu Fengyu found it hard to tell who was who, but Britt had introduced a few names, and he managed to remember Britt’s wife, Elizabeth, and their two children—the older girl was Nicole, and the younger boy was Danny. Nicole was quieter, while Danny was more energetic; as soon as they entered, feeling at home, he cheered and dashed up to the attic, which was where Qiu Fengyu slept.

"Stop right there, Danny! Don’t touch anything of Mr. Qiu’s," Britt quickly stopped his mischievous son.

Danny came back down the stairs sulking and grumbled to Elizabeth, "Isn’t this our own place?"

"Yes, but for now, it’s Mr. Qiu’s," Elizabeth replied patiently to the little rascal.

Britt sat at the table chatting with the two elders and the middle-aged couple, still boasting about Qiu Fengyu’s cooking skills. But they hadn’t come empty-handed: the elders brought a cake, the middle-aged couple brought pizza, and Britt himself had a small basket of cookies.

The two young adults hovered nearby, watching Qiu Fengyu pull noodles, marveling at the skill of turning flour into delicate strands. The girl chattered non-stop, while the young man snapped photos, uploading them to his Facebook in real time.

"Are you a chef? You look more like a magician—how do you get them so thin? My God," the girl praised Qiu Fengyu enthusiastically. "Can I learn? Will you teach me?"

Qiu Fengyu turned to look at her. She wore a white cropped, tight-fitting T-shirt and jeans, an eye-catching sight—mainly because her figure was quite generous.

"This is so cool! I’m going to record a video and upload it to my Facebook—it’ll be epic!" the young man declared, taking his success with the photos as encouragement to take it further.

Qiu Fengyu ignored their curiosity. The young man seemed a bit younger than the woman, but it made little difference to him; he didn’t expect to be around them for long anyway.

Piping hot ramen was soon set on the table, two bowls at a time, with only ten-minute intervals. In less than an hour, all ten guests were served. Qiu Fengyu sat nearby, dragging a chair over and lighting a cigarette.

After they finished, the two children licked the oil from their lips, gazing hopefully at Qiu Fengyu. The others joined them, their eyes practically glowing green—it was clear that one bowl of noodles was not enough to satisfy them.

"I told you so!" Britt broke the strange silence and suddenly burst out laughing. "I knew you'd all be amazed. One bowl of these noodles and you’ll forget the best thing you ever tasted—these are all you’ll remember."

The middle-aged man nodded in agreement, "Honestly, I could eat another bowl… Not because I’m hungry, but because it’s just too delicious."

"We’ll come visit you again tomorrow, Mr. Qiu!" the old man said mischievously, evidently hoping to repeat the experience.

"Why don’t you open a ramen shop here?" the young man was the quickest to react, already scheming to secure more of these noodles. "I promise you’d have great business. I could bring all my friends—they’d love it. Look, my Facebook is blowing up with praise for you—check out this video…" he said, trying to show Qiu Fengyu his phone.

The young woman looked at Qiu Fengyu with the same eager anticipation.

"I’ll go wash the dishes," Qiu Fengyu gathered up the ten bowls—he’d bought these from the Chinese supermarket in Paso City after Britt had mentioned the visit yesterday, so he’d bought twenty-one large bowls just in case.

The amount in each bowl was definitely sufficient, but it was obvious that the hunger in their eyes remained. Qiu Fengyu paid them no mind, took the bowls straight to the kitchen, and started washing up.

"This idea is worth considering—if you open a ramen shop, business would be booming," Britt followed him, feeling they were on good terms, and tried to persuade him.

"I’m only staying here for a month," Qiu Fengyu replied without looking up as he washed the dishes.

"Uh—" Britt was momentarily stunned, realizing at last that Qiu Fengyu was just passing through. But, unwilling to give up, he pressed on, "Where are you headed?"

"I don’t know. Wherever I go, I’ll figure it out. I’m on my own—it’s easy to arrange."

"Oh, a drifter," Britt’s eyes brightened, and he eagerly suggested, "Why not settle here for good? You can stay as long as you want—rent-free. And you could open your shop here."

"Live here for free?" Qiu Fengyu looked up at Britt. "No rent?"

"No rent!" Britt confirmed with a nod. He wasn’t planning to use the place anyway, it wasn’t a great location, and after all, Qiu Fengyu had saved his life—considering everything, giving it to him was hardly an extravagant gift. "Think about it?"

"I’ll consider it," Qiu Fengyu nodded.

Britt chuckled, turned, and announced the news to the others, whose faces instantly lit up with delight—who could refuse good food? Especially food like this, beyond anything the Chinese restaurants in Paso City could offer.

Their objective achieved, and realizing Qiu Fengyu wasn’t going to make another round of ramen, the group dispersed. After they left, Qiu Fengyu sampled their cake, cookies, and pizza, shaking his head before dumping it all in the trash—Americans really had low standards for food.

Qiu Fengyu’s reputation seemed to spread in a matter of days, at least among the self-important youths of the town. After all, David Birkin getting his nose broken by one punch from Qiu Fengyu was a big deal among them, and David was ridiculed for days by his friends.

As for opening a ramen shop, Qiu Fengyu gave it no thought. The next day, when that group brought even more people over, Qiu Fengyu had long since disappeared. Disappointed, they left, but word of his noodles continued to spread.

Neither kind of reputation mattered much to Qiu Fengyu; he planned to leave soon, so he didn’t care what people said about him. He still wandered the streets and frequented the bars as usual.

"This is your drink—you’re keeping it here," the bartender, Hill, poured him a glass as soon as he sat down, winking. "Want me to set you up with a girl?"

"Are you a pimp?" Qiu Fengyu shot him a look, downed his drink in one gulp, and motioned for a refill.

"You know, there’s not much to do around here at night. It’s a small town—if you don’t find your own fun, you’ll go stale," Hill tempted him as he poured another.

"I’m only here for a month."

"A month is plenty of time to let yourself sprout!" Hill chuckled. "Just take a look. If you’re not interested, that’s fine." With that, he whistled toward a corner of the bar and beckoned. A young woman stood up from a table there. In the dim light, she wasn’t bad looking.

She wore a miniskirt barely covering her backside, her face caked with smoky makeup, which made Qiu Fengyu frown. Her flippant manner was a bit off-putting—even Hill frowned, "You should go wash your face and get rid of all that gunk."

"Hey, I know you!" the girl said to Qiu Fengyu, plopping herself onto the chair beside him and resting an elbow on his shoulder, blowing a smoke ring in his face. She still had a cigarette in hand.

"You know me?" Qiu Fengyu looked her over.

"Of course! You smashed Birkin’s face in—everyone’s heard about it," she grinned. "That’s the best news I’ve had all week. That bastard never pays for my time, but… tonight you get me for free. I like you—you avenged me."

Qiu Fengyu signaled to Hill, "Pour the lady a drink—on me." He downed his glass, then turned to leave.

"Hey, stranger, I don’t mind if you have special tastes," the girl called after him, but Qiu Fengyu had already vanished.

"That man is cool!" she turned to Hill at the bar.

"Too bad he’s not interested in you," Hill sneered, disappointed by the lack of commission. "But after closing tonight, I’m free—maybe we could…"

Before he could finish, the girl hopped off her chair, flipped him off, and walked out with a huff.

Nothing stayed hidden long in a small town. Early next morning, just past eight, Qiu Fengyu was still in bed—last night’s encounter with that girl had left him hot under the collar, and after taking care of himself at home, he’d finally fallen asleep, not planning to get up so soon.

"Speak up, or I’m hanging up!" he said, ending the call.

But whoever it was had patience, and called again. Qiu Fengyu, still lying face-down in bed, lazily answered, "Still nothing? Hanging up!" and cut the line once more.

The phone rang a third time. He picked up, and this time, a voice spoke first: "It’s me, Corvin. Open up, I need to talk to you. It’s almost nine."

Opening the door, Qiu Fengyu, still in pajamas, found Corvin—the shapely female officer—in uniform at his doorstep. "I didn’t do anything last night," he said lazily.

"I never said you did," Corvin replied, peering inside.

"There’s no one else here, just me. I didn’t bring that girl home last night—believe me, your figure is much better than hers," Qiu Fengyu joked, eyeing Corvin up and down.

Corvin snorted, a hint of pride on her face, and cleared her throat, "Are you planning to open a restaurant? If so, I can help you with the procedures."

Nothing stayed secret in this town. Qiu Fengyu was about to reply when he saw Corvin suddenly dash off, yelling at a nervous young man in his twenties, "Hey, Baker! Get your filthy paws over here and scrape that gum off the wall—unless you want me to shove it back in your mouth!"

Qiu Fengyu stared in astonishment. This policewoman was certainly something else.