Chapter 99: Long Er

After Mrs. Qian hosted a proper wrap party for the crew, she let everyone go home. When Mo Fei returned, he found Lü Chunqiu gazing thoughtfully at an unfamiliar knife on the table.

“What’s wrong?” Mo Fei reached out and picked up the knife, examining it. “A fish-killing knife? Why did you buy this? Planning to open a sashimi restaurant?”

“That’s not important,” Lü Chunqiu shook her head. “This was delivered by one of your fans, asking for your autograph.”

Mo Fei was even more puzzled. “I have fans?”

He thought for a few seconds, then asked, “Did Miss Wen ask you to bring it?”

Lü Chunqiu looked at him in surprise. “How did you know? Did you see her?”

“No, but I did a little thinking.” Mo Fei sat opposite her. “Anyone who refers to themselves as my fan must know me and feel positively toward me. Considering your recent activities, you’ve spent most of the past couple of days tidying up rooms in the community.”

“There aren’t many friendly, easygoing people in the entire neighborhood. Grandma Zhang is too old to understand what my job means. Only Miss Wen is still young and knows I’m an actor and you’re my agent.”

Mo Fei spoke casually, “Just a bit of deduction, really.”

Lü Chunqiu was somewhat gratified. “Kid, you’re finally learning to use your brain.”

“That’s good. Now I can feel more at ease letting you go to the border of Yunnan and Myanmar.” She sighed. “Director Wang is really playing big this time.”

“A comeback project calls for genuine excitement,” Mo Fei thought such relentless pursuit of authenticity was no bad thing.

Young Qian had money, and scenes decked out in real luxury goods brought real opulence.

Director Wang wanted to film stories from the grey and black zones, and only by going there could he observe and experience them up close.

“When you go, remember to be careful. Don’t follow strangers, don’t eat anything unfamiliar,” Lü Chunqiu cautioned. “Stay close to the crew and always listen to Director Wang. Understand?”

Mo Fei touched his cheek, half-suspecting his face bore the words “idiot.”

“I’m talking to you,” Lü Chunqiu tapped the table. “Did you hear me?”

“Yes, yes, both ears loud and clear,” Mo Fei smiled. “Don’t worry, I know my limits.”

If anyone with no sense decided to mess with him, he’d break their limbs and cripple them without hesitation.

A concussion and brief amnesia would be the cherry on top.

Seeing Mo Fei’s calm demeanor, Lü Chunqiu felt somewhat reassured.

It seemed that since the kidnapping incident, the kid had grown up and matured a lot.

Truly good news.

“By the way, Miss Wen wants you to sign this knife so she can add it to her collection,” Lü Chunqiu pointed to the fish-killing knife in his hand.

Mo Fei nodded. “No problem.”

Director Wang had scheduled their departure for the following day.

During this day, Mo Fei planned to cook and invite Ji Xingyu to the community for a meal, to thank him for helping with the move.

Previously, he would never have dared such a bold invitation—his old cooking skills could have landed someone in the hospital.

But times had changed; now that he’d gained the [Meat Cuisine Mastery], it was worth trying his hand.

Mo Fei, wearing a mask, picked out meat at the market.

Anyone without life experience might not distinguish fresh meat from meat left a day, but now Mo Fei could easily tell.

Fresh meat had a glossy surface, even color; if the color darkened, it meant the meat had been sitting for a while.

Touching it, fresh meat felt slightly dry or moist, oily but not sticky. Sticky meant it wasn’t fresh.

Moreover, fresh meat quickly bounced back when pressed, full of elasticity. Poor elasticity also meant it wasn’t fresh.

With his keen eye for ingredients, Mo Fei swept through the market like a storm.

“How much for these ribs per pound? Fifty? That’s too much. How about forty-five?”

The meat stall was run by a husband and wife. The man shook his head. “Can’t do. At that price, I wouldn’t make a cent, I’d actually lose money.”

“Forty-eight—if you agree, I’ll take two pounds.”

The wife laughed aloud. “Two pounds? I thought you were buying twenty!”

Mo Fei laughed along. “I couldn’t eat twenty pounds if I tried.”

The husband stared at Mo Fei’s face for a moment, then asked, “Are you that guy who went viral recently, the one who was spotted all over the world?”

“So you’ve seen me too?” Mo Fei grinned. “Fate, eh? Maybe a little discount?”

“Nope,” both owners replied in unison.

The husband waved his hand. “Business and friendship, two separate things. Even if you were Chen Long, the price stays the same.”

“My meat is the freshest, freshly slaughtered.”

That was true—no need for Mo Fei to check; the cut surfaces on the stall were still twitching.

As Mo Fei considered buying more, a man in black appeared beside him.

His features were upright, with a deep crease between his brows, suggesting a stern and proper man.

The man took out his phone and paid directly. “Three pounds of ribs.”

“Right away.” Hearing the payment notification, the owner swiftly chopped off three pounds of ribs, bagged them, and handed them over.

The man took the red plastic bag and passed it straight to Mo Fei.

Mo Fei pointed uncertainly at himself. “For me?”

“Yes.” The man nodded. “I’m Long Er. Director Wang arranged for me to depart with you tomorrow to the Yunnan-Myanmar border.”

Mo Fei took the bag and sized Long Er up.

He was neatly dressed, hair and beard well-groomed—a man who took care of himself. Of course, it could also be an attempt to avoid leaving any memorable features.

His stance leaned slightly forward, knuckles thick with calluses, ears close to his head in a dumpling shape, a sign of physical prowess.

His face was impassive, his gaze cold, marked only by professional seriousness.

This guy was very professional.

On their way back to the community, Mo Fei asked Long Er, “How did you find me? Did Director Wang give you my address?”

“No.” Long Er’s voice was steady as he explained, “Finding someone in a city isn’t as hard as you think. I’ve been following you since you left home.”

Mo Fei stopped in his tracks, eyeing Long Er as if he were a rare specimen. “You were following me that whole time?”

He hadn’t noticed at all.

Long Er nodded. “Mr. Mo, your vigilance is the highest I’ve seen, aside from mercenaries and soldiers.”

He spoke with earnestness, and Mo Fei couldn’t tell if it was genuine praise or subtle sarcasm.

“If I never noticed you, how can you say I’m vigilant?” Mo Fei shook his head and resumed walking.

“I’m a professional.” Long Er always kept half a step behind Mo Fei, his footsteps nearly silent. “With ordinary people, I could walk right beside them and they’d never notice.”

“But with you, though I haven’t tried, my instincts tell me it’s best not to get too close.”