Chapter Five: Homecoming

The days of lying in a hospital bed, idly waiting for something to happen, were finally coming to an end for Cheng Xiaoyu.

Truth be told, Cheng Xiaoyu hadn't felt bored during all this time. There was plenty to do online every day—listening to the popular music of this era, watching its films—everything filled him with a sense of novelty and wonder.

Director Li came early in the morning to announce the good news that he could be discharged. Seeing the sincere smile on Director Li's face, Cheng Xiaoyu couldn't help but wonder if the man was simply relieved to be rid of a hot potato.

Even the young nurse, Hu Lili, administered the last injection today with unusual efficiency. Cheng Xiaoyu had resolved never to return to this ward under her care again; counting the number of injections and needle marks on both wrists, one could easily calculate the extent of his psychological trauma. So, somewhat uncharacteristically, he lightened up and joked with the usually aloof nurse, "Looks like you’re in a good mood today, Nurse Hu. Didn’t use me for practice this time!"

A faint blush crept onto Hu Lili’s face as she changed the subject. "Miss Xia from downstairs has been awake for a few days now. She has a fractured left leg, broken ribs, multiple soft tissue contusions, and a mild concussion, but nothing too serious. She can eat now." Then, with particular emphasis on Xia Yancheng’s injuries, she added, "Aren’t you planning to go see her?"

Cheng Xiaoyu felt a bit awkward. "I think I’ll pass. No need to go looking for trouble. I’d rather not end up back here before I even leave. If I stay any longer, I might not make it out alive."

Hu Lili, ever straightforward, asked, "Why wouldn’t you make it out?"

Cheng Xiaoyu laughed. "With your injection skills? Not many people could take it. Lucky for me I’m strong—anyone else would have been tormented into jumping out the window by now."

Hu Lili looked flustered, realizing that her poor attitude hadn’t gone unnoticed. She was at a loss for words, worried he might report her heavy-handedness to Director Li. Her expression turned uneasy.

Cheng Xiaoyu saw her discomfort and smiled reassuringly. "Don’t worry, I won’t tell Director Li. But I do need a favor."

Hu Lili quickly replied, "As long as it’s not too much, I’ll do it." She couldn’t afford to lose this job; the pay in the special care ward was much higher than in the regular wards. Besides, it wasn’t just a matter of changing positions—she might lose her job entirely. This was, after all, the best hospital in Shanghai. She grew increasingly anxious, fearful he’d make an unreasonable request—she’d heard from her colleagues about unsavory incidents in the special care ward before.

Unaware of her worries, Cheng Xiaoyu turned to gaze out the window. "Lend me some money so I can buy flowers. I’d like you to deliver them to Miss Xia downstairs for me." In the end, he still felt a bit guilty and wanted to offer something by way of apology, even though his father had already paid an astronomical sum in compensation to the victim.

Hu Lili let out a long breath of relief, thinking that this chubby guy wasn’t such a bad person after all.

Seeing that she hadn’t answered, Cheng Xiaoyu added with a smile, "Don’t worry, my aunt will be by soon and I’ll pay you back."

Hu Lili waved her hand. "That’s not the issue. Wait here, I’ll get the money from my bag." With that, she bustled off to the nurses’ station.

With a borrowed thousand yuan in hand, Cheng Xiaoyu left the hospital. There was a florist just across the street. The girl at the shop, upon learning the flowers were for a patient, suggested several arrangements. Cheng Xiaoyu chose the most expensive: six pink lilies, eleven pink roses, pink and purple carnations around the edges, with yellow yarrow and Brazilian leaves interspersed.

After the bouquet was wrapped, he was invited to select a card. After some deliberation, he picked one featuring a little girl standing under an eave adorned with wind chimes, gazing into a deep blue starry sky. He paused, then mischievously wrote on the back: "If you are well, it will be a sunny day." His beautiful, elegant penmanship danced across the card.

The shop girl didn’t spare another glance for the chubby young man, took the money, and went about her business. Cheng Xiaoyu, clutching the bouquet, made his way back to the hospital, returned to the special care ward, and rang for Hu Lili. Solemnly, he handed her the flowers. "Please deliver these after I’ve left, and don’t say who they’re from. I’m counting on you."

At that moment, Hu Lili felt genuine sympathy for him. In more than ten days, aside from a stepmother who visited frequently, no one else had come. In contrast, Xia Yancheng had relatives and classmates visiting every day—sometimes visitors had to queue. This chubby fellow seemed pitifully alone. Taking the flowers, Hu Lili, for once dropping her cold tone, said softly, "Rest assured, I’ll pass on your apology." Then she turned and left.

Cheng Xiaoyu called Aunt Zhou, who was already driving over to pick him up. As for Su Changhe, apart from visiting on his first day awake, he hadn’t come at all since then. That suited Cheng Xiaoyu just fine. There wasn’t much to pack—a cell phone, two small speakers, and a laptop. He’d worn a hospital gown all this time and only changed into the sportswear Aunt Zhou brought him today.

Gazing at his reflection, Cheng Xiaoyu winced. In truth, his features were quite fine—good genes, after all—but at nearly two hundred pounds, with acne and a pair of retro round glasses, he looked every bit the awkward, bumbling fat boy. His hairstyle was hopelessly outdated—a blunt pageboy cut. He’d tried switching to a side part, but in the mirror he looked like a cute version of Little Kim the Third. For someone who, in his previous life, cared so much about appearance, this was intolerable. But now, he was ready to let it go. He was already the "foolish heir" of a wealthy family; there was no need to fuss over his looks. He’d worry about all that after losing some weight.

He slipped his phone into his pocket, picked up his travel bag with the laptop, and followed Aunt Zhou out of the hospital. Director Li had already handled the discharge papers and escorted them to the underground parking lot. Aunt Zhou exchanged a few pleasantries with Director Li, and Cheng Xiaoyu bade him farewell, asked Aunt Zhou to give a thousand yuan to Director Li for the young nurse, and climbed into her new car. The Ferrari 430 was still in the shop, so Aunt Zhou had picked up a white Maserati convertible. "Just making do for now," she said. Unlike most women, Aunt Zhou drove more aggressively than many men—accelerator and brake in quick succession—prompting Cheng Xiaoyu to hurriedly fasten his seatbelt.

Aunt Zhou eyed the nervous chubby boy with contempt. "I thought you and I would have something in common, but you’re just big, not brave."

Cheng Xiaoyu swallowed, watching as the Maserati slipped past a minivan in the fast lane. "Aunt Zhou, I’m only nervous in someone else’s car. If I were driving, I wouldn’t be scared. I just don’t have confidence when I’m not in control!"

"You’re blatantly questioning my driving skills!" She floored the accelerator again.

What should have been a fifty-minute drive, they completed in thirty. Cheng Xiaoyu’s home in this life was a villa in Shanghai’s top-tier Moon Lake Manor, where any sizable house easily cost over a hundred million yuan—and that’s if you could even buy one, as there were far more wealthy people in this world than in his previous one.

Aunt Zhou parked in the garage. Butler Qiao Sansi was already waiting at the door. His real name was Joey Williams, but everyone called him Qiao San. A proper Englishman, he’d graduated from Holland’s International Butler School and had worked for the Su family in China for nearly twenty years. He spoke fluent Beijing and Shanghai dialects. Impeccably dressed in a tailcoat with a white shirt and black bow tie, his golden hair was slicked back with an indeterminate amount of pomade. His left hand rested atop his right at his waist, standing with perfect poise—neither arrogant nor servile. Behind him stood four Filipina maids in black uniforms and white aprons; one was older, the other three were younger but none particularly pretty.

Seeing Cheng Xiaoyu emerge with his travel bag, Qiao San immediately greeted Aunt Zhou with a slight bow. "Madam, thank you for your hard work." Aunt Zhou nodded, handed him the car keys, and went inside. Qiao San pocketed the keys, took Cheng Xiaoyu’s bag, and smiled warmly. "Congratulations on your recovery, young master. The kitchen has prepared many of your favorite dishes. The master specially arranged for a piece of ‘bamboo-grade’ Kobe beef. Since Aunt Wang isn’t skilled with Western cuisine, I invited the French head chef from the Kempinski to cook for you. You’ll soon get to taste the work of a Michelin three-star chef."

Cheng Xiaoyu was speechless. In his half year in China, he’d mostly stayed at school, not because he couldn’t live at home, but because he didn’t want to. Thus, he’d never truly experienced the extravagance of this household.

Kobe beef was a national treasure in his previous world’s Japan. Having visited Japan, he knew more than most that Kobe beef was not exported. Any restaurant claiming to serve it was lying; it was certainly fake.

Kobe beef isn’t simply beef from Kobe—it’s a brand, owned by the Kobe Beef Marketing & Distribution Promotion Association. Several criteria must be met: it must be the offspring of continuous breeding of the Tajima strain of black Japanese cattle from Hyogo Prefecture; the animal must be a virgin female or a castrated male, raised and slaughtered in designated regions of Hyogo. Only meat graded A4 or A5 can bear the Kobe beef label. Each year, about 5,500 Tajima cattle are raised in Hyogo, but only 3,000 meet the standard for Kobe beef; those graded A1–A3 are labeled as Tajima beef.

Due to its scarcity, even in Japan few restaurants serve genuine Kobe beef. Many high-end places use other breeds of black Japanese cattle such as Sanuki, Matsusaka, or Sendai beef, which are nearly as good in quality—most people couldn’t tell the difference.

Japanese beef is rated A1–A5, with an additional BMS (Beef Marbling Standard) score; A5 is further divided from BMS 8 to BMS 12, the higher the number, the better. Visually, the more evenly marbled the beef, the better; the leaner the meat, the redder the color, and the whiter the fat, the higher the quality. Kobe beef can only be acquired at auctions in four locations in Japan. A prize-winning Kobe cow once fetched 7.22 million yen, about half a million yuan.

The best cuts are from the forechest and back, graded as Plum, Bamboo, Pine, and Wisteria. Price, of course, is no concern for the wealthy—the real issue is the beef’s rarity.

And so, the saga of Cheng Xiaoyu continued, as he stepped into a world of unimaginable luxury.