Marrying the Male Lead’s Disabled Uncle – Chapter 04

Chapter 4 Other famous chefs can do it, but you can’t? 

Yan Han’s gaze lingered on the red claw marks on Pei Lang’s wrist. He knew he had used considerable force at the time, but he hadn’t intended to leave such a visible mark. Yet, Pei Lang acted as if nothing had happened, even smiling at him. A tantalizing aroma drifted through the air, and Yan Han instinctively maneuvered his wheelchair forward.

The household cook was a five-star chef, and Yan Han had never eaten such simple home-cooked dishes before. However, the scent was undeniably appetizing. Since he had attended an event earlier in the day, he had instructed the cook not to prepare anything. He disliked having too many people in the house, so the servants had either been dismissed for the day or sent to the dormitory. That was why Pei Lang had found the villa empty when he came downstairs.

“What is this?” Yan Han asked coolly, his expression unreadable as he stared at the plate of scrambled eggs.

The tiny chibi figure on his shoulder tilted its head curiously, a large “?” popping up above it.

“Uh…”

Pei Lang hesitated before flashing a sly smile. “I learned this dish from a renowned chef I once visited. It’s called Summer Sunset. Want to try it?”

He was absolutely messing with Yan Han, taking advantage of his lack of familiarity with common home-cooked dishes. The dish was nothing more than simple scrambled eggs with tomatoes, but the vibrant yellow and red hues, garnished with finely chopped green onions, did resemble the warm glow of a summer sunset. The elegant plateware made it look even more high-end—like something straight out of a fine dining restaurant.

Yan Han had initially been curious, but the moment Pei Lang handed him the chopsticks, he hesitated. The chibi villain on his shoulder immediately retreated in alarm, shrinking back into a conjured corner with an expression of pure wariness.

Pei Lang: …Are you seriously afraid it’s poisoned?

Given Pei Lang’s past, it wasn’t an unreasonable suspicion. He had once tried to drug Yan Xiuyuan, after all, and everyone knew about that incident.

But really? The level of paranoia was excessive.

Brother, you’re in your thirties—act a little more mature. This is your own house.

“If you don’t want it, fine. More for me.” Pei Lang, who was starving, retracted his offer without hesitation and sat down to eat.

Yan Han, left sitting there, finally reached for the chopsticks and took a bite.

The taste wasn’t anything extraordinary, but it was unexpectedly to his liking. Still, unwilling to show any sign of approval, he maintained his usual cold demeanor, pretending to analyze the dish as he muttered an indifferent, “It’s average.”

Pei Lang discreetly glanced at the little chibi figure, only to see it bouncing excitedly, practically doing a happy dance from how much it enjoyed the food.

The contrast was so ridiculous that Pei Lang nearly buried his face in his bowl to suppress his laughter.

Unable to help himself, he finally chuckled. “In that case, I won’t bother you, Mr. Yan. I’ll just enjoy my meal.”

Then, without hesitation, he dug in.

He was so hungry that he didn’t bother eating slowly, though his movements remained refined. As he focused on his food, Yan Han was once again left completely ignored. With the lingering taste still on his tongue, he silently turned his wheelchair and headed upstairs to handle business.

Meanwhile, online discussions about Pei Lang had taken a surprising turn.

In the past few days, Pei Lang had been surprisingly well-behaved—something netizens never would have expected. With no new scandals or gossip to stir things up, the online drama actually started to lose momentum. Oddly enough, some of the more chaotic onlookers even began to miss his usual antics.

While public opinion largely remained sympathetic to Pei Ziqing, some people were now calling for Pei Lang to post a public apology video. However, Pei Lang himself neither apologized nor stirred up any trouble—he simply vanished from the public eye, as if he had evaporated.

The matter continued fermenting on the internet for a few more days, but eventually, after Pei Ziqing personally announced that the scratches on his face wouldn’t leave scars and even urged netizens not to harass his brother, the controversy slowly died down.

Inside the president’s office of Lanjin Entertainment, Su Jia, Yan Han’s assistant, couldn’t hold back his frustration.

“Boss, he created this mess himself. Why are you helping him?” he complained after finishing his reports.

Su Jia had never been able to stand Pei Lang. First, he had shamelessly pursued Yan Xiuyuan. Then, he had turned his attention to his own boss. But the most infuriating thing? That one time Pei Lang had insulted him by saying he wasn’t even worthy of being seduced.

Not worthy? What a joke. With his looks, Su Jia could easily debut as an idol if he wanted to.

Wait, no—who even wanted to be seduced by Pei Lang in the first place?!

Yet, despite everything, his boss had quietly stepped in to help suppress the online backlash against Pei Lang. Su Jia just couldn’t wrap his head around it.

Without looking up, Yan Han flipped to the next page of the contract he was signing. “Consider it returning a favor.”

Su Jia was stunned. “Boss… you actually owe him a favor?”

“He gave me a bite to eat,” Yan Han said matter-of-factly.

For a moment, Su Jia was completely dumbfounded.

It wasn’t easy to make Yan Han feel indebted to someone. Just as Su Jia was trying to make sense of it, Yan Han suddenly spoke again.

His previous tone had been cool and detached, but this time, there was an unexpected sharpness to it—so much so that Su Jia felt as if a sudden boom had gone off in his head.

“Boss? What delicacies in the world haven’t you eaten?” Su Jia blurted out. “And just because of one bite of food—”

Yan Han finally closed the contract and lifted his gaze.

Su Jia immediately shut up.

“I’m going to lunch,” Yan Han said simply.

Su Jia quickly straightened up. “Boss, which restaurant would you like today?”

The conversation was over. If he dared to bring up Pei Lang again, all the progress he had made over the past six months would go down the drain.

It was all Pei Lang’s fault.

“Which restaurant has the most complete selection?” Yan Han asked.

“Nanjingzhai. A famous chef works there—they can make anything you want,” Su Jia replied immediately.

“Go to Nanjingzhai.”

The moment Yan Han heard that it was a restaurant with a wide selection, he made his decision without hesitation.

Su Jia was taken aback. His boss had always eaten whatever the nutritionist planned for him, never expressing personal preferences when it came to food. This was the first time he had actively chosen a restaurant. Still, without questioning it, Su Jia immediately made a reservation. Having been to Nanjingzhai multiple times, he secured a private room with ease.

Nanjingzhai was a favorite among the wealthy elite, and at peak meal hours, getting a table usually required a long wait. The fact that Yan Han could get a private room immediately was a testament to his influence.

Half an hour later, they arrived at the restaurant, where the owner personally greeted them. After being seated, Yan Han flipped through the menu for a long time without ordering anything.

The restaurant owner, thinking he was struggling to decide, quickly recommended a few of their signature dishes. However, Yan Han remained silent.

Even the head chef was called in, and the three men stood waiting anxiously.

Yan Han was not a lively or easygoing person. He was known for his ruthless decisiveness, and ever since his injury, he had become even colder and more unpredictable. Given his high social standing, no one dared to displease him.

The tension in the room was suffocating. No one dared to breathe too loudly, and the only sound was the soft rustling of pages as Yan Han flipped through the menu.

Then, with a sharp snap, he closed the menu, clearly dissatisfied.

“I want a Summer Sunset.”

Everyone exhaled in relief now that he had finally placed an order.

Except for the chef, who immediately froze.

“Mr. Yan… uh, Summer Sunset…”

“What? You can’t make it?”

The icy glare Yan Han shot him nearly made the chef’s legs give out.

“You’re supposed to be a famous chef, aren’t you?”

“Yes… yes, of course. But I’ve never heard of a dish called Summer Sunset…”

Yan Han’s expression remained unreadable, but those who knew him well understood—his patience was razor-thin.

“So other famous chefs can make it, but you can’t?”

He had been thinking about this dish for days, and now that he finally had time to enjoy a proper meal, they were telling him it wasn’t available.

The restaurant owner immediately stepped in, his face pale. “Mr. Yan, we sincerely apologize for the oversight. We don’t know which chef originally prepared this dish, but we will track them down and learn how to make it. In the future, we will ensure Summer Sunset is always on our menu so that we never disappoint you again.”

“You advertise yourselves as a restaurant that can make anything.” Yan Han’s voice remained emotionless, but the hint of mockery in his tone was unmistakable. “Yet you can’t even make Summer Sunset? Maybe it’s time to reconsider your branding.”

The restaurant owner broke out in a cold sweat, afraid to say another word.

It was just a dish, not worth causing such a scene over, but Yan Han’s mood had already soured.

“I’m not hungry anymore. Let’s go back to the company.”

Having lost his appetite, Yan Han wheeled himself out of the restaurant, Su Jia following behind him.

Then, just as they stepped outside, Yan Han added, “One month’s bonus.”

Su Jia nearly tripped over his own feet.

Because of one wasted trip to a restaurant, his entire monthly bonus was gone. He never would have guessed that the usually indifferent Yan Han would be this upset over food.

Meanwhile, back inside, the chef and restaurant owner stood frozen in place, their faces deathly pale. They had no way of knowing that the mysterious dish Mr. Yan had specifically requested was nothing more than a simple plate of stir-fried tomatoes and eggs.

Su Jia, on the other hand, had no idea that the reason for his salary deduction was Pei Lang. If he found out, he would definitely make a note of it.

At that moment, Pei Lang received the private detective’s report containing all the details about the original owner’s past.

The original Pei Lang’s father had been a high school teacher, deeply in love with his mother—or so it had seemed. After getting married, they had Pei Lang, and for the first eight years, their family life had been happy.

Then, the illusion shattered.

One day, a woman showed up at their doorstep with a five-year-old child—Pei Ziqing’s mother, demanding accountability. It turned out that Pei Lang’s father had been unfaithful, and Pei Ziqing was his illegitimate son.

The betrayal devastated Pei Lang’s mother. The once-loving household descended into endless arguments and fights. The psychological toll was severe, especially on the young Pei Lang, who witnessed every ugly moment. Two years later, his mother, unable to bear it any longer, fell into depression and took her own life.

Barely after her death, Pei Ziqing’s mother officially moved in, replacing her as the legitimate wife.

The scandal was widely known throughout their town, and to escape the relentless gossip, Pei Lang’s father moved the family to a different city. But no matter how far they ran, Pei Lang never forgot.

He despised his father.

He resented Pei Ziqing.

With his mother gone and his home stolen, he developed a rebellious streak, constantly lashing out. Over time, he became an outsider in his own house—his presence tolerated, but never welcomed. Without guidance, without support, his loneliness and bitterness festered into something destructive.

Pei Ziqing had taken everything from him.

So Pei Lang wanted to take everything from Pei Ziqing.

It wasn’t love he felt for Yan Xiuyuan—it was pure defiance.

Yan Xiuyuan had only ever shown affection toward Pei Ziqing, treating him as someone special. That was enough for Pei Lang to want to take it away. And if he couldn’t take it, he would ruin it.

That was why he had tried to drug Yan Xiuyuan.

But Yan Xiuyuan was never someone he could touch.

In the end, it had only led to his own downfall.

Although Pei Lang now understood why the original owner had been the way he was, he still found it difficult to justify.

Pei Ziqing, despite everything, had been innocent in all of this.

Pei Lang sighed, muttering to himself, “I hope you get a better family in your next life. As for your future in this one… I’ll take care of it.”

The original novel had never delved into any of this.

The Pei Lang that readers knew was nothing more than a two-dimensional villain—a spiteful, irredeemable troublemaker whose sole purpose was to fuel the protagonist’s story.

But now, as Pei Lang stood in his shoes, he saw the cracks in that portrayal.

Perhaps the author had simply chosen to leave out the why—the pain and circumstances that had driven him to madness.

“Let’s go see what that scumbag father looks like,” Pei Lang muttered.

They said that after death, a soul could wander for seven days, revisiting the places it had lived.

If the original Pei Lang’s spirit was still lingering, then taking him home—letting him see for himself—was the least he could do for him.

The detective had provided a detailed address.

It was in a small town on the outskirts of the city, a three-hour drive away. A place with no towering skyscrapers, just a simple, lively atmosphere.

Dressed casually in a white T-shirt and gray shorts, paired with sneakers, Pei Lang looked more like a college student than a 27-year-old man.

Standing at the doorstep, he rehearsed his opening lines in his head.

Before he could even knock, the door swung open.

A handsome young boy stood there, eyes widening in shock.

“Brother?” the boy asked tentatively.

Pei Lang immediately recognized him.

He smiled. “Zi Qing.”