Chapter 1

I opened a restaurant in an alley, and business was booming.

When the lease expired, I took the initiative to talk to the landlord about renewing it.

The landlord, Jasper Smith, crossed his legs and said, “My dear Flynn, my dear little nephew Harvey Jordan, wants to open a restaurant too. So, this place would be perfect for him.

“He thinks your food is delicious, so he went out of his way to learn all the recipes for your dishes and soups. Come to think of it, he has you to thank for your careful guidance!”

The blood rushed to my head.

Harvey Jordan had kept his relationship with Jasper from me and worked at my restaurant for half a year. He had stolen my recipes, and he was trying to kick me out to steal my customers?

I was furious. “Mr. Smith, isn’t this going a bit too far?”

Jasper slammed his hand on the table. “The shop lot is mine. I’m free to rent it to whomever I want! Clear everything out before the lease expires!”

I laughed through gritted teeth.

“Are you sure you want to go down this road?”

I had a secret blend of spices that I had never shared with anyone.

Without it, my soups would become increasingly bitter the longer they boiled.

Harvey had only learned some surface knowledge. He had yet to grasp the soul of it.

I was interested to see how he would manage running a restaurant without its soul.

Chapter 1

Harvey appeared innocent and guileless. “Mr. Lane, this shop lot belongs to my uncle. He can rent it to whomever he wants. You’re not going to get mad over this, are you? Besides, you’re such a skilled chef. You can just open up somewhere else.”

He made it sound so easy.

Somewhere else? My customers were familiar with this alley. They were used to finding me here.

If I moved my restaurant away, it would be like starting from scratch.

Meanwhile, he would be sitting in the restaurant I had just renovated, cooking with the recipes I taught him, and taking in the customers I had brought in.

This was a stab in the back.

I slowly stood up, and Jasper watched me warily. “What are you up to? I’m telling you, if you dare cause any trouble, I’ll call the police right now—”

“Mr. Smith.” I interrupted him with a smile.

“You’re right. The shop is yours, and it’s none of my business. Before the lease expires, I’ll clear everything out. Not a single item will be left behind.”

Then, I turned and walked away.

Harvey called out from behind me, “Mr. Lane, if you’re selling your equipment, let me look at them first. We’re acquaintances after all. I’ll quote you an estimate.”

I let out a cold laugh. Was he still trying to get his hands on my equipment?

He could dream on.

I ignored him and walked straight out.

As I rounded the corner of the staircase, I heard Jasper say from inside, “See that? People like him are cowards. Just scare them a little, and they’ll fall in line.”

Harvey’s laughter drifted out after that. “Uncle Jasper, you’re the man. I’m planning to change the sign next week to ‘Jordan’s Diner.’ It sounds way more modern than his lousy ‘Lane’s Kitchen.’”

I did not look back. Once inside the restaurant, I called a meeting with the staff.

“The lease is up, and Mr. Smith isn’t renewing it.” I got straight to the point. “He’s giving this space to his nephew, Harvey, to open a grill restaurant.

“I plan on moving to a new location and keeping the business going. Everyone will stay with me. Your pay will remain the same. Once the new place is up and running, I’ll give you all a raise. If that’s okay with you, we’ll start the move.”

I spoke with confidence.

There were four people working at the restaurant. Everyone had been with me for a long time; I had treated each of them with complete sincerity.

As soon as I finished speaking, Ms. Zena, one of the waitresses, was the first to speak up.

“Boss,” she said while setting her dishcloth down on the table, “Harvey came to see me.”

My heart skipped a beat, but I kept my composure. “What did he want?”

“He said they’re short a kitchen manager, and the pay is two thousand more than here,” Ms. Zena said as she avoided my gaze. “It’s work either place I go, but Harvey’s offering a higher salary.”

Wade and Flora also spoke up. “We’re staying to work for Harvey too.”

Standing nearby, Bernard’s eyes were filled with fury as he shouted, “Don’t you have any conscience left?!

“Don’t you remember how Mr. Flynn Lane has treated you all?” Bernard’s voice trembled with anger. “Ms. Zena, when your husband was hospitalized last year, Mr. Lane gave you an advance on your pay and even some extra cash. What did you say back then? You said, ‘Mr. Lane, you’re a lifesaver!’”

Chapter 2

“So, are lifesavers only worth two thousand dollars now?”

Ms. Zena’s face became flushed.

Flora looked down at her fingernails. “Bernard, that’s not very nice of you to say. A worker is just a worker. Bosses treat you well so that you’ll work harder, right? It’s a mutual arrangement; don’t make it sound like he’s done us some huge favor.”

Bernard glared at her, like he was shooting daggers out of them. “Shut up! You’re just as ungrateful as the rest of them!

“When you first started here and a guest was yelling right in your face, it was Mr. Lane who stepped in front of you and took the cup of tea that was thrown at you. Ask yourself and tell me, was that a ‘mutual arrangement’?

“When your boyfriend beat you up, you called Mr. Lane in the middle of the night in tears. Without a word, he drove over to pick you up and covered your stay at a hotel for a whole week! How dare you say things like that now?”

Flora fell silent.

Bernard turned to Wade. “And you. When you got into a fight and got detained, your family couldn’t reach you. It was Mr. Lane who went to the police station to bail you out and pay the five-thousand-dollar bond. After you got out, you said to him with tears in your eyes, ‘I’ll work like a slave for you for the rest of my life.’ Have you already forgotten what you said so quickly?”

Wade’s face paled but quickly turned red as he snapped in anger. “Bernard, that’s enough! Who doesn’t want to make some extra cash? Just because you’re going with Mr. Lane, you’re so noble and great, is that it?”

“I’m not noble,” Bernard said as he enunciated each word clearly. “I just have a conscience.”

I looked at Bernard, and my eyes stung.

His father was bedridden, and his mother was hauling bricks at a construction site.

I had helped him contact the neighborhood office to apply for financial assistance.

I had also pulled some strings to get his son into kindergarten.

He never once thanked me. But every morning, he was the first one at the restaurant. He would scrub the kitchen until it was shiny enough to see our reflections.

“Enough!” I interrupted them. “Harvey stole my trade secrets for half a year and pushed me out of business. Now, you’re all going to work for the guy who stole my recipes?”

“Harvey learned them openly and honestly. You chose to teach him. No one forced you. Besides, when you run a business, don’t we all learn from someone else?” Flora said with conviction.

I laughed through gritted teeth. It seemed that they were determined to follow Harvey.

“If you want to leave, I won’t stop you. But remember the way you’re walking out today. Don’t regret it later,” I calmly replied.

The three of them took off their aprons and left.

“Mr. Lane, I’m coming with you. Even if you just set up a street stand, I’ll still chop up the vegetables for you,” Bernard said tearfully.

At that moment, his words momentarily soothed all my bitterness and disappointment.

“Alright.” I nodded. “Let’s start over.”

After searching all day, I found a larger, more affordable storefront three blocks away and immediately contacted the landlord to rent it.

Harvey thought he had stolen my recipe.

He did not know that my secret blend of spices was the real recipe. I had learned it from a seventy-year-old retired herbalist far in the countryside.

Made from over a dozen medicinal herbs, the blend would become more fragrant the longer the ingredients marinated in it.

To complement the spice blend, I specifically developed matching recipes.

Without that secret spice blend, the food would become more bitter the longer it marinated and cooked. Anyone who ate it would get a sore throat.

They wanted to open another buffet and grill restaurant? Fine.

I would let them open one.

They would learn that some things simply could not be stolen.

My contract would expire in five days.

Jasper sent me a message in a matter-of-fact tone. [Hurry up and move out. You’ll have to pay a penalty for every extra day.]

So, I contacted several moving companies. The first one hung up as soon as they heard the address.

The second one said outright, “Mr. Smith has given us a heads-up. We don’t dare take jobs in this alley.”

The third one was even more blunt. “Mr. Lane, it’s not that we don’t want to help you, but fat old Smith has made it clear: whoever takes your job can forget about doing business on this whole street from now on.”

Bernard, who was listening nearby, clenched his fists.

Chapter 3

That afternoon, Harvey pulled up in a white luxury car. Leaning against the hood while sipping coffee, he smiled and said, “Mr. Lane, I had someone appraise your equipment. Twenty thousand, and I’ll take the whole lot. It’ll save you the trouble of moving them around and wasting money.”

I had spent nearly two hundred thousand on that entire set of equipment three years ago.

Even if it was three years old, to value it at twenty thousand? Were they giving change to a beggar?

I glared at him. “I’m not selling!”

The delight in Harvey’s eyes faltered. “Mr. Lane, it’s fine if you don’t want to sell, but will you be able to find a moving company? If you can’t find anyone to move everything, won’t you end up having to sell it all to me anyway?”

Harvey slammed his coffee cup hard against my store sign and knocked it to the ground.

He dusted his hands. Then, he stepped on the gas and drove off.

Just to get my equipment for cheaper, Jasper and Harvey had actually resorted to such underhanded tactics.

There was a lump stuck in my chest, and I felt suffocated with anger. It was sickening.

Jasper and Harvey assumed I was an easy target.

Ms. Zena, Flora, and Wade all assumed I was an easy target too.

However, I refused to back down.

“Bernard,” I said, “take some photos of my equipment for me. Film them from every angle. Then, post them on Marketplace. List them at a hundred and fifty thousand. We’re open to offers, but only sell to out-of-town buyers. No local sales.”

Bernard was stunned. “Mr. Lane, a hundred and fifty thousand? Who’s going to buy them?”

“It doesn’t matter if no one buys them,” I said. “Just post it first.”

I refused to believe that there was only one way of doing things in this world!

After that, I barely slept a wink.

I kept a close eye on the renovation of the new store. Meanwhile, I dismantled whatever could be taken apart from the old store and packed whatever could be boxed up.

That night, I found a list of equipment recyclers and called them one by one.

However, they either claimed that they did not buy used equipment or that it was too far away to be worth their while.

The last one was a man by the surname Louis. He specialized in buying used restaurant equipment, and his business spanned across three states.

He looked at the photos and videos I had sent and asked, “This set of equipment is in great condition. Why are you selling it?”

I did not hold back and gave him a brief explanation of what had happened.

After listening, Mr. Louis remained silent for a moment.

“Bro, just hearing about this makes me furious. Hold on. I’ll bring some guys along and drive over tomorrow to check it out in person.”

The next afternoon, Mr. Louis arrived in a van with two technicians.

After inspecting the equipment, Mr. Louis said, “This set’s in great condition. I’ll give you a hundred and ten thousand and haul it away immediately.”

I held out my hand. “Deal, but on one condition. You have to haul it away today. I’m on a tight schedule.”

Mr. Louis shook my hand with a smile and nodded. “Don’t worry. We’ll load it up right now.”

The two technicians then began dismantling the equipment.

Harvey had shown up again at some point, and he was standing at the store entrance. His face turned red with anger as he watched.

“Mr. Lane, what are you doing?!” he exclaimed while getting flustered. “Didn’t I tell you I wanted to buy your equipment? Why did you sell them to someone else?”

I wiped the dust off my hands and looked at him calmly. “I’m not selling for twenty thousand.”

“Then, you could’ve negotiated with me! How much did you pay for shipping by selling it to someone else? Are you out of your mind—”

I interrupted him. “Harvey, I’m free to sell to whomever I want. I’m clearing everything out before the lease expires. Whom I sell to and for how much is none of your business.”

He snorted and walked away.

According to his plans, I was supposed to beg him in tears to buy my equipment. Eventually we would close the deal for twenty thousand. Then, I would slink away in disgrace, never to be seen on this street again.

Too bad.

I made my own plans, and I was just waiting for the new store to open on May Day.

Harvey specifically chose to open his store the same day.

This was going to be quite a show.

On May Day, after cutting the ribbons, we were all set.

It was during the lunch rush, but the dining hall was empty. There was not a single customer in sight.

I pulled out my phone and posted on Stories. [Lane’s Kitchen New Location Grand Opening! Show your receipt from the original location to enjoy 20% off. Valid for three consecutive days.]

Bernard asked me, “Why didn’t you post this yesterday? They won’t manage to come right on opening day.”

Chapter 4

I smiled. “Because I’m waiting for someone to help us promote this place for free.”

My phone vibrated. Harvey had sent me a message.

[Mr. Lane, how’s the new restaurant going? Want to check out my place? I was worried it might be too quiet for you on your own, so I set up a live stream just for you to get a feel of the lively atmosphere here.]

A link followed the message, and I tapped on it.

The live stream loaded and showed Harvey’s store packed with people.

The comments rolled by one after another.

“Isn’t this where Lane’s Kitchen used to be?”

“The food tastes great, just like it used to!”

The camera panned, and Harvey made a heart shape with his hands toward the lens.

“Thanks for everyone’s support! It’s our grand opening today. There’s 20% off all food and free beer! If you’re not here yet, hurry on over. There are already more than twenty tables waiting in line!”

The chat box exploded with messages.

Suddenly, a line of text popped up in the bottom right corner of the screen. [Jordan’s Diner has tipped you a hundred dollars, with the message: Go for it, Mr. Lane!]

He tipped me on live stream in front of thousands of people.

It was humiliating.

His actions were telling everyone, “Look, here’s the guy I beat. I’m giving him a hundred dollars out of the goodness of my heart.”

I did not notice when Bernard had stood behind me. The veins on his hand were bulging as he gripped a kitchen knife.

“Mr. Lane, I’m going to his restaurant.”

“What for?”

“To slam this knife down on his table.”

I snatched the kitchen knife out of his hand.

“Don’t rush over. Let’s wait and see!”

Harvey’s food would taste off after being served for a while.

Without the balancing effect of my herb and spice seasonings, prolonged high-heat cooking released alkaloids that irritated the throat. Customers would feel increasingly parched and dry-mouthed as they ate. Their throats would eventually swell and ache.

Soon, I noticed more and more customers frowning.

Different comments began appearing in the live chat.

[To be honest, it was fine at first, but it tasted a little off toward the end.]

[Why does my throat feel a little uncomfortable?]

[I feel the same way. As I ate, my mouth became drier. I’ve been drinking water nonstop.]

Harvey was completely oblivious, and he even sent me another text to provoke me.

[Mr. Lane, your secret recipe really works. The customers all say the food tastes exactly the same as before.]

I sneered inwardly. Was that so?

Suddenly, a burly man with tattoos in the live stream threw down his cutlery.

“Get your boss out here!” he shouted angrily.

The restaurant’s customers all turned to look at him.

Harvey was startled, and his voice cracked. “Sir, what’s the matter? Is there a problem?”

“Let me ask you,” the tattooed man said as he pointed at the food and grill on the table. “What did you put in this? The more I eat, the weirder it tastes. Now, my throat feels like it’s on fire. My buddy says his throat’s swollen.”

The burly man next to him leaned in and opened his mouth.

The comment stream immediately filled with messages like [It’s so red!] and [His tonsils are swollen!].

Harvey’s face went pale.

“T-That’s impossible. We learned our recipes from the original Lane’s Kitchen.”

The tattooed man raised an eyebrow in displeasure. “So, this isn’t the original Lane’s Kitchen? Where did the original go?

Harvey bit his lip and said nothing.

The tattooed man then turned his gaze to Flora. “Tell me, where did the original Lane’s Kitchen move to?”

Flora’s hands trembled. “I-I don’t know…”

The atmosphere in the shop grew tense.

Suddenly, a highlighted comment floated through the live stream chat box.

[Lane’s Kitchen has opened a new location! Show your receipt from the old store to enjoy a 20% discount. Valid for three consecutive days. Address: Bliss Alley.]

[I found the owner’s Stories. Everyone, hurry over there!]