Chapter 25: Busyness and Regret

On Mo Ran’s side, he had no time to concern himself with what was happening to Su Qingcheng; he was too busy forging a path for his own future. And what was he busy with? Barbecue.

Xiao Xiao’s uncle was now teaching him the secrets of barbecue, hand in hand. The first lesson was clear: to make delicious food, one must first learn to choose ingredients. Which cuts of lamb are the best? Which part of the animal is most suited for skewers? These were arts in themselves. It all sounded simple, but if he had tried to figure it out alone, he would have wasted a great deal of time.

To that end, Xiao Xiao’s uncle had even purchased a whole lamb for demonstration, skillfully separating the meat from the bone, selecting the choicest parts for skewers.

“Mo, pay close attention. This is the cut you want—the fat content is just right, evenly marbled, and for a long skewer, five pieces per stick,” Xiao Xiao’s uncle explained as his hands worked deftly, quickly carving up the lamb.

Next came skewering and marinating. Xiao Xiao’s uncle disappeared into the back kitchen and soon returned with a white plastic bag containing a mixture of black and red powders.

“This is my own tenderizing spice blend,” he said, placing the skewered lamb pieces into a large plastic basin, rinsing them with water before draining away the excess. Then he sprinkled the spice blend evenly over the meat.

As a light breeze stirred, the fragrance of the spices began to drift in the air. Though the meat had yet to touch the fire, all three of them felt their appetites awakened.

“Let it marinate for about two hours, and it’ll be ready to taste. But if you want that truly mouthwatering flavor, you need at least eight hours for the spices to fully infuse,” Xiao Xiao’s uncle said, glancing at the clock once everything was done.

“Mo Ran, did you remember all that? Uncle’s barbecue technique is a treasured skill. Not to mention, just this tenderizing spice recipe alone—if you took it outside to partner in a new shop, people would fight for a fifty percent share,” Xiao Xiao said with a laugh, seeing Mo Ran’s intent gaze fixed on the spices.

“Don’t exaggerate, girl. It’s not that dramatic,” her uncle replied, scratching his head in embarrassment. “Come, Mo, from today onward, I’ll pass this recipe to you. But I have one condition: you can use it to sell barbecue or as a finished spice blend, but you must never sell the recipe itself, nor use it for business partnerships. This is the fruit of my life’s work.”

“No, Uncle, this gift is too much,” Mo Ran replied, feeling the pressure mount as he quickly stepped back, “Why don’t you just sell me the finished product?”

“A real man shouldn’t dither. This is all I have to give—remember what I said, it’s the recipe. Take it.” As he spoke, Xiao Xiao’s uncle produced a sheet of white paper from his pocket, crisp and new, clearly prepared in advance.

“That’s right, Mo Ran, just accept it. Take it as our family’s thanks for saving my life. Besides, my future supply of lamb skewers depends on you,” Xiao Xiao teased, and seeing Mo Ran still hesitate, snatched the recipe and pressed it into his hand.

Over the next two days, Mo Ran threw himself into learning, mastering everything from selecting lamb and spices to blending the marinade and controlling the heat of the grill.

Meanwhile, at Su Corporation, things had taken a bleak turn. In order to prevent things from getting worse, Su Dashan was forced to come out of retirement and take command again. With his steady hand, the company finally found its footing, and the stock price gradually began to recover.

Yet the sudden blow was too much for Su Qingcheng, who had enjoyed three years of smooth sailing. Proud and ambitious, she could not accept this reality. Worse, forced into a mandatory leave by her grandfather, her confidence began to crumble. Locked in her room, she refused food and water, her long legs curled up as she slumped against the bay window, staring blankly outside.

Three years of unbroken success had built up her pride; now, reality had shattered it with a single blow, leaving her no courage to rise again.

She did not know how long she sat there. When Su Qingcheng finally returned to herself, the azure sky was already fading into dusk, night slowly descending.

“A good son-in-law brings fortune to three generations of the Su family. Is this truly my fate?” she murmured as the darkness deepened outside.

Suddenly, she jerked upright. She remembered: three years ago, not long after their marriage, she had sent Mo Ran to one of the corporation’s construction subsidiaries, which had caused an uproar among the staff. Was all this related?

With a start, she leapt from the window seat, threw on her slippers, and hurried to her computer. Logging into the company’s internal network, she quickly found the investigation report about the construction subsidiaries: several general managers had falsified credentials and supplied substandard work.

“It’s true—Mo Ran was telling the truth all along!” As her fingers scrolled down the report, the full scope appeared before her. At the end, seeing the timeline, her eyes widened in shock. She exited the page, trying to check the follow-up actions, but a window popped up: insufficient permissions, forced logout.

Once again, her own grandfather had cut her off, and whatever dignity she had left was crushed. Three years of authority and reputation vanished in an instant.

A tidal wave of regret crashed over her. Why hadn’t she investigated Mo Ran’s warnings back then? Why had she dismissed his concerns, listening only to the one-sided stories of the subsidiary managers? Mo Ran had seen the signs three years ago, but her prejudice had blinded her; she was convinced his warnings were born from jealousy over her becoming CEO. She never imagined he had been offering her a lifeline.

If she had only heeded his advice back then, she might now be at the pinnacle of her career.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…” Now her regret was a bottomless ocean, swallowing her whole. Feeling like a fool for three years, Su Qingcheng could not face it; she covered her face and wept, her words muffled by sobs.

Then, in the midst of her tears, she suddenly remembered Liu Chuanfeng. It was for him she had decided to divorce Mo Ran. Without hesitation, she picked up her phone and sent him a message, hoping for help. But within seconds, a glaring red exclamation point appeared—the message undelivered.

Staring at her phone, she was stunned, unable to calm herself for a long time.

“Liu Chuanfeng, you bastard, how dare you treat me this way…” Her eyes were bloodshot, her right hand clenched tight around her phone, her voice trembling with bitter fury. But the tears streaming from her eyes, like pearls on a broken string, betrayed how close she was to breaking, battered by loss and humiliation, her spirit on the verge of collapse.