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Though Lu Yao had locked the doors before he’d left for work, he hadn’t been sure the gangster would actually be there when he got home. The man had broken into his apartment before and every (glorious) inch of him had screamed mobster. The watch alone could probably be pawned for enough to get his rug cleaned, so Lu Yao wasn’t as worried about “Qiao Chusheng” running away as he claimed.
It was immediately obvious the man hadn’t left when Lu Yao gets home. During the day, Lu Yao locked his doors. During the night, he didn’t bother. It discouraged his landlady from hitting on him, because it made her think he was entertaining lady friends who slipped away in the dead of night. She might make pointed comments about him settling down, but she stopped suggesting alternate ways Lu Yao might pay his rent. And he had to unlock his doors upon arriving home- so either the man had managed to relock them without a key, or he simply hadn’t left. Good thing Lu Yao had picked up enough baguettes for two.
The man of the hour is napping on the sofa as Lu Yao enters and Lu Yao takes a second to look him over. The stitches look fine and the discoloration is consistent with bruising. The position provides enough support for the broken ribs too. Excellent. Now to turn his attention to the kitchen. It’s still fairly cool out, so French Onion soup won’t be too hot for the weather.
He had beef stock left over, so that was his base. First the olive oil, then the onions…so involved in his cooking, he definitely didn’t notice his guest awaken.
It was kind of hard to miss the knife at his throat though. Good thing the soup was just simmering, if Qiao Chusheng had interrupted earlier, when Lu Yao was still caramelizing the onions, there would’ve been words. “I see you’re up.” Lu Yao said, nonplussed by the knife at all. “I was surprised when you didn’t leave.”
“You locked the doors.” Qiao Chusheng pointed out. “And told me not to leave.”
“I was under the impression that wouldn’t stop a gangster.”
“I am also shirtless.” The knife at Lu Yao’s neck disappeared and Lu Yao had to wonder where to. There wasn’t pockets in the pants, Lu Yao would know. “I thought you didn’t recognize my name.”
“I don’t.” Did Shanghai have famous gangsters now? Should Lu Yao have picked up a briefing somewhere? Ugh, this whole city was almost more trouble then it was worth. “But you’ve got a tattoo on your ankle. Plus injuries consistent with an active criminal life. Not to mention the quality of your clothes, despite the blood.” Without a knife to his throat, Lu Yao happily went back to tasting his soup. Hmm, not too much pepper this time. “As for your nakedness- well, you’d if you weren’t so happy getting chopped up, you’d be improving the scenery of the French Concession.”
Qiao Chusheng just carefully ignored that last sentence because he just wasn’t sure what to do with it. The rest of it though- it seems his accidentally acquired doctor had a keen eye. “Perhaps I’m new money.”
“I’m sure you are.” There was only new money and old money. If Qiao Chusheng had been old money, Lu Yao would’ve had more to worry about then blood on his carpet. “Opium?”
“No, Mr. Bai doesn’t deal in it.” Most recently, shoddily constructed sewers. It had definitely turned a good profit though.
“Good on Mr. Bai. You like French Onion soup?” Feeding the gangster again hadn’t really been on the agenda, but well, Lu Yao was always a sucker for fine things. And he knew exactly how fine those muscles were.
“I’ve never had it.”
Lu Yao stared. Then pointed at the chairs around the table. “Then sit down. If you’re going to kill me, you can at least wait until after you’ve eaten.”
Qiao Chusheng gives a short, dry laugh as he takes the offered seat. “I’m not going to kill you.”
“So you bring a knife out on anyone who tries to help you?” The question was rhetorical as Lu Yao bobbed his head thoughtfully. “No wonder you chose my rug over the hospital.”
The gangster ducked his head and Lu Yao thought that was actually quite adorable of him. “I suppose you must think me quite rude. What do you want?”
“I told you,” Lu Yao gestured to the rolled up carpet even as he split the soup into two bowls, “I want you to pay for the damages.” He served the bowl to Qiao Chusheng, who accepted it.
“Very well. I repay my debts. From now on, I will be your wallet.”
Lu Yao was hardly going to pass up on a deal like that. “Just don’t bleed out on my carpet again and we’ll settle the account of my services this time, Mr. Qiao.” He had his eye on that lovely new blue silk his tailor had gotten in after all. And his stocks weren’t due to pay off for another four months…