Overprotected By My Tsundere CEO

Chapter 308 - 200: Tofu Shop, Virtue Retreat Proprietor [Second Update]

This rather special friend, she almost lost her life for him, yet she knows nothing about his past. Upon reflection, it seems somewhat strange.

*

Nora Scott didn’t linger long at Matt Leung’s grave.

She stayed for about half an hour, poured out half a bottle of Erguotou, and placed the remaining half bottle along with the bouquet of roses. Then she waved her hand, bid farewell, and left.

On the way back, Nora made a few phone calls. Just as she was getting tired and ready to rest, she suddenly received a call from Pedro Langley.

"Who are you chatting with on the phone?"

Pedro Langley asked immediately.

Leaning back on the chair, Nora switched to a more comfortable position, "Quite a few people, who do you want to know about?"

Over the phone, Pedro’s soft laughter, accompanied by a gentle breeze, drifted in.

"You’re still out?"

Pedro sharply picked up the sound of the wind and the car engine over the phone.

No city hustle and bustle.

"Yeah."

Nora squinted out the window, seeing shadows of cars falling on the road, with the shape of a Buddha’s eagle on top.

Shadows skimming over the monotonous ground.

Pedro said, "I have a business trip, I’ll be in Anchel in a couple of days."

"How long will you stay?"

"I don’t know, depends on the project progress."

"Oh."

"Aren’t you going to say anything about ’playing host’?"

"I’m very busy, not a local." Nora lazily replied, "If you want to have fun, I’ll have a local show you around."

"Not here to play."

Pedro clearly and simply declined.

"...We’ll see when you get here." Nora said speechlessly.

"Mm."

Pedro was slacking off at work, clearly during work hours, yet chatting idly with Nora.

The chubby man sitting in front was drowsy and dozing in the car, vaguely hearing Nora’s voice catching his ear. Hearing fragmented words, something suddenly struck him, waking him up with a start, sitting up with a jolt.

The driver was so startled by him that he almost slammed on the brakes.

The driver gave the chubby man a strange look, opened his mouth to ask, but saw the chubby man put his chubby finger to his lips, signaling him to stay quiet.

"..."

The driver obediently shut his mouth.

The chubby man cautiously craned his neck, carefully observing the situation behind through the car’s interior mirror.

Nora habitually answers calls without idle chat, always straightforward with business matters, never saying more than necessary.

Never seen her talking on the phone for this long.

In the rearview mirror, her stunning profile could be seen, with a light smile and bright eyes, looking in a good mood, no different from usual. But upon deeper thought—having a good mood while chatting changes the meaning entirely.

A minute later, the chubby man sensed he discovered something, but didn’t dare to think deeply, quickly dismissing what he thought was an unrealistic idea.

Emmm, I wonder what kind of man Nora has taken a liking to...

The chubby man was filled with fantasies.

*

City center, within the city walls.

This is a bustling area, also a popular tourist spot, retaining vintage architecture, with inns, food stalls, specialties, various shops lining the street, dazzling in variety with immense foot traffic.

Right in the center, there’s a store with a clean and tidy facade, not particularly eye-catching, with a wooden sign above the facade that reads "Tofu Shop" in calligraphy, both material and style are very vintage.

The shop door is open, with a sign for "Sweet Soybean Pudding," and as you walk in, the shop is uniformly decorated in a vintage style, with retro-style lamps hanging overhead, adorned with tassels and bells. Each table and chair, all made of mahogany, are specially customized according to the shop layout.

There are calligraphy paintings on the walls, signed by renowned artists as connoisseurs can tell at a glance, though generally, no one gives them much notice.

However, despite such an antique and charming setting, not a single customer is in sight.

Afternoon, four o’clock.

Two female college students passing by, lingered outside, their gazes irresistibly drifting inside.

"This shop has such style," one girl tugged her companion, asking curiously, "Do they only sell tofu?"

"Wanna have a look?" her companion suggested.

"Let’s go."

The girl nodded slightly, immediately pulling her companion inside.

The two of them, hand in hand, stepped inside, took a glance, and froze at the entrance.

Around a table against the wall, there was a dense group of people, lining up into a long queue. They were mostly dressed in uniform chef outfits, each holding a plate of food, standing straight with solemn and tense expressions, as if facing a stringent test.

At first glance, those unaware might even mistake it for a Michelin evaluation.

And the focal point of the crowd—also the only one seated—was a young man about twenty-six or twenty-seven years old.

This person was blessed with good looks, his face as exquisite as jade, impressively handsome, possessing the kind of appeal that would frequently draw attention while walking down the street.