"Bang!"
The old wooden door was kicked open, and the dust on the door frame fell down.
I looked up at the door and kept scooping up the noodles in my hands.
The noodles are tumbling in the boiling water, white steam is rising, and the whole rental house is filled with the fragrance of chopped green onion. On the broken table was a bowl of freshly prepared sauce. The chili oil was red and bright, and the smell of it made people drool.
"Zhao Yuan! Do you still want to eat noodles?"
The person coming is Zhao Fu, the chief steward of my second uncle Zhao Changhe. Behind him were four burly bodyguards, who blocked the entrance to the narrow rental house.
Zhao Fu glanced at the furnishings in the room, and the sarcasm almost overflowed from the corner of his mouth - it was a ten-square-meter single room with peeling walls, air leakage from the windows, and the only electrical appliance was the induction cooker for cooking noodles.
"Tsk, tsk, the eldest young master of the Zhao family has lived in this shabby place for ten years. Are you really... Used to living there?" He smiled sinisterly and threw a brown paper bag in his hand on the table. "The Yun family sent someone to deliver a letter of termination of contract. Take a look at it yourself."
I didn't answer, took out the noodles, mixed with the sauce, picked up a chopstick and put it into my mouth.
The hot noodles are coated with spicy oil and chopped green onion, which is chewy and has just the right taste.
"Yeah." I chewed the noodles and nodded, "My craftsmanship hasn't deteriorated yet."
Zhao Fu's face darkened: "I'm talking to you!"
"I heard it." I took a slow sip of the noodle soup, "Just put the termination letter over there, I'll read it later."
