Chapter 37: What Else Would You Like to Eat

Xu Mo subtly signaled her with his eyes—go in first, don’t worry about the rest for now.

And just like that, the inconspicuous little staffer, without much fanfare, ended up sitting right beside the top leader.

Officially, for the sake of “listening in on the discussion.”

During the meal, Director Li introduced the signature dishes while weaving in details about the nursing home’s operations over the past few years.

Gu Yao was indeed diligently taking notes.

Of course, it took some mental effort.

Secretary Zhou wasn’t one to make vague remarks without reason. There was a good chance he had already seen through her real motive for coming to Anle Town.

This so-called “listening in” was, in reality, a learning opportunity for her.

But her stomach was protesting loudly.

At the moment, priority had to be given to appeasing the temple of the five viscera.

As the conversation flowed around the table, Zhou Zhengliang’s gaze drifted unobtrusively toward the girl beside him. Her quiet demeanor contrasted with how focused she was on eating. It made the corner of his lips lift ever so slightly.

She must’ve been starving.

Composed, he braced one hand on the table’s edge and, almost casually, turned a few of her favorite dishes within her reach.

She didn’t even notice, still immersed in her meal.

Until a deep voice sounded by her ear, asking:

“What else would you like to eat?”

“Crispy pork ball soup,” she blurted out.

She froze.

Slowly, stiffly, she turned to face him—only to meet a pair of warm, attentive eyes.

A silent flush crept up her cheeks.

To smooth things over, she gave a polite, composed smile and added a soft “Thank you.”

This girl, at every moment, was drawing boundaries between them.

Zhou Zhengliang withdrew his gaze with a calm expression and smoothly changed the topic, asking Director Li, “If the residents were reluctant to relocate, why didn’t you try to negotiate privately with the developer before construction began?”

As soon as the top official spoke, everyone naturally put down their chopsticks.

Gu Yao followed suit.

Truth be told, she was curious about the answer too.

From the time the project was approved to when the demolition notice was issued, the nursing home should have been among the first to receive compensation terms from Hengyuan Group. They hadn’t raised any objections at first, so why suddenly make a stand now, refusing to be moved?

At the mention of this, Director Li sighed. “Secretary Zhou, what you may not know is that the nursing home’s equity structure is rather complicated. When the agreement with Hengyuan Group was signed, only a third of the shareholders were actually involved.”

What did that mean?

Could the issue they were facing go deeper than just public outrage over forced demolition?

Unfortunately, the conversation was cut short by a phone call for the leader.

As Zhou Zhengliang rose and stepped out to take the call, Director Li and the others quickly shifted back into host mode, warmly offering menus and encouraging the officials to order more dishes.

After lunch, there was to be a roundtable discussion.

Gu Yao wasn’t part of it.

So, taking advantage of some free time, she decided to wander around the nursing home and observe how the residents lived.

Roughly two hundred meters behind the cafeteria was a recreation and leisure area, separated by a small bamboo grove.

In the dead of winter, the leaves had withered and fallen. But through the bare branches came the faint sound of laughter and conversation.

She instinctively walked in that direction, deeper into the grove.

As she drew closer, the scene opened up before her: four elderly residents in wheelchairs gathered around playing table tennis.

Their faces glowed with happiness. The mood was peaceful and lighthearted—everything about it radiated a quiet, enduring warmth.

It seemed the demolition had not yet cast a shadow over the residents’ lives.

She stood there watching for a moment, until the ball rolled to her feet.

Bending down, she picked it up and stepped forward to greet them.

A white-haired old lady reached out to take it, her tone kind as she thanked her.

“No need, Grandma,” Gu Yao replied sweetly.

The girl had a sweet mouth and a lovely face. Unfamiliar, too—this must be her first visit.

The old lady looked her over for a few seconds, then asked curiously, “Are you Old Jiang’s granddaughter from next door?”

Old Jiang…

Gu Yao smiled.

She didn’t rush to deny it. Sometimes, a beautiful misunderstanding could actually be a good thing.

All afternoon, she played ping pong with the elderly, did paper-cutting, arranged flowers, and shared amusing stories from the internet—making a group of octogenarian grandmothers laugh until they couldn’t close their mouths.

Of course, fun was fun.

But she didn’t miss a single important detail.

For instance, ten years ago, the nursing home was on the brink of bankruptcy.

Many of the town’s elderly were left behind while their children worked in far-off cities. They didn’t want to relocate their parents, and visiting them elsewhere would’ve been inconvenient. That’s when the idea of pooling their money for a group equity investment emerged. They scraped together funds to rescue the nursing home.

Director Li had been moved to tears, promising that once the home turned a profit, he’d personally distribute annual dividends to every household—and signed formal shareholder agreements.

Because of the deep financial hole, there were no dividends for the first two years.

But starting from the third year—

At this point, the conversation was abruptly cut short. A woman in her early forties, one of the caregivers, appeared and interrupted the group.

She politely ushered the elderly back, saying it was getting late and too chilly to stay outside.

Gu Yao saw through the underlying reason, but didn’t press the matter.

She knew that digging further would only make the management more guarded.

Thinking back to Director Li’s behavior at lunch—

Could he be quite the seasoned actor too?

With the fog of confusion still unresolved, she didn’t jump to conclusions. Carrying her doubts, Gu Yao slowly walked out of the courtyard, retracing her steps.

At the edge of the bamboo grove, she ran into Director Meng, who had just finished his phone call.

He looked surprised to see her—but in the next second, something seemed to click in his mind, and an understanding crossed his expression.

The curiosity on the girl’s face was practically glowing.

Meng Changjun didn’t hold back. As they walked back together, he filled in the rest of the story for her.

“Starting from the third year, with policy support, Anle Town began developing culinary tourism. Combined with its natural ‘oxygen bar’ environment, it drew in a lot of resources from the city. In recent years, more and more elderly from across the region have been applying to live here. With the dual benefits of policy and popularity, profits soared—and so did the value of each shareholder’s equity.

“Unfortunately, just as the dividends kept getting better each year, word suddenly came down that a resort project would require the demolition of the site. That shattered everything.”

At this, Gu Yao suddenly felt as if everything had clicked into place.

Putting herself in their shoes—

They could’ve continued earning increasing dividends. Now, they were being bought out in one go. Based on the compensation Hengyuan Group offered, each shareholder might get at most 300,000 yuan. But even if they moved and started over, who could guarantee they’d replicate this success and continue earning passively?

Some of the elderly—less savvy—had already signed the agreement.

But others, especially those with children working out of town, were far more alert. Once they learned about this, they outright refused. Believing the compensation was far too low, they began planning behind the scenes to stir public opinion and pressure the developer to offer more—forcing them to “buy peace” with money.

From a capitalist standpoint, how could a developer not weigh the cost?

Even with the drama escalating to this point and drawing government attention, Hengyuan still refused to budge. Instead, they doubled down—playing victim and crying poor, claiming that if things kept going this way, no one would dare do business in Qionghai anymore.

In short, interests were tangled on all sides. Everyone had their reasons. And the deadlock dragged on.

Gu Yao speculated, “So Secretary Zhou’s visit to the nursing home… he’s trying to mediate as a neutral party?”

“And what do you think the real purpose of a top official’s visit is?”

Meng Changjun didn’t answer directly. He only smiled and threw the question back at her.

The girl fell silent.

Thinking it over carefully—it did seem unlikely.

Big leaders never moved in predictable ways.

All they could do now was wait.

She had a feeling: this farce was about to come to an end.