An Ex-Husband's Crematorium

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The road where the piano store is located is very quiet, and there are basically small shops around. At night, when the shutter is opened, the boss pats his butt and goes home to sleep, and there is no one on the whole street.

But now, the only popular place here is the private restaurant opposite the piano store.

There were no customers, and the doors were closed, but the lights were bright.

It’s really strange to say that the owner of this private restaurant, Wei, is doing something strange. It’s not like making money, but looking for a place to settle down for the elderly. Some time ago, it was said that it was going to open soon, and many people were waiting for the opening day. As a result, it drove back and forth without any movement.

The teachers in the piano shop couldn't sit still anymore. When they inquired, Boss Wei said that they had opened a long time ago, and that day when Jiang Jili and the others went to eat, that was the opening.

Boss Wei said that in his case, when the kitchen fires, it means opening.

There is no publicity at all, even a poster is reluctant to post it, it is impossible to tell from the outside that this is a restaurant, and people believe it is a hotel.

That's not all, Boss Wei is very particular about receiving people and treating guests. He seldom does direct door-to-door business. Ordering food depends on fate. Face to face, we can only come after talking.

Ninety-nine percent of the guests in Tongqiao were driven away by this pretentious rule, and Boss Wei didn't care. He made tea, drank tea and read books every day in the indoor redwood pavilion on the first floor. Closed for several days.

Jiang Jili and Shao Wei had a private chat, and they both felt that Boss Wei was not like a cook at all. How could a cook not have any oily fumes on his body?

Of course, there must be a smell, that is, the smell of books and ink. Jiang Jili has seen him practice calligraphy in that small pavilion, and he can write good calligraphy, at least twenty years of speaking.

Jiang Jili thought he was an artist before, but later he felt that Boss Wei might really be an artist.

In this regard, Shao Wei said that there is an essential difference between an artist and a businessman. Like him, it is impossible not to do door-to-door sales. Even if he steps on his face, he has to accept the big orders. Like Boss Wei, giving him money depends on his face.

Shao Wei also said that in this day and age, such people are generally not short of money.

The night gradually darkened, and the entire Tongqiao Town fell asleep, but the restaurant fired up uncharacteristically, and a figure in the semi-open kitchen was chopping vegetables without rushing.

It's Boss Wei.

He is still in the padded Tang suit, and the dishes he is cooking in his hands are not delicacies, but fried small fish. The plate beside him has already filled a lot. strip.

He thought to himself, the six little guys eat a lot.

After frying the last piece of dried fish and turning off the fire, Boss Wei suddenly heard the door on the second floor open. He understood it, and carefully placed a plate for the dried fish and put some bright catnip on it. leaf.

Footsteps were heard on the stairs, Boss Wei picked up the plate and walked out.

He bent down towards the top of the dark stairs, and said respectfully, "Sir."

He was greeted by six little fur balls that were crawling and crawling. Perhaps the kitten had already smelled the smell and ran ahead in a hurry. He fell down, "slapped" a few times, and fell in front of Boss Wei.