Chapter 1379 - 411: [Go Ask Your Dad]_3

Chapter 1379: Chapter 411: [Go Ask Your Dad]_3

Chen Yan simply opened the kitchen window, letting the outside air circulate in and slowly carry the stench of blood out of the room.

By the time the dumplings were cooked, the bloodstains on the floor had already been wiped once, but some discoloration still remained; it was obvious that one round of scrubbing wasn’t enough.

But looking at how out of breath Angie was, Chen Yan turned off the stove and tapped the pot with a ladle.

"Take a break. Eat first, then get back to work."

He scooped out the dumplings and filled two big bowls, then glanced around at the furnishings in the house.

With Wu lying on the dining table, he just carried all the food over to the coffee table in front of the couch.

Angie stared blankly at Chen Yan, obediently set down the mop, went to wash her hands, helped bring over bowls and chopsticks and such, then walked to the couch and sat down beside Chen Yan.

"Eat. You need a full stomach if you want strength to work." Chen Yan glanced at Angie. "After you finish, you can call the school and ask for leave—tell them that because of the fire a few days ago, you bumped your leg while escaping. You thought it was nothing at first, but the pain kept getting worse, so you need to rest at home for a couple of days."

Angie seemed about to speak but held back, finally summoning her courage to say quietly, "I don’t have to ask for leave... My high school isn’t that strict on management, it’s not some famous school anyway."

"Suit yourself then, do what you think is best." Chen Yan didn’t insist, just picked up a dumpling and put it in his mouth.

Pork and corn filling, not his favorite, but objectively speaking, it tasted decent.

If he can run a restaurant, Wu’s cooking has to be somewhat legit.

After that, Chen Yan asked Angie about the usual situation at home and at the restaurant, and once he’d finished questioning her, he helped Angie craft a cover story to keep on hand.

"If anyone comes by asking questions—why your dad isn’t opening up for business, whether it’s customers, friends, or the police—remember this: say one of your dad’s relatives is holding a wedding banquet and hired him to do the catering, and your dad went over to help."

Angie nodded silently. "...Got it."

"Don’t be so nervous. Weren’t you always pretty gutsy? Walking out of that party and just hopping into some random guy’s car to go joyriding." Chen Yan said coolly, "Just remember, no matter who asks, that’s what you say."

Angie looked at Chen Yan, her gaze suddenly a little complicated. "After the party that night I left on my own, you..."

"We don’t need to talk about that night anymore; it doesn’t really have anything to do with me." Chen Yan shook his head.

Angie hesitated again, then still looked at Chen Yan. "Chandler, who... who are you really?"

Seeing Chen Yan stay silent, Angie suddenly hardened her tone. "I’m guessing ’Chandler’ probably isn’t even your real name, right?"

"Don’t ask what you shouldn’t ask." Chen Yan shook his head. "Kid, don’t let your curiosity get that big."

"I’m not a kid anymore." Angie bit her lip.

"You’re not a kid?" Chen Yan let out a cold laugh, a few notes of mockery in his voice. "If you hadn’t been so clueless about life and death that night, jumping into some guy’s car and going off to God-knows-where to meet a bunch of dangerous scumbags...

Your dad wouldn’t be hurt like this. None of this trouble would’ve happened at all. Got it?"

Angie’s body trembled, a look of disbelief spreading across her face.

"Don’t glare at me like that. I’m not obligated to teach you a lesson, and I’m not obligated to answer all your questions. If you’ve got questions, wait till your dad wakes up and ask him yourself.

As for right now—did me cooking dumplings for you just now and acting a bit nice make you think I’m easy to deal with?"

As he spoke, Chen Yan’s tone hardened. "Quit the nonsense. Hurry up and finish eating, then get back to work and scrub all the blood off the floor."

Chen Yan really didn’t indulge this little girl.

And he wasn’t wrong: if this rebellious, good-for-nothing, clueless girl hadn’t run off with some guy, all the crap that followed wouldn’t have come down on them.

If that night she hadn’t gotten into Murray’s car, and instead had waited obediently for him to drive back and taken his car home, none of this would’ve happened.

So after they’d eaten, Chen Yan just leaned back on the couch and closed his eyes to rest, Nourishing the Spirit.

Tidying up, continuing to scrub the floor—all the work was dumped onto this fifteen-year-old girl alone.

Chen Yan didn’t spare her even a glance, much less lend a hand—for earlier, he’d cooked dumplings because he wanted to eat himself. The girl couldn’t even manage to mop the floor properly; if he waited on her to cook, who knew how long he’d be waiting.

After sitting a while, Chen Yan went over to a small shelf by the front door and picked up a set of car keys, then turned and walked out.

It was a compact hatchback Wu usually drove, parked nearby.

Chen Yan drove Wu’s car away, taking it to the back of that abandoned church where he and Mandy had previously hidden. He found a spot where no one could see it, parked it there, and then walked back to the street where the Chinese restaurant was.

Driving Wu’s car away was to avoid drawing attention.

If people asked, Angie would say her father had gone out to cater a banquet, but if Wu’s car were still parked nearby and someone who knew them saw it, they’d inevitably start wondering.

By the time he got back to the Wu Family home, Angie had finally finished cleaning. The floor had been scrubbed two or three times, and the bloodstains were gone.

With the ventilation and the scent of detergent, there was basically no smell of blood left in the house.

Angie was sitting at the dining table, right beside her father, worried sick, with a heavy layer of guilt and self-reproach in her expression.

What Chen Yan had said earlier had shaken her deeply—she honestly couldn’t understand how what she’d been through a few days ago could have anything to do with her father.

But given Chen Yan’s demeanor, he had no reason to lie to her.

Seeing Chen Yan return, Angie hurriedly stood up and walked over, her voice tinged with flattery and pleading. "Chandler, when will my father wake up?"

"Soon. He’ll definitely be awake before dark." Chen Yan looked at her. The girl’s face was haggard, deathly pale, with faint dark circles under her eyes.

"You barely touched the dumplings. Your father said you’ve got anemia, and you still dare to let yourself go hungry—trying to die or what?" Chen Yan frowned.

"I... I can’t eat."

"You eat even if you can’t. If that’s too hard, I saw milk and chocolate in the fridge—drink a glass of milk and eat two pieces of chocolate. Otherwise, if something happens to you, your father wakes up and then you collapse, this whole mess he’s gotten into will have been for nothing."

As he spoke, Chen Yan steered Angie into the kitchen, took chocolate and milk out of the fridge, and forced Angie to consume them.

Angie didn’t resist him, just obeyed quietly. Then she looked at Chen Yan and suddenly said, "I won’t ask about your business anymore, but... what exactly is going on with my dad?

I... he..."

The girl’s eyes were starting to redden again. "My dad might be strict with me, but he’s always had a quiet, honest temperament. He never causes trouble, he keeps a low profile.

Does he... have some kind of secret, some identity I don’t know about?

My dad, what kind of person is he really?"

"I don’t know. Ask him yourself." Chen Yan waved impatiently, then went back to the couch and sat down, sinking into it.

He didn’t just sit idle—he took out his phone and went online, mainly to check the news.

A few minutes later, he stared at a piece of breaking news on the screen and his eyelids twitched a few times.

Strictly speaking, it wasn’t "a piece" of news, but a local hot topic.

The hot topic was simple: the Mayor had been attacked—an assassination attempt with gunmen, leaving three dead and six injured! ℯℯ𝑙.

According to the police bulletin, the Mayor wasn’t dead, only wounded by gunfire. The casualties were apparently all security personnel, with one of them a member of the Mayor’s staff.

But the stories on social media were more messy.

According to leaks from insiders, one of the dead had a special status, seemingly a relative of the Mayor, and a direct relative at that.

In short, this case had already blown up the entire New York City police department!