Chapter 019: Your Son Has Jumped

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Li Tianque’s videos followed a down-to-earth style, so his works often featured private kitchens, small taverns, and humble, long-standing establishments. The place he planned to visit today was another such distinctive little spot, nestled within a residential building.

This restaurant was opened by a beautiful single mother, hidden inside Tiedong Garden Community—a warm and unpretentious eatery. There were only three tables in the entire place, and it only served lunch and dinner, each within a three-hour window.

The menu changed daily. A small table would be served four dishes, a soup, and a dessert; a large table received eight dishes, a soup, and two desserts. Each guest also enjoyed a special cocktail crafted by the owner and left with a small bag of her handmade nougat.

The kitchen and floor staff totaled just three, but the restaurant was always full, requiring reservations in advance.

Recently, a spate of incidents where food-review streamers had fallen victim to crimes left most restaurants wary—they refused to host influencers, even if it didn’t affect regular customers.

But Li Tianque had already arranged with the owner to visit today. True to her word, even in these unusual times, she agreed to welcome him, though they scheduled it for just after lunch service—three in the afternoon.

Li Tianque arrived at the community on time and hurried into the elevator. The restaurant sat on the sixteenth floor, but thanks to its placement on a central terrace between two buildings, it boasted a small sky courtyard outside.

Once out of the elevator, the place was easy to spot: a lush, cascading wall of green, dotted with bright flowers, made it look like a woodland cottage—utterly unique.

At the door hung a finely crafted wooden sign, “Delisa’s Private Kitchen”—a name playing on the word “delicious,” and indeed, it lived up to it.

Pots of thriving green plants lined the entrance, with pink blooms arranged along the fence. In the evenings, colorful lights twinkled, making the space feel incredibly inviting.

At this hour, however, a “Closed” sign hung from the door handle.

Li Tianque filmed a brief introduction outside, giving a quick overview of his visit and the restaurant’s background, then pressed the small red bell.

A gentle melody began to play—Sojiro’s “The Small Box in Memory”—soothing and pleasant.

Moments later, the owner, Shen Jiayun, welcomed him in with warmth. Shen Jiayun, a graceful woman in her forties, was remarkably well-kept: curvaceous yet slender, her bearing serene, still possessing the features and figure of a southern maiden. She looked so young that one would never guess she was mother to a twelve-year-old child.

This was Li Tianque’s third visit, and he was already well acquainted with Shen Jiayun. He greeted her with a cheerful smile:

“Sister Shen, I hope it’s not too much trouble for you today.”

“Nonsense,” she replied with a gentle smile, her expression as warm as spring, “Big streamers like you usually have people lining up to invite them!”

“Heh, you flatter me. I’m just earning a living—hardly a big name.”

With that, Li Tianque switched on his mic and raised his camera stick.

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Since he hadn’t hired an assistant, he still filmed in selfie mode—a hallmark of his channel, with no plans to recruit a partner anytime soon.

He adjusted the angle, addressing the camera:

“On a sunlit afternoon, slipping into a woodland cottage hidden amidst the concrete jungle, dining in a cozy, secret courtyard—what could that feel like? Today, I’ll show you all exactly that.

Now, I’ve stepped into this garden-like restaurant. As a die-hard Sojiro fan, I’d have loved to linger in the healing chimes, but our star for today came out to greet us with such warmth—I’m honestly a little overwhelmed!

Here’s the stunning lady you see before you—our owner and chef, Sister Jiayun. Not only is she beautiful, but her culinary skills are second to none. If you don’t believe me, just wait and see!”

Shen Jiayun then warmly offered him slippers, inviting him inside:

“Come in and have some tea. There are no other guests right now, so you can take your pick of tables.”

“Heh, well, don’t mind if I do.”

Li Tianque slipped on the slippers and began filming the restaurant’s interior. He didn’t record his voice during this part, intending to add narration in post-production.

The restaurant was a converted apartment—a 170-square-meter, four-bedroom, two-living-room, two-bath home. Two terrace-facing bedrooms had become private dining rooms, and the main living room was now a large private suite.

Li Tianque chose a pink-toned room and settled into a swinging chair.

Soon, a young woman brought in a pot of specialty flower tea, poured him a cup, and said,

“Mr. Li, this is a blend Sister Jiayun crafted herself—refreshing for the mind, and good for the spleen and stomach.”

“Haha, sitting in such a youthful room and sipping flower tea, I can’t help but crave a peach. Any peaches around?”

She giggled, “Sure! If you really want some, I’ll suggest to Sister Jiayun to prepare a fruit platter for you later.”

“No need—coming to Sister Shen’s and only eating fruit, that’d be a waste of her talent.”

At ease, Li Tianque sipped his tea and fiddled with the camera, preparing to record a tea-drinking segment.

But just as he picked up his phone, something in the corner of his eye caught his attention. Behind the curtain, he seemed to glimpse a black silhouette.

At first, he thought he must be mistaken. But the figure appeared to move ever so slightly, confirming his unease.

Strangely, the figure moved rigidly, but made no sound at all.

Suddenly, the shadow darted and then quickly returned to its original spot.

Startled, Li Tianque spilled some tea from his cup.

Steadying himself, he examined the figure more closely. It wasn’t tall—likely a grade-school child.

He relaxed somewhat. Today was Saturday, so schools were off. It must be Sister Shen’s child, probably hiding in the room, playing a game.

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Li Tianque knew the little boy and found him lively and adorable, so he called out playfully:

“Xiao Dong, come on out! Your fox tail is about to sweep onto the table!”

To his surprise, the shadow behind the curtain didn’t react, but slowly edged closer to the window.

A jolt of alarm shot through Li Tianque. The window was open, and it wasn’t a full floor-to-ceiling style, but a two-part pane. This was the sixteenth floor—a child playing on the windowsill would be in grave danger.

As he thought this, the figure wobbled onto the ledge, swaying precariously.

Seeing the boy ignore him, Li Tianque sensed something was wrong.

But as a guest, he couldn’t just dash over and grab the child—if anything went wrong, he’d bear serious responsibility.

“Hey! Come down from there!”

Standing up, he edged toward the window but dared not shout too loudly.

Still, the figure paid him no mind and moved closer to the most dangerous spot.

“Sister Shen!” Li Tianque called out desperately.

No reply came—the only sounds outside were from the kitchen, where the two women, the waitress and Shen Jiayun, were busy cooking, their clattering drowning out his voice.

His shout seemed only to spur the figure on—it teetered forward on the sill.

Panic seized Li Tianque. In a split second, he saw only two choices: rush to the window and try to save the child, or run out to alert Shen Jiayun.

Instinctively, Li Tianque dashed to the window, determined to grab the shadow.

But as he flung back the curtain, a cold chill shot down his scalp, and a cry broke from his throat:

“Oh my god—”

His scream finally reached Shen Jiayun, who hurried into the room. Seeing Li Tianque by the window, she asked in alarm:

“What’s… are you alright?”

Face pale, Li Tianque swallowed hard, pointing beneath the window:

“It’s… it’s over. Your son… he just jumped out the window!”

“What? Jumped out?” Shen Jiayun shrieked, rushing to the window and clutching the railing as she looked down…