Live Streaming Food Stall… But in Dog-Blooded Novels – CH116

Chapter 116

Ye Qingquan was still going strong:

“People like you—privileged elites who think their stinking money makes them special—aren’t worthy of raising Lanlan!” Ye Qingquan’s chest heaved violently. “If you want to eat Lanlan’s roast duck, then get in line like everyone else! Stop looking for shortcuts—you think you deserve any? What even are you?!!!”

“You’d casually offer to raise a child just for a bite of roast duck? Do you have any idea how hard parenting is? Can you handle that responsibility? Do you know how to change diapers, push a stroller, or soothe a crying baby? Do you know the guilt and terror of losing your child?”

“No, you don’t know any of it.”

—”Because you’re all just a bunch of incompetent, arrogant morons!”

BOOM.

Like a bomb detonating in the middle of a crowd.

The moment Ye Qingquan finished speaking, the food stall fell into dead silence.

Many had been pretending to chat with friends and family while secretly eavesdropping—just not too obviously.

But now, they couldn’t keep up the act.

Within a ten-meter radius of Ye Qingquan, all conversation ceased as stunned eyes turned toward him.

…As the famously tragic “stand-in white lotus” of secret baby romance novels, Ye Qingquan was the classic weak, delicate bottom archetype popular in early dogblood fiction.

This meant that throughout Genius Baby: Three and a Half Years Old, the original author described him with endless adjectives like “gentle,” “quiet,” “beautifully refined,” and “soft-spoken.”

That had been everyone’s impression of him too.

Especially after having a child, Ye Qingquan became even more patient, even softer—his voice tender, his demeanor endlessly accommodating, as if anyone could walk all over him.

In the original novel, it was precisely this personality that made the domineering, elegant Huo Ye gradually fall for him, finding warmth and family by his side, culminating in a Cinderella-style happy ending.

But the Ye Qingquan before them now was completely different.

Perhaps remembering the time Lanlan went missing at the market—even though it ended safely, the guilt still tormented him daily, the fear of what could have happened haunting him.

So a large part of this outburst was directed at himself, too.

Was he truly ready to be a parent? Did he deserve to raise Lanlan?

…But the one thing he knew was that no matter how unworthy he might be, he was still infinitely more qualified than these people!

Now, with his full aura unleashed, eyes red and hair disheveled, Ye Qingquan’s words were sharp and unrelenting. The look he gave Huo Ye was almost scornful, his beautiful face twisted with fury—yet it made him seem…

Powerful.

No one doubted that on Ye Qingquan’s turf, no one would ever take advantage of him or Lanlan again.

If not for Huo Ran blocking the way, Ye Qingquan might have actually lunged to throttle Huo Ye while screaming in his face.

Old Madam Huo, Huo Ye, and Huo Ran were utterly speechless. Huo Ran even instinctively hid behind his mother, trembling slightly.

Meanwhile, Mu Mingqiu stood to the side, shaking.

…Mu Mingqiu clutched his face, whole body quivering as he stared at Ye Qingquan’s flushed, furious expression—heart eyes practically sparkling in his gaze.

“Oh no, you’re so right—I’m completely in love now,” Mu Mingqiu somehow produced a bouquet of bright red roses and pulled out that massive diamond ring again, dropping to one knee. “Please, marry me! I could never love anyone else in this lifetime!”

Ye Qingquan: “…”

Everyone else: “…………”

There was clearly something wrong with Mu Mingqiu’s wiring.

He just enjoys being verbally abused, doesn’t he?!

The onlookers screamed internally.

At the roast duck stall, the line continued moving forward.

Little Boss Lan, busy packing orders up front, seemed entirely unaffected by the drama, fully immersed in the joyful process of chopping, slicing, and serving customers.

…As Ye Qingquan stepped forward, the kneeling Mu Mingqiu shuffled along with him, holding up the ring with passionate determination.

Not to be outdone, the three Huos—silent and ashamed—also inched forward.

Thus, this bizarre group advanced step by step under the crowd’s gossipy stares.

Until—

It was Ye Qingquan’s turn in line.

“Daddy, half a duck as usual?” The little boy expertly lifted a roast duck from the oven, its crispy skin still sizzling as oil dripped down. “Sliced and packed, same as always?”

Facing Lanlan, Ye Qingquan immediately switched to a different demeanor.

His eyes softened instantly, and his voice became gentle again: “Yes, Lanlan. You’ve worked hard—are you sure you don’t need Daddy’s help?”

Even under the overwhelming temptation of roast duck, Ye Qingquan could keep his focus entirely on the child, not the food.

…This level of self-control was truly unmatched.

Hearing Ye Qingquan’s question, the little boy shook his head and reiterated: “The kindergarten teacher said parents aren’t allowed to help!”

Truthfully, though Ye Qingquan had offered to assist every day, Jian Yunlan didn’t dare let him interfere during actual stall operations.

Running a street food stall was no joke.

Bringing in an amateur would slow things down, and if something went wrong, what then?

With swift, practiced motions, the boy cleaved the duck in half, setting one portion aside while slicing the other into thin, tender pieces, arranging them like flower petals in a takeout box.

Soon, half a roast duck was neatly packed.

Ye Qingquan swallowed hard as he accepted the box.

It had been over half a day since his last taste of roast duck.

Close call—almost starved to death!

…The silent crowd finally noticed something odd.

Old Madam Huo asked, incredulous:

“Qingquan, why… are you in line?”

At this, not only Huo Ran and Huo Ye, but even Mu Mingqiu—still holding up the ring—froze in shock.

Right, why was Ye Qingquan queuing?

—As Lanlan’s father, living under the same roof, couldn’t Ye Qingquan just ask for roast duck whenever he wanted? Surely Lanlan wouldn’t refuse him?

They’d all envied Ye Qingquan, even schemed to replace him as Lanlan’s guardian, imagining him as the lucky one feasting on unlimited roast duck daily.

But the problem was…

Ye Qingquan had never asked.

Carrying his takeout box, Ye Qingquan walked away quietly, but his gaze never left Lanlan, who was still hard at work—just as it had been since the boy’s first stall day.

“I know Lanlan wouldn’t refuse if I asked,” Ye Qingquan smiled. “But why would I?”

From the very first day Lanlan set up his stall, Ye Qingquan had realized: Lanlan genuinely loved this. Loved the hustle and bustle, loved watching customers leave happy and satisfied, loved seeing their delighted smiles…

With Lanlan’s energy, twenty ducks a day was the limit.

Every single duck should go to an eager customer at the stall.

As a father, how could Ye Qingquan bear to rob Lanlan of that joy?

Even when desperate for a taste, Ye Qingquan only bought half a duck—leaving the rest for more customers.

At home, they were father and son. But at the stall, one was a busy, happy vendor; the other, just another customer in line. That was all.

…The three Huos and Mu Mingqiu listened, thunderstruck.

Ye Qingquan walked away.

None of them chased after him.

After a long silence…

Old Madam Huo laughed bitterly:

“He’s right. We really are just customers who should wait in line like everyone else.”

To live this long only to be schooled by a younger generation—how embarrassing.

With that, she stopped looking at her sons and joined the endless queue.

Moments later.

Huo Ye and Huo Ran lowered their heads and silently stepped into line.

Last was Mu Mingqiu.

None of them spoke, all aware that joining the line now likely meant missing out on roast duck entirely.

But… what if?

Exchanging glances, they smiled wryly.

For some reason, they felt inexplicably warm.

Wrapped in the comforting embrace of ordinary human life.

*

Ye Qingquan found a spot near the stall with a clear view of Lanlan and sat cross-legged on the ground, uncaring of the dirt.

He dipped a slice of duck in sauce, wrapped it with cucumber and scallions in a pancake, and took a bite—

“Delicious!” His eyes instantly lit up.

The thin, chewy pancake held juicy, piping-hot duck meat. Paired with crispy, glistening skin and the sweet-sour plum sauce, the flavors were irresistible.

Night had fully fallen.

Under a streetlamp, Ye Qingquan watched the little boy at the stall from afar.

Light gently outlined his profile, his lips curved in a faint smile—yet somehow, that silhouetted figure seemed…

Lonely.

Ye Qingquan’s life had always been this way.

Born alone, raised alone, meeting someone he loved in a foreign land only for it to end in nothing, then taking his child to wander even farther.

Now that small life he’d nurtured had found its own light, leaving him to watch from a distance, caring, blessing.

Watching that light drift further away.

The crowd at the stall laughed and chattered—Auntie Wang with her family, Old Man Li joking with neighbors—their noise carrying faintly but unable to pierce the invisible walls around him.

Ye Qingquan looked down with a quiet laugh.

He took another bite.

“So good,” he murmured, though his mouth tasted oddly bitter. “Lanlan’s roast duck is the best in the world.”

Until—

“Let’s share the other half together.”

A child’s clear voice rang beside him.