"Hehe..." The auntie chuckled, "Young man, you just don't understand, do you? Japanese products are safe and reliable, and they meet international standards. The domestic stuff is all junk. Toothpaste with excess fluoride, heavy metals over the limit. Shower gel is just a concoction of chemicals. Not to mention shampoo. And look at this baby formula, the same brand, Nuo You Neng, is several hundred yuan domestically, but look, it's only a little over one hundred CNY in Japan."

"Domestic milk powder is edible too," Lin Chuan said anxiously.

"Edible?" The auntie's face darkened as she said, "How many children did Sanlu poison to death? Also, do you know what the most popular insult in the country is now?"

"What is it?" Lin Chuan looked puzzled.

"Now, there's a new line for insulting people in the country, 'You must have been raised on Sanlu milk powder, your whole family must have grown up on Sanlu milk powder!'" The old lady chuckled, then spoke with a worried face, "Young man, it's not that us old folks worship foreign things or refuse to use domestic products. It's that our national enterprises are just so unimpressive. Especially with the national family planning policy, we only have one grandson, we don't want any accidents to happen to him..."

The auntie kept talking non-stop; Lin Chuan suddenly understood.

It wasn't that they were worshipping foreign things or fawning over foreigners but because the national enterprises were really too disappointing, and the domestic regulatory agencies did nothing. That's why people would rather travel thousands of miles to snap up foreign products than buy those economically affordable domestic products.

A helplessness, along with a touch of desolation, surfaced on Lin Chuan's face.

This is the sorrow of the country, and also the sorrow of the nation. A nation with a population of 1.3 billion can't produce things that satisfy its own people. A country with fifty-six ethnic groups, yet not one national enterprise can truly convince and reassure its nationals.

Lin Chuan's mind was in some disarray; thinking too much about some things could have a huge impact on oneself. Lin Chuan turned and walked away, then crossed the border with ease.

Yutian Airport had convenient transportation, with an accessible rail system and taxis on standby 24 hours a day.

As Lin Chuan stepped out of the airport, a familiar yet strange voice came, "Mr. Lin Chuan."

Lin Chuan was puzzled, could it be that there was someone to meet him for this mission?

Curious, Lin Chuan turned his head, and his eyes immediately widened. Behind him stood a tall beauty, in a long deep blue dress that reached her ankles, shouldering a large bag, wavy chestnut curls framing her face, beaming with a bright smile.

"Qingzi?!" Lin Chuan exclaimed with joy.

He never expected that the first person he would see after getting off the plane would be Qingzi, which felt like a warm sun in the cold winter, like a gush of sweet water in the desert. Suddenly, Lin Chuan's feelings for Qingzi escalated infinitely. The appearance of someone who had faded from memory, at a critical moment when you are alone in a foreign land, felt just like meeting your dearest person.

Qingzi ran towards Lin Chuan at top speed, and when she reached him, she tossed her canvas bag onto the ground and then plunged into Lin Chuan's arms. Lin Chuan held Qingzi tightly as the two excitedly hugged each other outside the airport.

"Mr. Lin Chuan, we've finally met," Qingzi said excitedly. "I thought we would never see each other again."

"Yes, we finally meet again," Lin Chuan nodded.

"That's great," Qingzi said with excitement.

"By the way, how did you know I'd come to Tokyo?" Lin Chuan asked curiously.

"Me..." Qingzi giggled and said, "I have my own intelligence sources."

"Is it the Zhu Corporation's intelligence?" Lin Chuan asked.

"Don't worry, the heads of the Corporation don't know about your trip to Tokyo," Qingzi giggled and then said, "Only I knew about it. Because I am the one in charge of intelligence for Zhu Corporation. Hehe..."

"I see," Lin Chuan immediately understood.

"Come with me," Qingzi said, pulling Lin Chuan's hand.

Lin Chuan followed Qingzi into the underground parking lot. Qingzi drove a white Toyota Prado. The car was big and dominating, a vehicle typically driven by men, but Qingzi handled it with assertiveness.

After getting into the car, Qingzi cast a flirtatious look at Lin Chuan.

Lin Chuan smiled and said, "You must know why I've come this time, right?"

"I know!" Qingzi nodded.

"And you're not stopping me?" Lin Chuan asked with curiosity."Why would I stop you?" Qingzi giggled, saying, "My connection with the Yamaguchi Group isn't that close, and I don't have much dealings with them. Not only will I not stop you, but I'll even help you!"

"Then why would you help me?" Lin Chuan asked.

"Because you're my man," Qingzi's face turned slightly red.

Lin Chuan was taken aback.

At this moment, the car quickly left the parking lot and charged straight towards the exterior. The speed was very fast.

Tokyo's nightscape is beautiful. Weaving through the city's expressways, cruising over the elevated highways. The beautiful night view is captivating. This wasn't Lin Chuan's first time in Tokyo, but it was the first time he admired Tokyo's beauty with such a delightful mood.

The beautiful scenery and breathtaking skyscrapers. Although Tokyo is the world's most crowded metropolis, the transportation here is very convenient. With the developed subway system and the fast highways, cars zoom through on the viaducts.

About half an hour later, the car came down from the elevated highway and then sped along the road. Finally, it turned into a narrow alley, directly passing through the bustling Tokyo metropolis, and surprisingly entered a traditional Japanese-style courtyard farm cottage.

Lin Chuan found it hard to believe that behind this bustling international metropolis, there was such a retro Japanese courtyard hidden away.

"Is this your home?" Lin Chuan asked curiously.

"Yeah!" Qingzi nodded, saying, "I bought this house a few years ago. I don't like living in tall buildings; I prefer things that are more back-to-basics. So, I chose to buy a courtyard like this. I like listening to the crickets at night, and the sound of frogs. I don't like the noise of cars whizzing by and the roaring of the monorail."

"It seems we're quite alike," Lin Chuan smiled.

After parking the car in the garage, Qingzi pulled Lin Chuan towards the small courtyard.

This was a uniquely charming courtyard, a row of hedges enclosed a small yard filled with fresh flowers and a large tree, under which lay a marble table and three stone stump stools. Qingzi excitedly opened the wooden gate of the courtyard and walked in.

Japanese courtyards are very distinctive, all made of wood constructions, and the whole house is almost suspended, with five steps leading up, after which Qingzi took off her shoes and walked in. Lin Chuan also removed his shoes and followed.

After entering, Qingzi turned on the lights. With the light on, Lin Chuan got a clearer view of the surroundings.

At the entrance was a corridor, Qingzi pushed open the wooden doors in the middle, which slid left and right. Inside was all tatami. A small wooden table, around which were several cushions. After entering, Qingzi immediately put down her bag and said, "Lin Chuan, you must be hungry. I'm going to cook you a bowl of ramen."

"Okay," Lin Chuan nodded.

Qingzi immediately put down what she was doing, tied her flowing hair into a ponytail, and turned to the kitchen.

Lin Chuan sat alone in the hall, curiously surveying his surroundings. A row of bookshelves, a few masks hung on the wall. There were also three paintings of ladies. All were typical of the Japanese style. They looked very heartwarming. One can imagine that buying a courtyard like this in a bustling city like Tokyo would probably be far more expensive than a villa, just like buying a traditional courtyard-style residence in Beijing. The prices would be astonishing.

Japanese people are said to be meticulous with their finances because their land area is small, hence their houses are also small. Plus, their storage tools are very rich and varied, with functionalities so extensive it's unbelievable.

However, Lin Chuan did not find any such multifunctional storage tools in Qingzi's house. The items here were all very simple.

While Lin Chuan was curiously exploring the house, Qingzi came in from outside, holding a bowl of ramen, and smiled, "Lin Chuan, this is the ramen I made with my own hands. Try it and see if it's good."

Lin Chuan smiled, "Okay, I'll give it a try."

A specialty of Japan, ramen has become internationally recognized. Ramen is a type of fast food. Japanese people always pay great attention to efficiency, so they save a lot of time when eating. Therefore, ramen has become widely popular.

The ancient Japanese living environment, tatami style. The dining table is just a raised table. Qingzi sat opposite Lin Chuan, with her hands propping her cheeks, smiling sweetly at him. A happy smile appeared on her face. For Qingzi, being able to let the man she loves eat the ramen she made was already a very happy thing.

Lin Chuan looked at the bowl of ramen; the fragrance alone was very appealing, a delicious bowl of ramen sprinkled with finely chopped green onions and topped with two marinated eggs. At first glance, it looked very appetizing. Lin Chuan suddenly felt hungry.

He tried a bite with his chopsticks; the taste was very good, even more authentic than the Wei Qian Ramen Restaurant's flavor.

"Not bad," Lin Chuan praised, "Did you make this ramen yourself? Are you sure you didn't get takeout from somewhere else?"

"Of course, I made it myself." Qingzi squinted her eyes, her smile seemed to radiate from the depths of her heart. She curiously asked, "How is it, does it taste good?"

"Of course, it's delicious." Lin Chuan immediately nodded. Initially, he was just trying the flavor because for an assassin like Qingzi, they are skilled in killing, not in cooking. Miss Lan was a perfect example, that girl's cooking could poison someone to death.

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