Sure enough, when Zhang Chaohe rushed to the stove, he saw how quickly the staff had worked. Even the soup from stewing the duck was gone, and the large, shiny black iron pot was scrubbed clean, with not a single chili pepper left.
Zhang Chaohe flew into a rage: "Where are my ducks?!"
The other guests looked on with admiration at Zhang, who was always challenging the production team. They thought to themselves, "He truly lives up to his reputation as Zhang Baiwan, the law-breaking madman. He's got a real head on his shoulders, daring to confront the production team right off the bat!"
The production team calmly replied, "You were gone for too long, the duck got mushy, so we ate it for you."
He beckoned, and immediately a stagehand came up, carrying a fat duck in his left hand and another in his right, standing there like an eunuch delivering rewards to a minister in ancient times.
The director generously said, "We'll compensate you with two ducks!"
Lu Tao was about to happily accept it when he saw Little Zhang sneer and stomp his foot on the pile of firewood with a "smack," looking like a black goose demanding repayment. He pointed to the stove next to him, and then to Cheng Jixue, who was watching the show from the sidelines.
Cheng Jixue was taken aback, but immediately put on a proper smile in response.
Zhang Chaohe: "Do you know who made this stewed duck?"
The director, completely baffled, tentatively asked, "Is it... Cheng Jixue?"
Zhang Chaohe: "It's Cheng Jixue, the sous chef of a Michelin-starred restaurant!"
Everyone was shocked, not expecting that a master was right beside them—Cheng Jixue herself was basically immune to Zhang Da'e's moves, and even if the opponent attacked upside down now, Cheng Jixue could perfectly block his attack wave!
Cheng Jixue smiled slightly again, her smile enigmatic and profound, clearly the mark of a chef of high status.
Zhang Chaohe continued loudly, "How much do you think he can sell a single dish for? Do you think he can compensate us with just two ducks?"
Upon hearing this, and considering that it did indeed taste delicious, the director figured it must be true. He was about to suggest giving the guests an extra free-range chicken as compensation when Zhang Chaohe angrily retorted, "Shouldn't we also get a sauerkraut fish seasoning packet, curry cubes, and garlic chili sauce as compensation?"
Guests: Directors: That makes perfect sense, Mr. Zhang! That's a truly unique approach!
Both sides breathed a sigh of relief. The director felt it was harmless, the guests felt there was hope for the future, and everyone was very satisfied with the compensation outcome.
Cheng Jixue, on the other hand, won three brand-new seasoning packets with his amazing cooking skills and was praised by all the guests. After the cheers ended, he was immediately assigned to the stove to stir-fry Boletus luridus... Now the mushroom slices have turned completely blue-green and look very poisonous.
While Cheng Jixue was frantically stir-frying mushroom slices, Zhang Chaohe repeatedly emphasized, still shaken, that she should stir-fry them a little longer, since the little Malinois still lying on the steps was a cautionary tale!
Because the food was so delicious and everyone was starving after a long day, the food was devoured shortly after it was served.
Zhang Chaohe squatted on the steps outside the house, holding a bowl, lost in thought. The shrewd, cold, noble, and composed young master Zhang had vanished without a trace. He looked like an unemployed youth, with a blank expression.
The cameraman quietly approached and captured a few shots. Zhang Chaohe finished eating the rice in his bowl and suddenly stretched out the bowl to the cameraman—he had just stretched out whatever he had in his hand while he was in a daze, and he didn't expect to startle the cameraman.
The cameraman hesitated for a moment, patted his pocket, took out a shiny silver one-yuan coin, and gently placed it into the bowl that Mr. Zhang was extending.
The air seemed to freeze.
Zhang Chaohe looked at the one-yuan coin in the bowl in disbelief—was this how Old Master Ji felt when he scanned a QR code to give him 500 yuan back then?
The cameraman was awkwardly trying to pick up the one-yuan coin when he saw Mr. Zhang suddenly stand up, grab the coin still covered in the oil from the stir-fried mushrooms, rush to the tap to wash it, and excitedly burst into the house—"I'm rich!"
Zhao Xinyue, who was right at the outermost edge of the courtyard, was stunned for a moment: ?
There stood Mr. Zhang, the cool CEO whose Weibo raffles start at a million yuan, holding up a one-yuan coin and sharing his joy with everyone in the room.
Zhao Xinyue: A plucked phoenix is no better than a chicken. Two days ago, if anyone had told her that Jiasheng's president, Xiao Zhang, would always be dancing with a one-yuan coin in his hand, she would have thought that person had lost their mind.
However, when she saw the scene with her own eyes, she didn't seem very surprised.
Huh? Isn't this the kind of crazy image that Little Zhang should have?
Lu Tao couldn't stand seeing Mr. Zhang throwing his image around like that, so he leaned over and whispered, "Mr. Zhang... please tone it down a bit, the production team will include you in the final cut!"
You probably don't want to be the only comedic CEO in the Zhang Group, do you?!
Upon hearing this, Xiao Zhang seemed to regain some of his senses. Clutching the coin in his hand, he ran to the kitchen to show off to Cheng Jixue, who was cleaning a bucket of small snails: "I have a dollar!"
In a variety show where guests couldn't scrape together a single penny from every pocket in the room, he was already incredibly wealthy!
Cheng Jixue immediately put down the wire brush she was using to clean the snails and praised him earnestly, "Great job!"
Both of them spoke softly, with a kind of joyful whispering in public. Zhang Chaohe stared at the bucket in front of him, which seemed to be full of small seashells that needed to be cleaned, then suddenly rolled up his sleeves and reached his hands into the bucket of seashells: "I'll clean them with you, and then we..."
The next second, their hands were intimately clasped in the bucket of water—it was Zhang Chaohe who unilaterally grabbed Cheng Jixue's hand!
Caught off guard, Zhang Chaohe was so startled by holding hands with Cheng Jixue that he almost fell to the ground... Hearing the commotion, Xiao Chen craned his neck and asked, "What's wrong, Xiao Cheng?"
Cheng Jixue is now like a giant panda-level protected animal in the group. Team leader Lu Tao can be lost, special guest Xiao Zhang can be lost—but not even a single hair of Cheng Jixue's can be lost!!
Zhang Chaohe was about to say it was nothing when Cheng Jixue suddenly grabbed his hand and pulled him back to a squatting position. Taking advantage of Zhang Chaohe's reluctance to shout and the cameraman's angle seemingly obscuring the water bucket, Cheng Jixue suddenly and flirtatiously squeezed the heel of Zhang Chaohe's palm—
The underwater sense of touch was so sensitive that it felt as if a small fish had slipped through his fingers.
Zhang Chaohe stared wide-eyed in disbelief, probably unable to believe that Cheng Jixue could do such a thing. He jumped up abruptly, glared fiercely at Cheng Jixue for a moment, then angrily shook the water droplets off his hands and rushed towards the door—
The cameraman suddenly perked up and rushed forward to follow!
Cheng Jixue secretly curled the corners of her mouth and continued to seriously brush her little snail shells, while Xiao Chen next to her asked, puzzled, "What's wrong?"
Cheng Jixue smiled at her, looking somewhat reserved, "Perhaps Mr. Zhang is a little afraid of live snails." He then raised his voice and asked, "Mr. Zhang, where are you going?"
Zhang Chaohe was still fuming from being teased—how could he be teased by Cheng Jixue? This was so beneath his dignity as a domineering CEO!
Upon hearing Cheng Jixue's question, Zhang Chaohe sneered, "Buy ice cream!"
He really wanted to buy an ice cream.
On my way back from the veterinarian's house, I saw a small shop on the street with a large freezer in front of it, which looked very appetizing.
Zhang Chaohe, the wealthy man, casually opened the freezer door, holding the coin in his hand, and began to browse. Since he only had one yuan, he deliberately chose a cookie with unassuming packaging.
The shopkeeper glanced at the popsicle in his hand and said in a lazy tone, "Eight yuan."
Zhang Chaohe couldn't believe it: ...
He then changed to an ice cream with a particularly unattractive plastic wrapper, and this time the shopkeeper told him, "Four yuan."
As I said before, Mr. Zhang, a domineering CEO who wins millions in lotteries, is now staring blankly at a freezer in the countryside because he can't afford ice cream.
The cameraman was laughing so hard his face was cramping, and he tried hard not to laugh out loud—then Xiao Zhang managed to ask with difficulty, "So, do you have any ice cream for one yuan?"
I never imagined that the ice cream assassin could try to kill me at any moment!
Zhang Chaohe didn't realize that it was actually because he was too poor... that even a random ice cream from the freezer could be used to assassinate him.
The shopkeeper glanced at him, probably finding it hard to believe that this well-dressed young man would only buy a dollar's worth of ice cream. He pointed to the wholesale-style ice cream next to him, wrapped in oil paper and stacked in a transparent plastic bag: "That one, 50 cents each, you can buy two."
Thank you, Ice Cream Man! Zhang Chaohe never expected that there would still be such a good deal of ice cream for 50 cents in this day and age. He quickly paid and specially chose two with relatively intact and pretty wrappers. He sat down on the steps outside as if he knew the way well.
He also handed one to the cameraman.
The older brother was flattered, but for the best shooting angle, he still chose to stand opposite Mr. Zhang, eating and taking pictures at the same time. Mr. Zhang unwrapped the oil paper, tentatively took a bite, and was stunned for a moment, staring incredulously at the seemingly ordinary ice cream—then took another bite!
It looks ugly, but it tastes delicious!!
Zhang Chaohe immediately rushed back to the convenience store and asked the owner which factory made the ice cream. The owner seemed puzzled: "It's local ice cream. It's made with milk, eggs, and the like. Of course it tastes good!"
Zhang Chaohe was utterly shocked—this delicious, high-quality ice cream only cost 50 cents a stick, while the one next to it cost eight dollars a stick!
How dare you!
Zhang Chaohe returned to the film set with an ice cream stick in his mouth and specifically asked the director if he could make a phone call to his assistant. The director initially wanted to refuse, but fearing that Mr. Zhang might have something important to discuss at the company, he still asked, "Is it something important?"
Zhang Chaohe said in a deep voice, "Yes... I'm going to start regulating the ice cream market!"
director:……
Under the watchful eye of the production team, Zhang Chaohe briefly retrieved his phone and called Assistant Chen. Assistant Chen was petting a cat, thinking to himself that he had finally escaped his crazy boss for the time being... The next second, the phone rang incessantly.
It was his mentally ill boss.
With a heavy heart, Assistant Chen answered the phone: "Hello, Mr. Zhang, you..."
“Book the next flight right now,” Zhang Chaohe said, his tone cold but barely concealing his excitement. “Then come to this address, and bring a copy of the acquisition contract… and a lawyer too.”
Assistant Chen secretly pinched his thigh—was President Zhang recording a program? Why did he sound like he was going to buy up the entire village?
Gu Yunhe County doesn't deserve this much punishment!
"Has something happened?" Assistant Chen asked tentatively.
“I want to acquire an ice cream factory.” On the other end of the phone, Mr. Zhang’s voice was incredibly calm, showing no trace of the man who had only one dollar in his pocket just minutes before.
Assistant Chen typed out several question marks in confusion: ?
Why would you go to a poor county to acquire an ice cream factory just to record a TV show?
After hanging up the phone, Zhang Chaohe, with the empty popsicle stick still in his mouth, strolled back to the courtyard. He went straight to the kitchen, where Cheng Jixue had just finished processing the small snails and was rinsing them with cool well water before setting them aside to make snail rice noodles without pickled bamboo shoots for breakfast the next morning.
Zhang Chaohe defiantly held up the popsicle stick in front of him: "See? I just ate some popsicle."
Cheng Jixue tilted her head, smiled at him good-naturedly, and started making potato noodles.
Zhang Chaohe was like a naughty child pestering his parents to cook at home, relentlessly chasing after them: "It's delicious."
Cheng Jixue finally gave him a proper look—then pointed her wet fingertip at Zhang Chaohe's mouth, and continued tidying up the potato noodles.
Zhang Chaohe subconsciously touched the corner of his mouth... it felt a little sticky, so he rolled it with the tip of his tongue.
Ah, ice cream flavor—Holy crap!
So he just now, with that arrogant look on his face, went around saying "I want to buy the ice cream factory" in front of the production crew?!
Zhang Chaohe clutched his head in anguish—he couldn't imagine what the production team had been thinking.
My domineering CEO aura.
My lifelong reputation.
My elite aura.
They all died from a single drop of ice cream stain.
It seemed that Zhang Chaohe himself was also as if he were dead.
Until he went to bed at night, Zhang Chaohe made up his quilt and lay down peacefully, like a cold and heartless corpse—he dared not imagine how many people would laugh at him after the full episode aired.
He closed his eyes and drifted peacefully into sleep.
However, Cheng Jixue, standing beside him, said that it was the first time the two of them had shared a bed—or rather, a large dormitory-style bed—and Zhang Chaohe fell asleep the moment he closed his eyes, without a trace of shyness or anticipation.
It felt as if a stone was lying next to me.
Cheng Jixue wondered in confusion: Do I have absolutely no charm in his eyes? When we share a bed, does he prefer to close his eyes rather than look at me?
Am I a stone or is he a stone?
Cheng Jixue was completely baffled. He had originally planned to do something sneaky, but Zhang Chaohe had already started breathing steadily and was fast asleep.