Come on, What Kind of CEO Chases His Roommate Back to the Country? - Chapter 11

This kind of crisis was nothing new to Pei Song.

After years in the culinary world, he had long since learned how to handle unexpected situations. He immediately posted a video on social media, showcasing how he fused Chinese and German cuisine, innovating and refining traditional dishes.

At the same time, he invited diners on-site to share their honest opinions after tasting his food. His professional and rational response not only silenced the doubts but also earned him even more praise.

“I knew that photo was fake!”

“The chef’s creativity is amazing! It perfectly suits German tastes!”

“Now this is someone who truly understands food!”

By the next day, the rumor had collapsed on its own. Even the rival chef next door toned down his hostility, but the crisis was far from over.

On the third afternoon, a well-dressed middle-aged man appeared in front of Pei Song’s stall, accompanied by an assistant.

“Hello, I’m Hans Müller, a food critic from Gourmet magazine,” he introduced himself fluently in English, handing over a gold-embossed business card.

Pei Song took the card and greeted him politely. He was very familiar with this magazine. It held significant influence in Germany’s culinary scene.

However, something about the critic’s gaze unsettled him. Hans’s eyes scanned Pei Song’s workstation as if searching for a flaw. He ordered several signature dishes and specifically requested to watch the preparation process.

Throughout the cooking, he kept taking photos and whispering to his assistant.

When the dishes were served, he exaggerated his reactions to each bite, his gestures feeling deliberately dramatic.

Pei Song sensed something was off but could only go along with it.

Then, as Hans tasted the third dish, his face suddenly turned pale. Clutching his stomach, he collapsed onto a chair. “Oh my god… what is this… I feel terrible…”

His assistant immediately shouted, “Call an ambulance! There’s something wrong with the food!”

Panic erupted. A few other diners who had just finished their meals also began clutching their stomachs, groaning.

Somewhere in the crowd, a voice yelled, “His food is poisoned!” Like a spark in dry grass, the panic spread rapidly.

Within minutes, seven or eight media outlets swarmed the scene. Flashes blinded Pei Song as microphones were thrust in his face.

“Can you confirm the source of your ingredients?”

“Does your stall have proper certification?”

“Why are so many people experiencing food poisoning?”

Suppressing his anger, Pei Song calmly explained his ingredient sources and cooking process, but the skepticism only grew.

“How do we know you’re telling the truth?”

“Just another internet sensation, all hype and no skill!”

“How was an uncertified stall even allowed to participate?”

As customers in line started leaving, some even demanded refunds. Soon, health department officials arrived. However, they stated that full food testing would take 48 hours. Until results were available, the stall had to be temporarily shut down.

Pei Song watched as a seal was placed on his stall, his heart twisting in pain. This stall carried so much of his hard work. If it ended here…

Then, from the corner of his eye, he noticed a group of Chinese restaurant owners nearby, whispering among themselves, their eyes gleaming with schadenfreude.

One of them stood out, he was the owner of the largest Chinese restaurant near M University.

Just a few days ago, this same man had arrogantly declared, “These young people nowadays, all they care about is being internet-famous. What do they know about real culinary skills?”

As Pei Song studied those familiar faces, a thought suddenly struck him. He pulled out his phone and carefully reviewed the photos from when Hans entered his stall.

Sure enough, in the background of one of the pictures, those same Chinese restaurant owners were chatting cheerfully with Hans.

Even more suspicious, Hans’s assistant bore a striking resemblance to a staff member from one of those restaurants.

Just as Pei Song was about to report his findings to the authorities, a tall figure emerged from the crowd and walked up to him.

After listening to Pei Song’s analysis, Shi Yancheng’s expression darkened. “This isn’t simple. If they dared to pull something like this at a major food expo, they must be well-prepared.”

“Then what do we do?” Pei Song looked anxiously at his sealed stall.

“Don’t act rashly.” Shi Yancheng glanced around. “Keep explaining to the press and try to buy time. I’ll go investigate.”

Shi Yancheng made his way around the festival, keeping a close watch on the suspicious Chinese stalls. He soon noticed that Hans’s “assistant” kept going in and out of the staff rest area instead of helping at the booth.

In a large event like this, every stall was busy, no one should have time to leave repeatedly.

Shi Yancheng waited outside the rest area and soon saw several Chinese restaurant owners taking turns entering and leaving. Each visit was brief, as if they were exchanging something.

Most suspicious of all, Hans also appeared there regularly, always using the back entrance to avoid the event’s surveillance cameras.

Shi Yancheng noticed another strange detail: both Hans and his “assistant” wore watches that were set 15 minutes behind the correct time, clearly some kind of signal.

More importantly, parked near the rest area’s back entrance was a van.

The license plate matched a well-known Chinese restaurant’s delivery vehicle, but the model was entirely different.

All the clues pointed to a carefully orchestrated setup.

Shi Yancheng discreetly tailed the van to a Chinese restaurant. Through a small kitchen window, he overheard a conversation inside. It turned out these restaurant owners had long resented Pei Song, believing that this “internet chef” had stolen their business.

So, they staged this entire “food poisoning” scandal, hiring professional actors to play the critic and strategically planting accomplices in the crowd to fake being sick at the right moment.

Shi Yancheng hurried back to the expo and immediately requested all surveillance footage from the organizers. After reviewing the footage, they identified several suspicious individuals acting unusually around the time of the incident.

Meanwhile, the real Gourmet magazine called to clarify that they had never sent a critic named Hans Müller.

The police launched an investigation and soon uncovered a trove of incriminating evidence in the suspicious van.

The truth was clear, these old Chinese restaurant owners couldn’t stand how quickly Pei Song had outperformed them in just a few days, so they plotted to destroy him.

That evening, several individuals involved were taken in for questioning.

At a joint press conference, the police and health department publicly cleared Pei Song’s name. Rather than breaking him, this crisis had earned him even greater support. When his stall reopened, business boomed like never before.

On the final day of the festival, Shi Yancheng helped pack up the stall and casually asked, “Have you considered opening a restaurant? I know a few good locations with great foot traffic.”

Pei Song gazed at the neon lights in the distance and shook his head gently. “Thanks, but… I’ll be graduating soon. After that, I plan to go back home.”

Shi Yancheng paused. “Because of your family?”

“Yeah.” Pei Song stopped packing and sighed. “This incident made me realize my family’s situation might be worse than I thought. My parents need me.”

Shi Yancheng was silent for a moment before saying, “You’ve already proven your skills.”

“I know.” Pei Song smiled. “That’s exactly why I have to go back. Everything I’ve learned in Germany, wasn’t it all so I could help my family in the future?”

The night breeze blew past as Pei Song took a deep breath. “Here… maybe someday.”

Shi Yancheng studied his slightly hesitant profile, lost in thought.