The Reviled God of Cooking Tries to Slack Off - Chapter 35

He had a vague idea before, but this time, after the ham sauce was released, the idea became clearer.

The comments were full of one question: “So, where’s the link?”

When An Xiaoping encountered a problem he couldn’t figure out, of course he went to Jiang Tingzhou first.

After listening, Jiang Tingzhou gave straightforward advice: “If you don’t have one, just open an online store yourself. Then post the store address in the comments. Do you have enough money for that?”

They weren’t doing livestream sales yet, but they could get ahead of the curve.

“Brother, don’t worry, I’m rich,” An Xiaoping said proudly. “I just got 100,000 yuan today!”

His real question was: “Will this really work?”

“How do you know if you don’t try?” Jiang Tingzhou said. “If you can’t manage it alone, ask your roommates if they want to do it together. Your Chinese Language and Literature department doesn’t have a full course load this semester, right?”

If it wasn’t for Jiang Tingzhou, An Xiaoping wouldn’t have dared to open a store suddenly. But as soon as Jiang Tingzhou said it, he got the courage.

After hanging up, he told his roommates, “Let’s open a store!”

Liu Chang said, “Huh? What? Your mind is moving too fast. I can’t keep up.”

Didn’t they just finish eating? How did it suddenly turn into opening a store?

An Xiaoping repeated Jiang Tingzhou’s advice and said, “Anyway, my brother’s words are definitely right. I’ll pay for the initial costs. If there’s a loss, I’ll take responsibility since it was my idea. If there’s profit, I’ll give everyone 20%. How about that?”

No one objected to An Xiaoping taking a double share. He paid the money and managed the account, while others contributed effort. It was a generous split.

“I think this is feasible,” said Ma Jialiang. “Remember when we filmed the old sugar factory’s candy? People are still asking about that. I think we should start by selling that. Better we make the money than let someone else do it.”

Wu Jianghe added, “I think it’s doable. Although graduation is still far, everyone knows the pay in Chinese Language jobs is low. If we can earn some money while in college, it will be easier to find a job later.”

Liu Chang said, “Then count me in.”

They weren’t thinking that far ahead—they just wanted to start a small business that might earn them one or two thousand yuan a month for living expenses. After all, just because people liked watching the videos didn’t mean they would spend real money.

But because their thinking was simple, they acted quickly. An Xiaoping immediately got to work.

His roommates looked awkward on video and couldn’t even come up with good food-related vocabulary when something tasted good, but they weren’t stupid. Anyone who could get into Dongjiang University had capability.

The four of them quickly put their heads together and, by that afternoon, had all the documents ready to apply for an online store.

At home, Jiang Tingzhou planted new seeds. Thanks to Zhou Lifen’s breeding method, the seeds sprouted quickly after being soaked.

Just as An Xiaoping finished his call, Jiang Tingzhou received another call from Li Shuyan.

The two of them had reconnected. No matter how Jiang Tingzhou emphasized that the past was the past, the fact remained that they had both changed. Their circles, their busyness, and their priorities were completely different now. No matter what, they could never go back to how things used to be.

But Li Shuyan didn’t listen.

“I know what you’re thinking—you always feel like you’re unlucky and that you bring misfortune to people around you. But that’s not true,” Li Shuyan said. “Tingzhou, I’ll be honest. When I first saw you after I came back, I was worried. But when I saw how you handled Zhou Lifen, I realized you don’t need anyone’s pity. I just hope you can live a good life.”

Jiang Tingzhou replied, “I really am doing well now. You saw it—didn’t we already solve the Zhou family’s problems? I’m hanging up. I need to plant vegetables.”

Li Shuyan said, “Hey, wait, don’t you have anything else to say to me?”

Jiang Tingzhou was silent for a moment, then said formally, “Choose the sugar factory. Don’t listen to what Jang Li said—go with the sugar factory project.”

Li Shuyan was stunned.

This was one of the few suggestions Jiang Tingzhou could still offer her after his rebirth. Choosing the sugar factory—even from a financial perspective—was the better option, even if the school district land looked more glamorous.

That project had government support and existing infrastructure. Cultural and creative parks were popular, and the retro nostalgia trend would attract influencers and tourists. In the long run, even if the profits were small, it was one of the few slow-but-sure money-makers in old town redevelopment, with clear upfront benefits.

By comparison, the commercial housing land currently being fought over was overpriced. By the time construction finished, the real estate market would already be in decline.

Later on, Yongqing No. 2 Middle School would unexpectedly announce plans to build a new campus. The junior high would move entirely, and the high school would become fully residential, making the so-called “school district housing” even more unattractive.

Now, Jiang Tingzhou was a retired, unemployed vagrant. His advice might not have sounded convincing, but he still spoke up.

This was the only suggestion he could offer.

There was one more thing—he wanted to tell Li Shuyan not to get married.

In his past life, she married Jang Li. It seemed like a happy marriage at first, but she eventually insisted on a divorce. It was a huge scandal and ended badly. No one knew what had gone so wrong.

Now that they had studied abroad together, it wasn’t like in high school where they looked down on each other. But the result still turned out the same, and Jiang Tingzhou wasn’t sure whether he could already see the warning signs.

“And one more thing,” he said. “Be careful of Jang Li.”

Li Shuyan was silent for a moment, then said, “I know. As for the sugar factory project, I’ll have to consider the opinions of others in the company, but I’ll try to fight for it. Tingzhou, I really hope we can still be friends like before. If you want to do anything in the future, you don’t have to go back to the Jiang family, nor be at odds with the Lu family—you can come to me. I’ll pay you triple.”

Jiang Tingzhou laughed bitterly, “You and Li Xu really are family. He said that too, but I really don’t want to work anymore.”

“It’s different with me,” Li Shuyan said. “Yesterday I saw that you had thought of many solutions long ago. Back in school, I always said you were smart—you just lacked a solid foundation, so your grades couldn’t catch up. You’re perfect for business. If you come work with me, name any price. I’ll go bankrupt if I have to, just to hire you. Alas, at that time, I thought maybe one day you, Xiaoping, and I would become business partners.”

Jiang Tingzhou, who was once the brilliant but exhausted CEO of Jiang Foods, said, “That’s impossible.”

He would never die from overwork again.

“It’s just one option,” Li Shuyan said. “If you need anything, come to me. By the way, the food at your house is really delicious. It’s the best I’ve ever had.”

The half day she spent in Jiang Tingzhou’s yard, now looking back, was the most relaxing half day she’d had recently. She quarreled with friends and then sat there to eat. No wonder Tian Hui had said that the place had a calming energy.

She felt at peace, but someone else was worried.

After seeing An Xiaoping’s video, Lu Jiahe held out some hope at first, thinking: ham sauce probably wasn’t that easy to sell, right?

But he grew uneasy. After the afternoon meeting, he called Secretary Song three times but couldn’t get through.

He knew something was wrong.

Lu Jiahe didn’t sleep well that night. At work the next day, his assistant brought surprising news—Secretary Song, who had worked with him for a long time, was transferred away.

This confidant, who had been with Lu Baiyu for a long time, was suddenly transferred—a big fall from grace. She used to wield significant influence in the company and had inevitably made enemies. Now, from a prestigious post to a sudden transfer, it was a steep and humiliating fall. Probably worse than being fired outright.

The secretariat quickly replaced the post without any transition period.

Lu Jiahe asked, “Why?”

He clenched his fists and had a vague feeling he already knew the answer.

“It’s said he was incompetent,” his assistant said sympathetically. “It was so sudden.”

Living with the emperor was like living with a tiger.

Working near Lu Baiyu might have offered prestige and pay, but it wasn’t a comfortable place to be. Moreover, Secretary Song had been close to receiving more stock options soon—but now she lost everything. She suffered a massive loss. No one knew how she angered the boss.

After hearing this, Lu Jiahe realized that what he and Secretary Song had done in secret could no longer be hidden.

He got out of the car silently. When he entered the elevator, he saw the latest video of Lu Baiyu on the display screen by the door.

It was the end of the spring recruitment. Lu Baiyu, representing Lu Group, gave a speech at top domestic universities. He received thunderous applause, facing the students directly. His perfect face held a faint smile, still friendly.

The seminar wasn’t rehearsed. Some college students asked sharp, unrestrained questions. Lu Baiyu stayed calm and gave humble answers that won applause.

“… In short, I welcome everyone to the big family of Lu Group,” he said. “I believe the group will continue to provide more development opportunities, and I am willing to grow with you.”

He really could offer opportunities.

Rumor had it that the new replacement for Secretary Song had only recently joined—young and obedient, wouldn’t speak out of turn, and would never dare do anything behind Lu Baiyu’s back.

Watching that calm, smiling face in the video, Lu Jiahe couldn’t stop trembling inside.

Then the elevator door opened, and the real Lu Baiyu stood in front of him.

Lu Jiahe was so frightened his heart almost stopped.

After a few seconds, he staggered out of the elevator like a lost soul.

“Brother…” He spoke with a trembling voice, forcing a smile, “W-when did you get back?”

The curve of Lu Baiyu’s smile was exactly the same as in the video, but the meaning was very different. He said, “Just now. Jiahe, do you have anything to tell me?”

Lu Jiahe said, “Secretary Song… Secretary Song, she…”

“She’s overstepped and grown arrogant, thinking too highly of herself,” Lu Baiyu said. “Replacing her was necessary—Isn’t it right for a newcomer to rise?”

Lu Jiahe sweated profusely. Desperate, he babbled, “After all, she has worked in the Lu family a long time. She also worked with Father for years. Even if she hasn’t achieved much, she worked hard…”

“Precisely because of that, she became bolder. Enough. I’ll handle Secretary Song myself. Even Father won’t interfere. But what about you?”

Lu Jiahe gasped. He knew his actions couldn’t stay hidden much longer and almost knelt before Lu Baiyu: “Brother, I was wrong. I shouldn’t have used her. I shouldn’t have secretly teamed up with Secretary Song to do those things…”

“What else?”

“I shouldn’t have disobeyed my parents and targeted Jiang Tingzhou. I just… I just had a quarrel with him for so long…”

“Not just that, Jiahe,” Lu Baiyu sighed. “You’ve really underestimated Jiang Tingzhou. You thought he’d be defeated by such a small matter. But he could think of many ways to solve problems like this. Tingzhou was with me a long time. Don’t underestimate him. He’s much more capable than you. This mess will only make him angrier.”

Lu Baiyu once thought Jiang Tingzhou left out of anger, but now, knowing Secretary Song’s behind-the-scenes actions, he realized it was more complicated.

This had likely happened many times before.

Secretary Song naturally refused to admit anything, but if she refused to confess, he could still investigate.

He looked at Lu Jiahe.

He more or less understood Secretary Song’s situation now, but he still hadn’t figured out what to do about Lu Jiahe.

“I just don’t get it. Why do you always argue with Tingzhou every time you see him? Even now that he’s gone, you still won’t let it go. What are you really thinking?”

He had thought maybe Jiahe’s hostility came from the kidnapping incident or loyalty to Jiang You. But this had nothing to do with Jiang You.

Lu Jiahe lowered his head. Silent.

He couldn’t admit that once—that at first, he wanted to be friends with Jiang Tingzhou. After all, the kidnapping was a horrible ordeal. The guy lived a miserable life when he went missing.

But Jiang Tingzhou never catered to him.

Even back then, on the basketball team, Lu Jiahe was always the star. When they won, it was his credit. When they lost, it was his teammates’ fault.

He was barely there a few days when he watched a losing game. Passing by during a review meeting, he paused, then said bluntly, “You played mediocre.”

Lu Jiahe was stunned. “What did you say? Say that again if you dare.”

“I said you played mediocre. Isn’t this a review meeting?” Jiang Tingzhou repeated without hesitation. Back then, he hadn’t learned to soften his words. He just said what he thought. “Don’t blame your teammates—it wasn’t their fault.”

Lu Jiahe laughed in disbelief. “Do you even know basketball? Have you ever played in a game?”

Then Jiang Tingzhou shot a three-pointer right in front of him.

Basketball was his only activity at school—it was free. Later, he got good enough to play pickup games for money—200 yuan per win. That was one of his side hustles when he was working everywhere. He had no formal training, but he really was talented.

Everyone knew Lu Jiahe wasn’t good at basketball. Everyone could see it. But they just praised him to his face and criticized him behind his back.

Now at the company, it was the same. Everyone called him “Young Master Lu” to his face, but anonymously mocked him online.

Lu Jiahe knew.

No one truly thought he was capable. With Lu Baiyu shining so brightly ahead of him, he was just a piece of trash—not just to his father, but even Qin Rushuang felt that way.

Only Jiang Tingzhou ever told him the truth to his face.

Lu Jiahe didn’t need humility, didn’t want people to bow and scrape to him—he could tell if they weren’t sincere.

He just wanted this one person to yield once—to admit that he wasn’t so bad.

Just once would’ve been enough.