The Reviled God of Cooking Tries to Slack Off - Chapter 41

He didn’t quite understand what Lu Baiyu was doing—it seemed to be something related to the wellness industry, probably.

Lu Jiahe missed the rest of the conversation. His phone rang, and in his fluster to check it, he saw half the screen showing the character “Jiang.” His heart jumped, but when he looked closer, it was Jiang You.

He felt a strange pang of disappointment but still answered the call.

Jiang You was calling about something serious.

Some time ago, a message from Deputy Director Sun of A Bite of China had come through Jiang You’s account, and that was how the two had connected.

Jiang You told him that Deputy Director Sun and some team members would be arriving early that night and wanted to meet in private. They had booked a private room at a bar and hoped to discuss potential collaboration.

Though it sounded overly formal, private meetings like that were common. There really was a Deputy Director Sun on the A Bite of China team, and while the meeting was set on short notice, Jiang You thought it was worth going.

Jiang You sounded excited. Lu Jiahe wanted to consult Qin Rushuang, but Jiang You stopped him.

“Aunt Qin would definitely let you go to something like this,” he said. “If you explain it, she’ll agree. But I think this opportunity is rare.”

He wasn’t wrong.

Lu Jiahe thought of the chief director, Cheng Shifei, who had a rather quirky temperament and rarely dealt with outsiders. Now that he had made up his mind to win that project—partly to prove something—Deputy Director Sun’s interest was too good to pass up. The man had a decent personality and was indeed a member of the A Bite of China team. It was a rare opportunity he couldn’t miss.

He could always hide under Jiang Tingzhou’s protection.

But ever since that day, he had realized that wasn’t enough. So he agreed to go with Jiang You that night.

Lu Jiahe drove over to pick him up. Jiang You’s outfit that day was a bit unusual. It was still white like he often wore, but the waist and back had cutouts—barely noticeable unless one looked closely. His perfume had changed, too. Up close, there was a distinct white tea fragrance, light and refreshing.

Jiang You had planned that outing.

It wasn’t just about business—he had wanted to take the next step. He couldn’t wait any longer. After waiting so many years, he didn’t just want to be friends with Lu Jiahe.

But that day, Lu Jiahe didn’t pay much attention to his outfit. Lately, they hadn’t been as inseparable as before.

After Jiang You got into the car, his phone buzzed with a push notification. He glanced down—it was a “Recommended For You” suggestion from a short video app.

Last time, Lu Jiahe had watched An Xiaoping’s video for a long while. Even though he didn’t follow or like it, the platform’s algorithm had taken note. That time, it pushed the latest video he had just uploaded.

The title was: “Went home again for the weekend to eat my brother’s homemade bread!”

Without thinking, Lu Jiahe clicked it open.

Jiang Tingzhou appeared immediately on screen, head bowed while kneading dough, a dusting of flour on his hair.

He was inviting everyone to have afternoon tea. The centerpiece was a selection of small breads. The aroma was so enticing that neighbors arrived, lured by the smell.

“Something smells amazing! It woke me up from my nap. I brought fruit and snacks—can I join you?”

The wooden table had been moved beneath the persimmon tree in the yard. Bamboo chairs were placed out. Jiang Tingzhou’s vegetable garden was in the background, its greenery showing in the camera frame. One neighbor brought a full tea set, and the yard was large enough to fit everyone. In the end, more than a dozen people gathered for afternoon tea, chatting in the sun. Lu Jiahe even spotted Li Shuyan in the crowd.

His heart gave a slight pang of sourness, but he gritted his teeth and kept watching.

In the video, Jiang Tingzhou first made a regular version of the bread to test it out. The crispy bottom turned out perfectly. Then he brought out a brown sugar version.

The freshly baked bread looked and smelled amazing. One could watch it expand in the warm orange glow of the oven. The syrup inside made the whole thing sweeter—you could almost smell it through the screen.

Tearing it open revealed thick layers of brown sugar filling. He had even added mochi for softness and walnuts for crunch. Each roll had a close-up shot showing the fluffy interior—clearly delicious.

The flavors hit with a nostalgic sweetness, like childhood, waiting at home for your parents to return with bread.

Then Jiang Tingzhou brought out the final batch. The earlier ones were sweet, so he made a savory version—salted egg yolk with pork floss. Tearing it open revealed crisp yolk, fragrant floss, salad dressing, and ham. The crispy, salty base gave it a unique flavor.

He was the chef that day. Even though he arrived late, everyone had saved a spot for him. Even though he told them to eat first, they waited. Someone had cut the center of the melon for him. The largest cherries were piled in front of him. Tea had already been brewed.

Aunt Deng brought Pu’er tea. Grandpa Li brought a whole tea table and offered a cup of Baihao Yinzhen. Both poured him fresh tea. Jiang Tingzhou first tasted the Pu’er and said, “Lao Banzhang?”

He hadn’t been a tea connoisseur before, but he could now identify varieties and tell what was cheap and what was good.

“Mm,” Aunt Deng nodded. “I thought this would go well with your bread.”

Grandpa Li’s tea was even better—a top-grade Baihao Yinzhen. Jiang Tingzhou rarely got to drink something so fine. With neighbors bringing such good tea, he felt his modest little place wasn’t quite worthy.

“It’s just afternoon tea,” said the neighbors, unfazed. “Doesn’t matter what kind of tea—we’re here to enjoy ourselves.”

An Xiaoping, who recorded the video, could tell the difference between teas too. He described the contrasting flavors—one strong and bitter with a sweet finish, perfect for sweet bread; the other light and floral, suitable with savory snacks.

“I remember the old bakery had similar cakes,” someone said. “But Jiang’s version made me forget all about those.”

“It’s a shame they’re gone,” someone else added. “Especially the sugar factory. I really miss that time.”

Tian Hui was inspired. “I think I’ll draft a proposal to do a story on the sugar factory.”

Many nearby residents had ties to it. Some became business owners, some moved on, but all shared memories. Even Li Shuyan looked moved, more determined than ever to pursue the sugar factory project.

Jiang Tingzhou didn’t say much. He sat beneath the persimmon tree, sunlight dappled on his face, smiling faintly as neighbors reminisced about the past.

He looked so relaxed in the video. The whole thing was over ten minutes long—no fancy editing, just raw footage. It felt fresh, filmed that afternoon and posted that evening. The likes and comments were rising fast.

It was on track to become a hit.

Even though the video was long, Lu Jiahe watched almost to the end. In the last two minutes, someone asked:

“How are you so good at cooking—everything you make tastes so good, even bread?”

“I wasn’t at first,” Jiang Tingzhou said with a faint smile. “I used to think it was a foreign gimmick. My first teacher wasn’t that great either. Later on…”

He said it facing the camera, a faint smile on his face.

It was the kind of smile you couldn’t look away from.

It was right at that moment that he shut the video—because Jiang You suddenly called him.

Like a guilty thief, Lu Jiahe quickly closed the video and flipped his phone face-down. But the images lingered in his mind.

He caught himself and felt oddly embarrassed. It was just a video—nothing to be ashamed of. But Jiang You asked, “Why’s your face so red?”

“Why is your face red?”

“Nothing!” he said loudly. “It’s just a little hot!”

Jiang You found him odd but didn’t comment. They had already arrived.

The venue wasn’t bad—dark and luxurious with a brothel-like air. The scent of wine lingered. It was the kind of place where thoughts drifted.

Their private room overlooked the dance floor. Through tinted glass, they could see the dancers below—but the dancers couldn’t see them.

Still, compared to the warm, earthy charm of the video, that place felt… off.

Lu Jiahe found it hard to focus. His obsessive-compulsive tendencies kicked in. Watching that video just before that made the contrast too jarring.

Then, the person from A Bite of China arrived.

She was a young woman in red, her face mostly hidden behind a mask for the night’s masquerade theme. Judging by her voice and posture, she was about twenty-seven or twenty-eight.

“I’m a friend of Deputy Director Sun. He should’ve mentioned me.”

Jiang You nodded and introduced her to Lu Jiahe.

“I know you, Young Master Lu. I’ve heard of you for a long time.” She was straightforward and cheerful. “I work closely with Deputy Director Sun and know the station well. Xiaoyou’s reputation online is strong. If you help promote him, it’s a win-win. Deputy Director Sun will arrive shortly—shall we talk first?”

She talked with ease, raising Jiang You’s hand lightly as they sat down.

Once seated, the conversation turned serious.

“The Lu Group is going all in this time,” she said. “That’s a lot of pressure. Aren’t you worried about reigniting the old conflict?”

“We’ve been at odds for so long,” Lu Jiahe replied. “One more round doesn’t matter.”

That time, the Lu family was putting great emphasis on the project—not just because it was a great PR opportunity, but because it was another battle with their old rival, Suda. Suda was based in the capital and had strong ties with CCTV. Both were leading logistics companies—Suda in the north, Lu Group in the south. Their conflict ran deep.

Business was war. Especially over such a massive piece of the pie. Competing for A Bite of China’s naming rights was nothing. The real bloodbath had been the express delivery price war a few years ago. That was when knives truly came out. Everyone remembered it.

“I’ve heard about it,” the woman smiled. “Young Master Lu—your brother, Lu Baiyu—left quite an impression during that price war with Suda a few years back.” She raised her glass, her smile deepening. “Step by step, never missing a beat. Truly worthy of his reputation.”

—

It was past 10 p.m.

Jiang Tingzhou, already in pajamas, was ready to sleep. Though not used to going to bed early, he had started making it routine.

After showering, he could still smell the bread scent on his skin—it clung from baking too much earlier.

Just as he was about to close the door and head upstairs, a noise sounded outside.

The courtyard gate hadn’t been closed yet. The yellow light in the yard was still on. From the doorway, he saw a figure approaching.

He recognized it instantly—Lu Baiyu.

He tried to dodge, but Lu Baiyu grabbed him. He tried to shake him off, but they scuffled.

Lu Baiyu came prepared and forced his way inside.

“Tingzhou,” he said, “I know I shouldn’t bother you. But I feel awful. I just wanted to see you—then I’ll go.”

It didn’t seem like a lie. His entire body radiated heat, and his voice grew weaker with every word. His throat was hoarse, and it truly looked like he couldn’t stand. He suddenly leaned forward, collapsing against Jiang Tingzhou. The two of them fell onto the living room sofa.

He looked genuinely frail. If he didn’t want to move, it would’ve been difficult to push him off.

Jiang Tingzhou: …

He didn’t know what to say to Lu Baiyu.

That act—he had used it in their past life too.

Back then, it had worked.

But that time… not anymore.