The Reviled God of Cooking Tries to Slack Off - Chapter 64

Jiang Tingzhou felt that after saying all that, Lu Baiyu understood.

From then on, the two of them barely interacted—after all, he was no longer Lu Group’s business partner. He ran his own ventures now.

Li Shuyan drove the car out.

Although the earlier scene was a little strange, she didn’t bring up Jiang Tingzhou’s personal matters. At that moment, she only wanted to say a few words to him privately.

Even though she had already made up her mind, she still chose her words carefully.

“Tingzhou, now that the truth is out, I feel I should apologize to you face-to-face,” Li Shuyan said. “Actually, it wasn’t that you accidentally let someone take the love letter—it was Jiang You who planned it all along. He watched my actions and knew that I wrote you a love letter. No matter how careful you were back then, you couldn’t possibly watch that letter every second. Jiang You already had a target and would’ve found a way to get it. So, I wasn’t caught up in your trouble because you were targeted—you were implicated because of me—it’s that I dragged you down. It was never your fault. Don’t think you weren’t good enough. Tingzhou, you’ve always been a good person.”

Jiang Tingzhou stayed quiet for a moment after listening, then said, “I know.”

Li Shuyan asked, “Do you blame me?”

“It was someone else who did something wrong. Why would we blame each other? There’s no need to apologize,” Jiang Tingzhou smiled. “Didn’t we say it back in high school? Friends take care of each other when problems come up.”

Just like that day—they worked together to make the Jiang family pay. Besides, he, An Xiaoping, and Li Shuyan still worked on the sugar factory project.

Li Shuyan nodded. “Yeah.”

They untangled the knots from the past and became close again—this time, as real friends.

The car passed through the glittering city lights, through the most prosperous parts of town, and into the old part of Yongqing.

It was much quieter there.

The car couldn’t drive all the way to Jiang Tingzhou’s home, so he walked a few minutes to his place. When he got back, he sat on the sofa for a long time. He didn’t do anything, just sat.

In his own little home, he felt comfortable. The whole atmosphere relaxed him, like he was recharging.

Although the events of the day were chaotic, he always recovered quickly once he got home.

The sofa was soft. To prevent mosquitoes, the house carried a light scent of floral water.

A breeze picked up that night—Jiang Tingzhou heard the leaves rustling in the courtyard, and the beaded curtain cord swaying and tapping gently against the window.

He sat there listening for a while, then got up and tied up the curtain cord.

Then he realized he was a little hungry.

He rushed out earlier and didn’t eat dinner. He didn’t feel it at the time, but now that everything settled, hunger hit him.

He made sweet and sour pork earlier, but just as it came out of the pot, Li Shuyan messaged him, and he left it aside. This dish was best when fresh, but now it was cold.

Sweet and sour pork wasn’t easy to reheat. Once warmed up, the coating turned soft. Even if the oven made the outside crisp again, the meat inside got tough, and the sugar crust turned mushy. Better to eat it cold.

Jiang Tingzhou brought the dish over, took a bite, and muttered to himself that it was a shame it wasn’t fresh anymore. But he still slowly ate two pieces and felt fairly satisfied.

Just then, there was a soft knock on the door.

He went over with the plate in hand and saw that it was Lu Baiyu.

He stood at the door, not barging in like last time. He held something in his hand—a large food box.

At first, he didn’t say anything. His eyes were still red. Only when Jiang Tingzhou looked over did he finally speak.

“Tingzhou, you probably didn’t get a chance to eat after the driver came to pick you up,” Lu Baiyu said. His voice was still hoarse. “This was delivered not long ago. It’s hot. Don’t eat cold food in this kind of weather—it’s bad for your stomach.”

Jiang Tingzhou’s meal times were regular. Anyone paying attention could tell.

Even though the day didn’t go as expected, Lu Baiyu still thought about it.

At the very least, he didn’t want him to go hungry.

Seeing that Jiang Tingzhou didn’t say anything, he added, “I’m just delivering this. If today’s event counts as a kind of cooperation…” He paused, his voice trembling slightly. “Then just consider this as part of our cooperation.”

He wasn’t able to leave after hearing everything, so he followed him all the way there. But once the cold night wind hit, his mind cleared a bit.

He knew hugging Jiang Tingzhou and confessing wouldn’t work now. Saying “I love you” meant nothing to him anymore. Even if he said it, it didn’t mean the other person heard it. None of that meant as much as a meal.

“Just delivering it?” Jiang Tingzhou looked at the box and didn’t argue. “Then give me the second-to-last layer.”

Lu Baiyu opened the box. The second-to-last layer was a bowl of multi-grain porridge, still steaming.

“Should be multi-grain porridge,” Jiang Tingzhou said.

Lu Baiyu froze. There was some distance between them, and the container was well-sealed for insulation. How did Jiang Tingzhou know what was inside?

Jiang Tingzhou came over to take it. Seeing Lu Baiyu’s expression, he understood what he was thinking and explained, “There are only a few places where you’d order food from.”

Either the Lu family’s chef made it, or, if it was too late, it was ordered from a handful of restaurants. Just by looking at the container, he could tell. Only a few restaurants delivered to the Lu family, and their seasonal menus were familiar—whether it was from working in Gongyan or just from being around Lu Baiyu for so long—he memorized them.

Soup went at the bottom. That season, it was probably bitter melon and pork ribs. The main dishes went on top, in order.

That layer had to be multi-grain porridge.

Because he experienced all this before, Jiang Tingzhou could predict what Lu Baiyu would do.

Just like the last time he feigned injury. Just like that night’s food delivery. There were only ever a few patterns when they were together.

Jiang Tingzhou already ate sweet and sour pork. He didn’t plan to eat what Lu Baiyu brought, but figured the porridge would go well with it. It was a bit late to cook porridge from scratch, so he reluctantly accepted the multi-grain porridge to make up for it.

A bowl of porridge wasn’t a favor, and since Lu Baiyu said he’d leave after delivering it, there was no need to say anything more.

The porridge from that restaurant was always done well—rich, thick, and carefully made.

Jiang Tingzhou took the bowl, sat down again by the window, and turned back to see Lu Baiyu, eyes full of something unspoken.

Lu Baiyu had no reason to stay any longer. He left with the lunch box—only one bowl of porridge missing—and couldn’t help but glance back at Jiang Tingzhou.

Jiang Tingzhou was still slowly eating his dinner. He didn’t sit at the table, probably because the table by the window didn’t offer a view.

He seemed to be looking up at something.

Lu Baiyu followed his gaze and looked outside. He was probably looking at that night’s moon. The moon hung in the sky, curved and half-covered by drifting clouds, yet still bright. The old city didn’t have any tall buildings to block the view, so the entire sky was visible.

It was the kind of night Jiang Tingzhou could spend quietly watching the moon.

Lu Baiyu carried the lunch box back to the car alone. It was parked by the side of the road. Secretary Xu was waiting.

When she took the box, she noticed the weight didn’t change much but didn’t dare ask. Then she heard Lu Baiyu ask, “Does this restaurant that delivers food have a fixed menu?”

“The main set meals change every month,” Secretary Xu replied. “They can also be customized, but I didn’t know Mr. Jiang’s preferences, so I chose the default set.”

In that situation, the safest choice was to go with the restaurant’s recommended options.

Hearing this, Lu Baiyu fell silent for a while before saying, “Let’s go home. The company will reimburse the taxi fare.”

Secretary Xu asked no further questions and left with the box.

Lu Baiyu didn’t eat any of it himself. He couldn’t eat.

Hearing that response made him feel even heavier inside.

As for Jiang Tingzhou’s preferences—it wasn’t Secretary Xu’s fault for not being attentive. It was because he himself didn’t know.

He asked that question in his previous life, and Jiang Tingzhou replied, “I like anything as long as it tastes good. No particular favorite.”

It seemed true. As a chef, Jiang Tingzhou wasn’t picky. He tasted all kinds of cuisines, and as long as the ingredients were fresh, he never distinguished between high and low quality. He really was an easy person to please. He had no known allergies and liked sweet, sour, bitter, spicy, and salty dishes alike.

And whatever he cooked was always good. Even chefs specializing in a particular cuisine or famous restaurants couldn’t compare to his skills.

So chasing after a so-called “favorite dish” felt meaningless. Jiang Tingzhou himself couldn’t name one, and Lu Baiyu didn’t get an answer back then, so he never asked again.

But even for a chef, was it really possible to have no real preference?

That night, Jiang Tingzhou picked just a bowl of plain porridge. Lu Baiyu tried hard to remember, but still couldn’t figure out what Jiang Tingzhou liked most.

He thought about it all night, curled up in the car, staring out the window. From where he was parked, he could just see the rooftop of Jiang Tingzhou’s home, lit by the ever-glowing rooftop lamp.

He didn’t dare go back up to find Jiang Tingzhou. The longer he stayed there, the sadder he felt.

In the end, he didn’t return home. He simply curled up there and didn’t close his eyes all night.

Meanwhile, Jiang Tingzhou slept soundly.

The next morning, after watering the vegetables in the yard, he went to the sugar factory. Li Shuyan had arrived early. The ribbon-cutting ceremony was the next day, and there was a lot to prepare.

Jiang Tingzhou didn’t concern himself with the arrangements. Li Shuyan wasn’t doing it alone either; the Li family sent several capable assistants. The sugar factory project was now on the right track and became much easier to manage.

As soon as they met, Li Shuyan shared some news: “Today, my family officially cut ties with the Jang family. Since they’re no longer investing in the school district housing project, there’s some extra money available. I’m thinking about testing my parents’ and uncle’s opinions to see if they’d be willing to continue investing in the sugar factory.”

If the Li family agreed, the factory would have no financial worries. But after their previous lesson, they were much more cautious. The investment required wasn’t small, and they didn’t decide easily.

By the Li family’s current thinking, it was better for Li Shuyan to return to the investment company and inherit the family business. But she was unwilling.

“They’ll also attend the ribbon-cutting tomorrow—sort of like an inspection,” she said. “Sigh, there’ll be so many reporters tomorrow.”

She sounded a little worried.

She originally invited just a few reporters to do standard news coverage. But now, since Mayor Lu and Cheng Shifei were attending, another wave of reporters joined in.

Early that morning, the news of the Li and Jang families breaking off relations had already spread. Li Shuyan didn’t intend for her personal affairs to become gossip, but the engagement between two wealthy families drew a lot of attention. Now that it was suddenly called off, the public buzzed. Both financial and tabloid reporters were drawn in by the scent of scandal.

Because of this, the ribbon-cutting ceremony was likely to be much livelier than any other redevelopment project in the old city.

Li Shuyan didn’t mean to cause such a stir. But now that things reached this point, she didn’t want to offend anyone—nor could she send them away.

The process for the ceremony was routine: warm-up, interviews, speeches, then the ribbon-cutting, and finally a conclusion from the host. The whole thing would take about an hour.

She didn’t want to face awkward personal questions from reporters, which could lead to unnecessary trouble. All she wanted was to complete the event properly.

Jiang Tingzhou listened and said, “Then don’t bother with all the extra stuff—just cut the ribbon.”

The most important guest, Mayor Lu, squeezed the event into his packed schedule. He stayed only about ten minutes, long enough to take part in the official ribbon-cutting before leaving.

“That won’t do,” Li Shuyan said. “The ribbon-cutting only takes a few minutes. If the reporters arrive early and just sit there doing nothing, that’s not good.”

Jiang Tingzhou attended many ribbon-cutting events and knew that the warm-ups and speeches were mostly symbolic. The reporters probably didn’t even listen closely. Many just showed up to fulfill work quotas or meet KPIs.

She also had no intention of responding to any gossip reporters asking about her private life. Those things had nothing to do with the sugar factory. Inviting reporters was purely for promotional purposes—nothing flashy, nothing controversial.

“It won’t be boring,” Jiang Tingzhou said. “Since they’re coming, let them have something to eat.”

To fit Mayor Lu’s schedule, the ribbon-cutting ceremony took place between 11:00 and 12:00.

Perfect timing—for lunch.