The Reviled God of Cooking Tries to Slack Off - Chapter 65

On Friday morning, the reporters hadn’t arrived yet, but the venue was already set up. There wasn’t any extravagant decoration, but the temporary shed stretched long across the space—and inside, there seemed to be… various snack stalls?

People arrived one after another, catching the scent of something fragrant even from a distance. At the sign-in table, the smell of rice candy lingered in the air. Some reporters who grew up in Yongqing County recognized it immediately—it was the scent of their childhood. Looking ahead, they saw crispy-bottom bread and the now-viral Black Sugar pastries.

The sweetness wafted through the air, bringing an energy and warmth to the scene.

This ceremony felt different from others they attended. The setup was celebratory, with plenty of bright red accents. It was a little rustic, but it felt lively and grounded—no pretentious airs.

There were no long speeches, no drawn-out introductions, and no rigid formalities. All the necessary information was sent to the media the day before, making article-writing easier for everyone.

The documents included an introduction to the sugar factory and an official response from the Li family. Everything that needed to be said was already written, so reporters didn’t have to sit through someone reading a script. For those who didn’t receive it in advance, all they had to do was show their ID at the entrance to get a copy.

It was simple and efficient, with no unnecessary steps.

Inside the sugar factory, food was prepared on-site ahead of the ribbon-cutting. Dishes were made fresh and served hot, with clear organization. Besides the standard travel stipend, every invited reporter got to enjoy an array of delicious snacks.

Forget all the lofty presentations—there was no better way to understand the sugar factory’s vision than to taste it.

In addition to their traditional rice candy and the now-popular crispy bread and black sugar products, there was even a sandwich stand.

Some reporters heard about Mayor Lu and the peanut butter sandwich and wondered if it really was that good. As soon as they arrived, the staff at the door were already handing them out—peanut butter, ground on the spot, complete with crunchy bits.

Since everyone was there for work and needed to carry cameras, it wasn’t convenient to sit down and eat a full meal. So everything was bite-sized—easy to pop into the mouth in one go. One bite at a time, they sampled a variety of treats. The chunky peanut butter was surprisingly sweet and rich. Beyond that, there were new fillings introduced just in time for the event.

Cheese, ham and egg—these were everyday ingredients for most office workers, but the handmade versions were worlds apart from what people usually bought. You had to eat it fresh: the eggs still soft and runny, the cheese melted, wrapped around fragrant slices of ham. One bite was all it took to tell the difference.

There were pork cutlet sandwiches too—juicy pork tucked into crisp lettuce, full of savory flavor. Tuna, crab stick with scrambled eggs, taro and pork floss, butter with crispy toast—there was something for every taste. If you didn’t like one, there was always another.

And even without the sandwich, just wrapping a freshly fried pork cutlet or crab-and-egg scramble in lettuce was delicious enough. The lettuce seemed specially selected—young, crisp, sweet, and refreshing.

Further in, some vendors from the morning market street were invited to run stalls too. The one in the center, naturally, belonged to Zhou Lifen’s ham shop—now enjoying booming business. The hams were served hot, in small portions, and people lined up to eat them while they were fresh.

It really was delicious—no wonder she was the reigning champion of long lines in the area.

Next door was the drink section—freshly ground peanut milk, rich sesame paste, and various sweet soups from local dessert shops. For those who found it too sweet, there was also savory broth available.

Before the ribbon-cutting even began, when Jiang Tingzhou arrived with Li Shuyan’s parents and Li Xu, the venue was already buzzing. The crowd was filled with exclamations like “this is amazing,” and everyone looked genuinely happy.

Besides reporters, there were also invited guests, including suppliers and distributors now working with the sugar factory.

The sugar factory already expanded beyond online sales. The black sugar series, with its long shelf life, was ready for supermarket and snack store shelves. After tasting the products, several people went to the side to inquire about wholesale pricing.

Some reporters arrived late or didn’t feel like eating. Nearby, various sugar factory products were displayed and available as take-home gifts. There were both popular classics and newly developed items that weren’t even launched yet—plenty of options, rich in variety.

This wasn’t just a ribbon-cutting—it felt more like a local press event grounded in the community.

There were no grand speeches about future plans or vague company goals. Just look around: the vision was clear. This place was destined to become Yongqing’s iconic food street.

As the Li family trio walked through the crowd, observing the energy of the event, Jiang Tingzhou continued explaining.

“The sandwich series is going to launch soon,” he said. “Since we have so many people here today, might as well let everyone try the new products and get some feedback.”

Li Xu already tried a few and offered a straightforward verdict: “Not bad. Really tasty.”

There wasn’t anything complicated about making sandwiches like these. Like the mini buns, the key was in using good ingredients. Some flavors, like chunky peanut butter, purple rice cheese, and taro paste, could be sold cold and shipped online.

But other fillings needed to be hot and fresh. The best time to eat them was within two minutes of preparation—any longer and the bread would get soggy, and the flavors would degrade.

This was exactly why Jiang Tingzhou told Mayor Lu earlier that the sugar factory needed to open physical stores—not just to expand sales, but because some foods simply tasted best fresh.

Online sales were essential, but so were in-person businesses. Both supported the billion-yuan investment and grew the brand step by step.

Though the event was called a ribbon-cutting, it felt more like an authentic product showcase.

Of course, certain formalities couldn’t be skipped—after all, the reporters still needed interview material. But compared to a stiff, official atmosphere, the vibe here was far more relaxed.

At one point, Li Shuyan stood by the sandwich stall, fielding questions while handing out food like a warm, friendly vendor. Even when reporters asked about her and the Jang family, she responded with a smile.

“As for me and the Jang family? We didn’t see eye to eye, so we broke up,” she said, laughing. “He wanted to build school district housing, and I just wanted to make bread.”

To her, there was no need to turn it into online drama.

The Jang family wasn’t a publicly listed company, and public opinion didn’t have much sway over someone like Jang Li. Her goals—ending the engagement and withdrawing investment—were already accomplished. There was no point dragging herself into the mud for others to judge.

Still, if she said nothing, it would only lead to speculation that the Li family backed out. So her tone and attitude toward the media today were crucial.

As she spoke, she handed a reporter a freshly made cream sandwich, sliced open with half an orange inside. The fruit’s acidity cut through the cream, keeping it from feeling greasy—just the right balance.

Everyone chatted and snacked at the same time, and the atmosphere was incredibly relaxed.

“Right now in Yongqing, a school district house starts at three million,” Li Shuyan said. “But here in the sugar factory, a basic sandwich costs just three yuan. Both are investment projects. I just want to do something grounded. He wants to fly too high. I think he’ll crash and burn—so of course I had to get out quickly.”

She didn’t plan to mention the breakup, but in saying this, she clearly jabbed at the Jang family—and the reporters couldn’t help but laugh.

Now that they saw how relaxed and composed she was, it was clear the Li family did nothing wrong. The Jang family, on the other hand, remained silent and avoided public response. The conclusion was obvious.

Even when reporters threw difficult questions at her, Li Shuyan easily deflected with a smile and steered the conversation back to the sugar factory. The continuous stream of snacks and the cheerful, candid exchanges made the whole event feel more like a gathering than a press conference.

It was all arranged naturally—by Jiang Tingzhou.

For other routine ribbon-cutting ceremonies, Jiang Tingzhou now preferred a lively atmosphere. That day’s vibrant scene wasn’t just for the benefit of reporters and partners—it was also meant for the Li family, who came to observe.

Although the Li family withdrew from the school district housing project, that didn’t mean they would immediately pivot to investing in the sugar factory.

Mother Li was still worried about Li Shuyan and wanted to bring her back to the investment company. Yet her daughter’s composure there surprised even the Li parents who arrived later.

—Their once restless daughter now appeared entirely unaffected by the Jang family’s affairs.

The Li family’s view of Jiang Tingzhou clearly changed.

Just then, Cheng Shifei arrived. Wearing a cap to avoid the reporters, he approached Jiang Tingzhou from the side and patted him on the shoulder.

He wasn’t alone—Qin Rushuang, who recently followed the A Bite of China project, stood behind him.

The Li family didn’t expect to see her there and were momentarily stunned before offering a greeting. They were surprised to see her standing beside Jiang Tingzhou at the previous engagement party, but seeing her again made it seem less like coincidence.

More notably, Qin Rushuang’s attitude toward Jiang Tingzhou was courteous and respectful. She said, “The Lu Group and A Bite of China are planning to collaborate. I came to thank you for your help.”

Jiang Tingzhou told Lu Baiyu he would speak positively to Cheng Shifei as a favor in return.

Since then, she stayed involved, discussing many details with Cheng Shifei, who was eventually swayed. The decision was finalized just yesterday, and The Lu Group was naturally pleased with the long-awaited outcome.

Though Lu Baiyu himself didn’t look too thrilled upon hearing the news.

The sugar factory’s opening ceremony was public—ordinary reporters were allowed in. Qin Rushuang’s presence had no impact on Jiang Tingzhou, and he simply addressed her as President Qin.

But there was something unusual in Qin Rushuang’s gaze toward Jiang Tingzhou—not just admiration, but the kind of curiosity that grew the more she learned about him.

Having overheard some of Jiang Tingzhou’s conversation with the Li family when she entered, she now added, “This project is quite promising. If the Li family is hesitant, the Lu family is willing to invest. Or…” She paused, considering if Jiang Tingzhou wanted to avoid any association with his ‘ex-boyfriend,’ she needed a backup plan. “The Qin family can also invest. I can authorize a few hundred million.”

She wasn’t chasing the sugar factory—it was Jiang Tingzhou himself she was interested in.

Li Xu laughed when he heard this and said, “President Qin misunderstands. Our discussion isn’t really about the money.”

Qin Rushuang: “Oh?”

The Li family had surplus funds, and after seeing Li Shuyan’s current state, they were already satisfied. Giving Jiang Tingzhou additional support to keep her happy wasn’t difficult. Besides, Jiang Tingzhou himself wasn’t concerned about money. With the sugar factory project’s initial funds secured and construction underway, what he needed now was manpower.

“He needs a team,” Li Xu explained, “and not just any team.”

Rather than simply convincing the Li family to let Li Shuyan remain focused on the sugar factory instead of bringing her back, it was better to directly provide a full, capable team from within the Li family’s company.

Li Shuyan currently had only a handful of people working with her, and they were already overloaded. The workload would only increase.

Jiang Tingzhou didn’t work overtime anymore—and he didn’t want others working nonstop either. As with the factory workers, he insisted on proper rest. It wasn’t about lacking funds—it was about ensuring there were enough people.

It was too late to build a team for the sugar factory project from scratch. From construction and management to implementation, experienced professionals were essential. The factory’s scale was expanding, and Manager Peng and Manager Mo were already overwhelmed. They needed professionals to take over.

“Our best team leader is Wen Qi,” Li Xu continued. “But he’s difficult. Even if we’re willing, he might not be.”

At the mention of this name, Qin Rushuang raised her brows, a little surprised. “Wen Qi? I remember he used to work at The Lu Group. Tingzhou, you’re aiming high.”

He was indeed talented. Though under 30, he was already well-known in Yongqing. The Li family’s investment company might not be larger than The Lu Group platform, but it offered a lot of autonomy. The Li family supported him and didn’t dare command him. He led a full team and had extensive experience in new construction projects, with comprehensive expertise.

“That’s him,” Li Xu confirmed, “but we haven’t been able to persuade him. All we can do is suggest.”

Wen Qi was originally in charge of a major school district housing project worth tens of billions. Now that the project was scrapped, he held back his frustrations out of professionalism. Asking him to now work on a sugar factory worth just one-tenth of that investment could be seen as beneath him—so his reluctance was understandable.

Cheng Shifei grew curious and glanced around. “Who is he?”

Anyone that everyone praised so highly must be exceptional. He was eager to meet him.

“I invited him,” Jiang Tingzhou said calmly, “but he didn’t show up. I haven’t met him yet.”

The ribbon-cutting was about to begin. The Li family was present, but Wen Qi still didn’t arrive—a clear sign of his stance. Wen Qi was someone who didn’t even bother to show the Li family much respect, so it was natural he wouldn’t prioritize Jiang Tingzhou either.

“It’s fine,” Jiang Tingzhou said. “It was just an invitation. If he truly isn’t interested, I’ll find someone else. I won’t force it.”

Jiang Tingzhou never forced such matters. He accepted that the man didn’t come.

But having lived two lifetimes, he knew Wen Qi was truly talented, well-regarded in the industry, and currently under the Li family. Now that the opportunity arose, he had to give it a shot.

Li Shuyan felt the same. If Wen Qi wouldn’t agree, the Li family could always appoint someone else.

Two assistants followed Qin Rushuang. One quietly turned aside, seemingly sending a message.

Meanwhile, Lu Baiyu received a message while sitting by the window.

He didn’t join Cheng Shifei and Qin Rushuang that day.

Jiang Tingzhou arranged it that way. Lu Baiyu often represented The Lu Group at events and was recognized by many reporters. Appearing on-site might attract unnecessary attention and detract from the sugar factory’s spotlight.

Still, the area near the ceremony was filled with buildings. From one window, he had a clear view of Jiang Tingzhou.

He watched as the Li family walked alongside Jiang Tingzhou, their attitudes shifting from guarded to relaxed. What was supposed to be a routine ribbon-cutting now became a lively, memorable event. The reporters would no doubt remember it vividly.

Even though he wasn’t standing next to Jiang Tingzhou, Lu Baiyu was satisfied watching everything he helped arrange unfold successfully.

As for Wen Qi, Lu Baiyu had his own thoughts.

Wen Qi worked at The Lu Group right after graduation. Though he eventually moved on, they parted on good terms. There was still a bond between them—not just as former colleagues, but as friends. He understood Wen Qi’s proud personality.

He couldn’t interfere with money matters now, but perhaps he could lend a hand with personnel. He might not be able to convince Wen Qi directly—but he might at least get him to show up and take a look.