The Reviled God of Cooking Tries to Slack Off - Chapter 7

At this point, Manager Yang was the one eager to quickly remove the hot search, but it was no longer something he could control.

And with the rising attention, the truth only became clearer.

No matter how many water armies were deployed, the blow dealt by Qingyu News was too strong, and no one could refute it.

The trending headline even became: “Celebrity Bullies Sick Worker Online.”

Some fans still caused trouble, but ordinary passers-by understood what happened after reading those posts. Many quietly deleted their insulting comments under Jiang Tingzhou’s Weibo, and a few even bowed their heads and apologized.

His comment section reversed overnight and looked much cleaner than before. An Xiaoping even worked hard to boost some of the supportive comments.

After everyone calmed down, they started paying attention to the content he posted.

Jiang Tingzhou’s account was full of cooking videos, though clearly, he wasn’t very savvy with social media. His videos were rough—no narration, no face cam, the camera angle never changed, the editing was poor, and the lighting was often dim. No filters—he just focused intently on cooking.

But even with so many drawbacks, the dishes looked really delicious.

One video showed beef stew, simple and rustic. As soon as the pot lid lifted, steam rose. The beef stewed in the casserole looked tender and flavorful, glossy with oil and rich sauce.

He sprinkled chopped green onions, stirred with a spoon, and flipped the potatoes stewed underneath.

Even before the reversal on the hot search, there were almost no ugly comments below.

—“You’re a bad person, but this beef… the beef looks good too.”

—“Honestly, the dish is good. Winning the championship shouldn’t be shady.”

—“How about giving me a bite? I won’t scold you because I’m a foodie. Besides, I don’t like Zhao Tongzhi anyway.”

—“It really looks delicious. I’m greedy just watching it. No wonder big stars get angry when they can’t eat this. I got so anxious that I went to the kitchen and found nothing. I drank half a spoon of vinegar with water.”

Since the incident, Jiang Tingzhou hadn’t updated, but his fan count increased to over 50,000. Some even urged him to post more.

An Xiaoping, who was the first to speak up in his defense, saw his own popularity rise as well. It was a case of misfortune turning into opportunity—especially since he was good-looking.

Qingyu News’s exposé, meanwhile, became a true hit. Besides clarifying facts, it also triggered a wave of backlash against Zhao Tongzhi.

Many commenters began revealing past stories about Zhao Tongzhi’s diva behavior, drawing attention from marketing accounts, and cries of “he’s done for” echoed across reposts.

Shares of the exposé topped 100,000.

Qingyu News, much more diligent than Jiang Tingzhou, updated frequently and saw its follower count double to over 100,000 almost overnight.

Young reporter Tian Hui looked very excited. She never expected such a golden opportunity to fall from the sky.

She had been very depressed after being sidelined at the company. As a newcomer, she had no way to complain. Now, thanks to this news, the editor-in-chief finally noticed her and her past issues. She was quickly transferred to a more important department.

The performance of that article ranked among the best in the entire company. It was even rumored that the supervisor who bullied her was demoted as a result.

When she was caring for her mother in the hospital, she even considered quitting her job altogether. She never imagined such a reversal—like a gift from the heavens.

“Brother Jiang, you are really my lucky star,” she said sincerely, happy. “It’s a pity there are still water armies making trouble. I always feel I can’t help much, and our company ended up getting all the benefit.”

Although Jiang Tingzhou was actually a year younger than Tian Hui, she naturally called him “Brother” without feeling it was inappropriate.

To her, his whole aura exuded the kind of calm dominance that made people instinctively defer to him. Calling him “Brother” even felt like selling him short.

Jiang Tingzhou smiled, “Don’t worry about those trolls. The online battle isn’t the real point here. You actually helped me a lot.”

The trending post itself wasn’t what mattered. Most people didn’t know the situation at the restaurant, so he gave a brief explanation of why he blew it up. An Xiaoping and Tian Hui were stunned for a moment, then slowly came to understand.

An Xiaoping, knowing Manager Yang must be going crazy now, grinned widely but then sighed. “Man, you really have it rough living in the Jiang family… You weren’t like this before.”

He remembered Jiang Tingzhou used to be simple and straightforward.

Tian Hui echoed the sentiment, “I definitely don’t have the brain for this.”

This scheming side of Jiang Tingzhou was honed over many years. His once straightforward nature had changed. He first learned to endure, then gradually figured out how to maneuver.

He long since realized that even laying out facts and reasoning couldn’t solve many problems. Being right didn’t mean you would win. If you didn’t want to suffer, you had to be patient and go around the obstacles.

These kinds of strategies became second nature to him. He didn’t even think it was a hassle anymore. But hearing them say this, he chuckled and murmured to himself, “…Yeah, that’s true.”

The trending search lasted from the previous night until morning and dropped to the bottom by noon. By that time, the tide had completely turned.

Then, An Xiaoping browsed his phone and suddenly said, “Hey—Zhao Tongzhi deleted his post and even apologized?”

For him to delete and apologize wasn’t unusual. As an actor, he had a new movie coming out soon. To mitigate the impact, of course he had to bow his head. But whether the public would forgive him was another matter. The dirt that came out wasn’t so easy to scrub away.

But what was more surprising was that the usually arrogant gossip bloggers and influencer-journalists also began posting apologies, saying it was all a misunderstanding and asking for Jiang Tingzhou’s forgiveness.

Their sarcastic posts were already deleted—but that wasn’t enough. These accounts, with hundreds of thousands or even millions of followers, were known for stirring up trouble and spreading rumors. And now, after their apologies, official sanctions were announced.

The one who started the firestorm got a three-year ban straight away. Their follower count plummeted. Searching the original topic again showed that many of the malicious posts targeting Jiang Tingzhou were already wiped. The troll accounts with the worst comments were outright banned.

The response was so fast that An Xiaoping almost wondered if the internet battle last night was a dream.

Yes, it was true that officials occasionally did some cleanup in the name of “cybersecurity.” These people just happened to step on the landmine at the wrong time. But for the cleanup to be so swift, so thorough—even targeting big-name accounts that usually paid “protection fees”—something about it didn’t sit right.

Tian Hui hurriedly checked and said, “Our news is still up, and it’s even pinned at the top of the topic page. This…”

This was truly something she had never seen before.

Jiang Tingzhou frowned, and at that moment, his phone rang.

His phone was turned off until now. He only turned it back on to add Tian Hui on WeChat. As soon as it powered up, a flood of missed calls and messages came through, freezing the phone for a while. He ignored them all—things at the restaurant were already a mess, and he didn’t have time to be distracted.

The caller now showing on his screen was Lu Baiyu.

—If it was this well-connected President Lu, pulling off something like this really would be effortless.

Lu Baiyu.

He stared at the name for a long while.

Taking a roundabout approach was a strategy Jiang Tingzhou used when he didn’t have enough power. But for someone like Lu Baiyu, it wasn’t necessary.

Seeing the name of his ex-boyfriend—technically, at this point in time, still his current boyfriend—Jiang Tingzhou froze for a moment, then instinctively hung up.

He just hung up like that, leaving An Xiaoping stunned for a moment.

He saw the caller ID. As a friend, An Xiaoping naturally knew who Lu Baiyu was—and he was well aware of how much that man meant to Jiang Tingzhou. He believed that one of the main reasons Jiang Tingzhou refused to leave the Jiang family was Lu Baiyu.

No need to think too much — the things on the hot search must have been done by this little Mr. Lu. Normally, Jiang Tingzhou would be happy to realize this, since Lu Baiyu was extremely important to him. But today…

The moment he hung up, the phone only stayed quiet for a little while before ringing again.

There was no escaping it. Even blocking the number wouldn’t work—another number would just call. He couldn’t leave his phone turned off forever.

He thought about it and decided to answer.

The person on the other end was Lu Baiyu’s secretary, who respectfully called him Young Master Jiang and whispered, “He answered,” then handed the phone over.

“Tingzhou?”

It had been a long time since he heard that voice.

When Lu Baiyu heard no response, he asked again, “Are you still having a fever?”

Jiang Tingzhou stayed silent.

He didn’t know what to say.

After being reborn, facing his ex didn’t bring a rush of overwhelming emotion. Those intense feelings all ran their course in his previous life, leaving behind only silence. Now, what lingered was a faint, indescribable awkwardness and a sense of unease.

The only unusual feeling was a slight ache in his right hand. Even though there was no injury, it felt like some kind of psychosomatic reflex.

He moved his hand a little, and the feeling vanished.

“I’m fine now,” Jiang Tingzhou replied politely. “I just saw the situation online. Thank you for the help, President Lu. Sorry to trouble you.”

This time, it was Lu Baiyu’s turn to fall silent. “…What are you talking about?”

Jiang Tingzhou felt even more lost. He didn’t know what to say to his ex, whom he had been estranged from for so long.

Awkwardly, he started picking at the lint on the hospital bed quilt.

“It’s like this, Mr. Lu.” He organized his thoughts and finally decided to be direct. “I’ve thought things through carefully during this time. After serious consideration, I think it’s better if we break up.”

Lu Baiyu was quiet for a long while. His tone remained calm as he asked, “You’re angry? Are you upset I wasn’t there for you?”

Jiang Tingzhou answered honestly, “No.”

He spent most of the past few days sleeping off a fever. Whatever energy he had went to dealing with the chaos from the restaurant. He didn’t even remember to bring up the breakup until now.

Now that the call came, he figured he might as well get it over with and save future trouble.

“Okay, Tingzhou, stop making trouble,” Lu Baiyu said. “I know about the Jiang family’s problems, and I’ll help you solve them. We’ll talk about other things when I get back.”

That really wouldn’t be necessary.

Jiang Tingzhou wanted to say he could handle things himself and that their relationship was impulsive. It would be better for both to separate early, avoiding future fuss. Breaking up now might even let them stay friends later, which was best.

But Lu Baiyu didn’t give him a chance to explain—he had already hung up.

Lu Baiyu really was busy and didn’t have time to deal with something as trivial as emotions.

Jiang Tingzhou could even hear the background noise through the phone; he was probably still in a meeting and only stepped out briefly to make this call.

This business trip was about a multibillion-dollar deal. For him to go out of his way to handle a trending topic on Jiang Tingzhou’s behalf was already quite the effort.

Jiang Tingzhou didn’t call back. After all, he didn’t know how to explain that he wasn’t joking.

He was the one who fell hard, chased relentlessly for years, and finally got Lu Baiyu just a month ago. To suddenly say this now… Of course it sounded absurd.

The call hadn’t disconnected—it was transferred to the secretary.

Secretary Song worked for Lu Group for twenty years and was highly trusted by the Lu family.

Not only did the outside world not know about Jiang Tingzhou and Lu Baiyu’s relationship—neither did the Lu parents—but Secretary Song was fully aware. Her tone was soft but firm as she spoke: “Master Jiang, Mr. Lu does have important business discussions now. He’s also very concerned about your illness. It’s just that your phone has been unreachable lately. Mr. Lu has been worried and called the hospital to confirm you don’t accept visitors. The doctor said you’re recovering well and it’s nothing serious. He was relieved and asked his contacts to handle the online issues. Please understand him and don’t be willful right now.”

It sounded like an explanation, but her tone was condescending, especially the last sentence—like a parent scolding a child.

Twenty-two-year-old Jiang Tingzhou used to be a little afraid of her and tried many times to please her.

But at thirty-two, there was nothing to fear.

“Secretary Song, let me give you a piece of advice: know your place,” he said. “No matter how Lu Baiyu and I are related, it’s not your place to control me. If you have time to lecture me here, why not tell him quickly that I want to break up, and don’t bother me again, so we can all have peace.”