The Reviled God of Cooking Tries to Slack Off - Chapter 84

When Zhao Teng heard this, he not only slammed the table but also stood up in anger.

“Jiang Tingzhou, how long have you even been here? How dare you say that to me?!” he fumed. “So what if your recent products are selling well? Our company has been performing for over ten years. You—”

“You’re right,” Jiang Tingzhou nodded calmly. “It just so happens that this year, the top-selling products weren’t yours.”

He understood why Zhao Teng was so furious. It wasn’t just the product competition. Zhao Teng had tried—and failed—to poach the sugar factory’s masters, while several of his own had been poached instead. As a result, his company had barely launched any new products this year.

On top of that, now that Jiang Mali had stepped back, the vacant position in the association was highly coveted. Zhao Teng had intended to place one of his own business partners—but who would have thought Jiang Tingzhou would intervene?

From the very beginning, Jiang hadn’t bowed his head. Even though he sat at the end of the table, he gave no face to Zhao Teng, the vice president. His words became more cutting with each exchange, infuriating Zhao Teng to the point that he forgot his dignity.

“Alright, alright, that’s enough. We’re not here to argue,” President Zhong interjected, waving his hand and signaling Zhao Teng to sit. “Let’s focus on business. This competition is an important event for our association. President Liu has always taken it seriously. If no one supports it, our branch won’t be able to report back.”

They all knew it was hard to justify the expense. On paper, a chef competition like this wasn’t profitable. Ticket sales from the audience barely made a dent. Most of the sponsorship money went elsewhere.

At this point, everyone glanced around but remained silent. They all knew the competition was never short of funds. Liu Ping, who valued the event deeply, paid out of his own pocket every year. The competition was even named after his mineral water company—“Xiushui Cup.”

From the ingredients to the venue and accommodations for the chefs, everything came from Liu’s resources. The local branch only had to cover minor costs. And this year marked the 20th anniversary. He’d even arranged for the finals to be broadcast on TV, which meant extra expenses. But Liu Ping was wealthy—spending tens of millions was nothing to him. Five million was hardly worth mentioning.

President Zhong, seeing the hesitation in the room, offered a sweetener: “How about this—I’ll add a bonus. My company will be sending out New Year’s gift boxes to employees. I’ll throw in a batch of those. Also, I can provide shelf space in our beverage chain stores. If you sponsor this event, it means you’re cooperating with me. Plus, President Liu will attend the finals. If it goes well, our Yongqing branch still needs a new Vice President.”

Now that was tempting.

Zhao Teng’s eyes lit up. “Well, since President Zhong put it that way, I’m in. Fast-food beverages are still hot sellers, and you’ve got a ton of stores. A good product could hit five million in sales in a few months. My company just launched a new drink…”

Someone else chimed in at the mention of the vice president seat: “Chairman, count me in too.”

The sugar factory also had new drinks. Peanut milk and the cocoa series had recently been scaled up. Jiang Tingzhou had been considering sponsoring the competition anyway. Just as he was about to speak, someone beside him reached under the table and tugged his sleeve.

He turned and saw a young man—probably a college student—who looked like a bit of a rebel with earrings in both ears, yet wore a serious expression.

“Don’t speak yet,” the man whispered. “Think it through.”

Jiang Tingzhou glanced at the nameplate: “Bingcheng Chao.” He knew the brand—it was similar to President Zhong’s company—a stir-fry restaurant chain specializing in Chao cuisine. The name beside it read: Zhou Bing.

There were 18 people on the association board: one president, two vice presidents, and the rest filled by other key figures.

Jiang Tingzhou and Zhou Bing sat at the end of the table—far from where Jiang Xin had sat before. Zhou Bing had leaned in and spoke in a low voice.

Despite the warning, Jiang Tingzhou smiled and said, “Mr. Zhong, I’m willing to sponsor the competition.”

Zhao Teng immediately scoffed. “I’ll pay more—another 500,000!”

“Ten million,” Jiang Tingzhou countered. “There’s more than one title sponsor slot—I’ll take two.”

That would make him the second-largest investor after Liu Ping’s Xiushui brand.

Wen Qi, who stood nearby, looked stunned and tugged at him lightly, signaling he was being too aggressive. Normally, a sponsorship like this cost only a few hundred thousand. Spending twenty times that far exceeded the sugar factory’s marketing budget.

President Zhong’s smile widened. “Mr. Jiang, how generous. I’ll report Yongqing Sugar Factory as a sponsor—”

“I’ll speak to the organizers myself later,” Jiang Tingzhou replied.

Once President Zhong announced it, there was no backing out.

Zhao Teng scoffed. “You’re really going through with it?” He gave Jiang Tingzhou a once-over, shaking his head. “Trying to curry favor with President Liu using money?”

“This competition has been running for years—it has its own value,” Jiang Tingzhou replied. “Vice President Zhao, perhaps it’s your vision that needs improvement.”

Zhao Teng sneered. “Let’s see what you’re really capable of.”

After the meeting, Zhao Teng was the first to leave. President Zhong came over to Jiang Tingzhou and gently said, “Don’t take what he said to heart—I’ll speak to him.”

But after he left, Zhou Bing leaned in. “You were tricked by these people.”

Another person, who had remained in her seat, came forward too. She was older, with neatly combed long hair and black-framed glasses. “Mr. Jiang, don’t trust them so easily. Even President Zhong isn’t what he appears. He and Zhao Teng are cut from the same cloth.”

Jiang recognized her—Du Juan, head of “Haoshi” instant noodles, a long-established local brand near the sugar factory.

“Don’t be fooled by Zhong’s kind words,” Zhou Bing added. “Those gift packages? Worth maybe a few thousand. The drinks on his shelves might sell well, sure, but the profit cuts are tiny—barely anything left for you. All the money goes to him. And that Vice President title? It’s an empty promise. He’s just trying to fulfill an assignment. Zhao Teng and the others are just pretending to compete—they’d never spend a dime. They baited you into it.”

Even Wen Qi had seen through it, but in front of so many people, he couldn’t contradict Jiang Tingzhou directly.

“I know,” Jiang Tingzhou said.

But Jiang Tingzhou seem panicked. Instead, he asked, “Mr. Zhou, Ms. Du, thank you for your honesty. But let me ask you—if you two are experienced and capable, why are you sitting in the back like me?”

The sugar factory was new to the association—sitting in the back was understandable. But these two?

“Simple. We’ve offended people,” Zhou Bing said. “Haven’t you noticed how cliquey this place is? The front-row crowd is all in on it together. My dad couldn’t stand them, so I just attend meetings without playing nice. I thought you had a good temper—you always smiled during your livestreams. I didn’t expect you to fight back and offend them right away.”

Jiang Tingzhou chuckled. “You watch my streams?”

“I’ve been following you for a while,” Zhou Bing admitted, ears slightly red. “You look even better in person.”

But now wasn’t the time for that.

Zhou Bing straightened up, tone turning serious. “This association isn’t like it used to be. It used to be about sharing and helping each other. Now? It’s all about stepping on others. You got burned once—don’t let it happen again.”

Du Juan also sympathized. Since her factory and the sugar factory weren’t in direct competition, and she knew how hard things were for newcomers, she stuck around to offer advice.

“Thank you,” Jiang Tingzhou said sincerely. “I know this was all provocation. But… why can’t I be genuinely interested in the competition itself?”

Jiang Tingzhou knew far more than they did—he had been a contestant in his past life.

Compared to the previous run, this was a rare opportunity. The competition’s ratings would be much better than expected.

It had originally been scheduled for the afternoon, but a Friday 9 p.m. show got pulled last minute. The station needed a replacement, and this chef competition was slotted in. While 9 p.m. wasn’t prime time, it was leagues better than an afternoon slot.

This year’s competition was stronger too—with many talented chefs and more pressure than even the CCTV contest. Jiang Tingzhou had struggled, but he’d won, silencing his haters and proving his worth.

Back then, people only watched to criticize him—but ended up respecting his skills.

The finals had the highest ratings among all satellite TV shows in that slot. From an advertising standpoint, the return would be huge. If he’d tried to buy that kind of ad space directly from the station, it would’ve cost more than ten million.

He’d never outbid Liu Ping for the title sponsorship, but he could snatch up all the other spots. It was a steal.

“I saw your names on the sponsor list—you contribute every year,” Jiang Tingzhou said to the two. “You know this competition well. Why don’t we join forces this year and go all in?”

Zhou Bing was stunned. He hadn’t expected Jiang Tingzhou to truly commit this much money.

“Wait—why are you doing this?” he asked.

Jiang Tingzhou smiled. “You’re a good cook, aren’t you? Can’t you trust me just this once? Maybe… just maybe… it’ll be worth it.”