The Reviled God of Cooking Tries to Slack Off - Chapter 94

“The sugar factory and the other two companies are looking for people to taste their new potato products. I thought—why not do a small event together?”

As Jiang Tingzhou spoke, his phone vibrated repeatedly. New messages from Zhou Bing and Du Juan flashed across the screen. He glanced at them and added with a smile, “Looks like they’re quite satisfied.”

Qin Rushuang remarked, “Who wouldn’t be? With an event like this?”

Even if the food was free, how much could attendees realistically eat? The venue, staff, and ingredients were already arranged. Spending just a few thousand—maybe tens of thousands—on an event like this was a bargain for the level of product promotion it delivered.

Jiang Tingzhou continued, smiling, “As for distribution, your company’s detailed classification of potato varieties really stands out. The most important thing is that they’re shipped directly from the place of origin—authentic and affordable. That’s your core advantage.”

Even the simplest detail—like a printed description on a paper bowl—was broadcast live. The host introduced it on camera, and the camera even zoomed in for a few close-ups. Sure, everyone knew it was an ad, but it perfectly matched the event’s theme.

Jiang Tingzhou noticed the livestream comments scrolling in:

【“Wow, so there are actually that many types of potatoes?”】

【“Now that I think about it, the fried potatoes I had in Yunnan and Guizhou really did taste different from the ones here.”】

【“Wait—Lu Group specializes in potatoes? I didn’t know that.”】

This was just the beginning. For a newly launched app like Lu Group’s Fresh Produce, it wasn’t just about attracting traffic and attention—it needed to stand out from competing platforms and quickly establish dominance in its niche.

Lu Group’s app interface reflected this strategy perfectly.

Unlike typical platforms overcrowded with merchants of varying quality, Lu Group’s product pages were clean and simple, with detailed explanations of origin and quality. Some even featured live feeds from the farms themselves. Once customers noticed the difference and experienced it, Lu Group’s advantages would be obvious.

Jiang Tingzhou and Lu Baiyu hadn’t exchanged many words, but Jiang Tingzhou understood all of this perfectly.

Listening to him, Qin Rushuang had only one thought: “They’re so similar.”

Not only had they managed to turn this cooking competition—previously only known within industry circles and ignored—and turned it into something captivating, but they had  planned it to the last detail, valuing every second of attention.

She couldn’t help but sigh. Truly, comparison kills. Compared to them, her own son Lu Jiahe was just… useless noise.

That loud, useless son of hers, Lu Jiahe, really needed to suffer more setbacks.

“Tingzhou, if you need anything in the future, just say it. Lu Group will follow your lead,” Qin Rushuang said with genuine admiration. “Baiyu would be overjoyed if he knew. Honestly, if you—”

She stopped herself. What she wanted to say was: If you’re willing to come to Lu Group, just name your terms. But she swallowed the words at the last second.

Now that she understood how careful she had to be, she wouldn’t risk upsetting Jiang Tingzhou with even a hint of pressure.

Jiang Tingzhou smiled faintly. “Didn’t President Qin arrange the trending topic? I appreciate the trouble.”

He made no mention of anyone else, and Qin Rushuang didn’t dare bring it up either. She opened her mouth, paused, then simply replied, “Alright.”

She didn’t stay long after that. With other tasks to handle, she prepared to leave—only to run straight into Lu Baiyu outside the conference room. He had just finished a prior meeting.

Qin Rushuang immediately stopped him. “You bought the trending topic, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” Lu Baiyu admitted. “Did things go well for Tingzhou?”

“How could they not?” she shot back. “Why did you arrange everything in advance without telling me?”

His timing had been precise—too precise.

“It’s nothing. Once I knew the topic, I could plan ahead. The few GIFs didn’t even need me to crop them,” Lu Baiyu replied. “Since he chose potatoes, wasn’t this the expected effect of the competition?”

He hadn’t even needed to be at the event to predict how it would unfold.

Qin Rushuang, having just heard Jiang Tingzhou’s insights, found Lu Baiyu’s words surprisingly aligned. She frowned and asked, “Then why didn’t you go today?”

Normally, he would’ve rearranged his schedule to see Jiang Tingzhou. But this time, he hadn’t shown up.

“He doesn’t want to see me.” Lu Baiyu lowered his head and stared at the documents in his hand. “As long as I can help him, it’s fine if I stay away. Maybe he’s happier that way.”

He hadn’t given up—not at all. He would continue doing everything he could. But when it came to Jiang Tingzhou, there were limits. That man’s heart had always been distant. They could be partners, maybe even friends—but that was all. Any attempt to go deeper met a wall of ice.

Still, knowing all that didn’t make it hurt any less.

Jiang Tingzhou’s words from before still echoed in his mind, making his chest tighten with every memory. Even now, he couldn’t stop thinking about him.

Trying to lighten the mood, Qin Rushuang forwarded him the “easter egg” portion of the event—footage of the snack stand that appeared after the competition.

“It’s just a soft advertisement,” she said, “but it’s really clever. I’m going to show it to others at the company.”

This was the first time Lu Baiyu had seen the footage.

No matter how much he tried to keep things strictly “business,” the moment something involved Jiang Tingzhou, he softened.

As he watched, something else caught his eye.

The printing on the bowl included explanations and distinctions between types of potatoes. For visual appeal, a cartoon version of a little potato character was drawn in the corner—like a child’s doodle: round potato bodies, bean-like eyes, in various shapes and sizes, cute and chubby.

It was subtle, but the moment Lu Baiyu saw it, he knew: Jiang Tingzhou had drawn it.

As a chef, Jiang could carve lifelike dragons from carrots. Drawing something like this was child’s play for him. In fact, Lu Baiyu remembered similar doodles from a past life.

This was unmistakably his style.

It had nothing to do with business cooperation, and most people wouldn’t notice. But Lu Baiyu noticed.

The rest of Qin Rushuang’s words faded into static. His mind buzzed as countless thoughts flooded in. Subconsciously, he scrolled further down the link she had sent.

More content had been refreshed.

Audience reposts, competition commentary—and a flood of posts centered on Jiang Tingzhou.

Zhou Bing, riding the wave, had posted nine selfies—eight of which featured Jiang Tingzhou. The last one was a photo of a dish Jiang had made. His caption read:

【“New products from Bingcheng Chao are hitting the shelves! Thank you to my biggest contributor, my lucky star!”】

Wen Qi, not to be outdone, even created a social media account—despite rarely using any before.

He posted a 10-second video. In it, he stood beside Jiang Tingzhou, gaze fixed on him rather than the camera. His voice was unusually soft:

“Mr. Jiang, today’s match went really well. The audience is so curious—what will the next round be like?”

Jiang Tingzhou glanced at the camera, smiling faintly. “The next round tests heat control. Take a guess.”

An Xiaoping, with the most fans of all, posted a short video from backstage: “I love staying next to my brother the most. Super proud of him!”

Lu Baiyu stared at the screen. His fingers moved with practiced ease: download, crop, mosaic everyone else out. He saved only Jiang Tingzhou’s face, then marked the other content as “not interested.”

Not only that—he planned to hire someone to bump down those trending posts. They needed to be buried.

Hmph. Everyone’s acting like they’re special to Jiang Tingzhou. Who do you think you are?

Whatever happened between him and Jiang Tingzhou, it was no one else’s business.

Just as he was about to ask Qin Rushuang for more details, her phone rang—it was a call from her son, Lu Jiahe.

She hadn’t seen him in a while.

Lu Zhenting still hadn’t relented. Lu Jiahe’s days of training at the bottom rung and living on his own salary weren’t ending anytime soon. Too many people in the company knew who he was, so he had recently been transferred elsewhere. The last time they met, he’d been more composed.

Now, he called under the pretense of work—but didn’t hang up after finishing. There was a pause before he asked, “I heard Lu Group is working with Jiang Tingzhou now. How’s he… doing?”

The conference room was quiet. Only the two of them were there, and Lu Baiyu could clearly hear the call.

At first, Qin Rushuang thought her son was rehashing old grudges, so she answered, “Don’t even think about it. He’s doing fine.”

“I know,” Lu Jiahe replied. Then, after another pause, he asked something odd: “…Is my brother busy lately?”

Qin Rushuang glanced at Lu Baiyu beside her. “…I guess so?”

Sensing something off, she quickly made an excuse and hung up. But Lu Jiahe soon received a new voice message—not from her, but from Lu Baiyu.

“Don’t even think about it.”

“Lu Jiahe, mind your own damn business. Otherwise, you’ll be stuck out there for the rest of your life.”

Yes, Lu Jiahe had indeed matured somewhat. His hands didn’t shake when he got that threatening voice message. He managed to keep his composure. At least this time, he didn’t drop his phone in a cold sweat.

As for Jiang Tingzhou, after the first round of the competition ended, he was swamped with messages—congratulations, questions, requests for partnerships.

He didn’t waste time on any of that.

Instead, after the match, he sat quietly reviewing the thick stack of contestant profiles.