Transmigrating Into A Sadistic Novel And Becoming A Master Of Painting Rosy Pictures - Chapter 42

The moment Duanmu Zhengjie spoke, the table fell silent.

The surrounding noise and the chefs’ frantic activity seemed to have nothing to do with their table.

Bian Yingning wasn’t sure why she felt guilty; her sweet smile was gone, and the relief from her earlier escape was short-lived as Hua Cancan pinched her again.

“Oof…” Oh my god!

Bian Yingning almost screamed, her toes curling as she endured the pain, her face turning red.

If she were guilty, she deserved a thunderbolt from heaven, not this torture at the hands of Hua Cancan!

Bian Yingning supported her forehead, realizing the terrifying power of female jealousy. Even friends could be jealous.

She reached for Hua Cancan’s hand, trying to loosen her grip, but cautiously, afraid of being noticed.

Under the table, one pinching, one holding, Bian Yingning’s palm was burning, but Hua Cancan felt her heart burning hotter – with anger.

How dare Bian Yingning, her sister for over a decade, go and cook for another woman without a word?

Despite the pain, she couldn’t ignore Duanmu Zhengjie’s words. Her voice trembling, Bian Yingning said, “Sister Duanmu… as long as you like it.”

Duanmu Zhengjie noticed the tremor in her voice and looked over, meeting Bian Yingning’s tearful eyes.

Duanmu Zhengjie: “…” She’d only given a compliment; it wasn’t worth tears. Was she that moved? She hadn’t been cold to her, so why this reaction to a simple compliment?

“If I have the chance, I’d love to try it again,” Duanmu Zhengjie offered an olive branch.

Normally, hearing such words from her idol would have made her jump for joy. But now… Bian Yingning pressed a finger to her lips, biting down to stifle a cry of pain. It hurt so much! Hua Cancan, this vicious woman, had twisted her flesh ninety degrees!

Duanmu Zhengjie couldn’t even pick up her chopsticks, watching Bian Yingning struggle to control her contorted face. Was she really this moved?

“Why wait? Bian Yingning and I have known each other for years, and I’ve never tasted her cooking. It seems Bian Yingning really likes Sister Duanmu.”

Hua Cancan chuckled, but her grip didn’t loosen, emphasizing the words “known each other for years.”

“Why don’t you make another one now? Let us all try your cooking and see how delicious it is…”

Duanmu Zhengjie immediately sensed Hua Cancan’s displeasure. Considering their relationship, she smiled lightly.

Just typical girl stuff – jealousy.

Bian Yingning, numb, couldn’t free herself. She changed tactics, tickling Hua Cancan’s waist.

It worked; Hua Cancan let go, twisting to avoid the attack, letting out an involuntary gasp. Everyone’s attention was drawn to them.

Hua Cancan: “…”

Shang Qingfeng was probably the only one aware of their little game. He saw their hands moving under the table, their faces flushed. He raised his wine glass, whispering to Shang Qinghui:

“Bian Yingning and Hua Cancan… their relationship is quite close.” He intended to heighten Shang Qinghui’s sense of urgency.

The Bian family would be run by Bian Yingning, and their close relationship meant the Bian and Hua families would be even closer, potentially threatening the Shang family’s position.

But Shang Qinghui’s reaction was strange. She coldly scanned the three, sneering, “A den of vipers, sycophants, and villains.”

Shang Qingfeng: “?”

In the awkward silence, Hua Cancan rubbed her nose, feigning a cough. “Sorry, I thought I was going to sneeze.”

She smiled at Bian Yingning. Bian Yingning felt like she was being told, “You’re finished.”

“It’s nothing, Sister Duanmu was just very kind to compliment me,” Bian Yingning tried to salvage the situation, affectionately hugging Hua Cancan and looking up at her pitifully.

“Don’t you dislike beef? I never made it for you. I didn’t expect you to want to try my cooking. What do you like? I’ll make it for you now!”

Now? Too late.

Hua Cancan pinched Bian Yingning’s face: “Don’t you know what I like?”

Shang Qinghui, who had been watching, touched her face. Bian Yingning had pinched her like that earlier.

Duanmu Zhengjie put down her chopsticks, watching Bian Yingning cling to Hua Cancan, her expression darkening.

Friends were friends, but could they maintain some distance?

Fortunately, Nangong Jin casually picked up some food, put it down untasted, and said, drawing everyone’s attention, “This is nothing special. I can cook better at home.”

Another awkward silence. Thanks to his provocation, Bian Yingning was no longer focused on apologizing to Hua Cancan. She stared at Nangong Jin, smiling politely: “Mr. Nangong, that’s quite hurtful. Let’s do this,”

She gestured, and a waiter approached. Without lowering her voice, she instructed, “Tell Manager Liu to add another stove. After they finish this dish, invite Mr. Nangong up. He says he’ll teach you what real cooking is, what real delicious food is. Said what you’re making is… rubbish.”

Nangong Jin: “…”

Bian Yingning’s words silenced Hua Cancan. She tasted the dish; even she had to admit it was good. She could settle things with Bian Yingning later, but anyone who dared to disrespect Bian Yingning in front of her was disrespecting her.

“Mr. Nangong is quite skilled,” Hua Cancan said sarcastically. “I’ll have to try your cooking.”

Everyone knew Nangong Jin had meant to insult Bian Yingning, but they’d turned his words against him.

A large chef appeared, and Bian Yingning gestured towards Nangong Jin. The chef stood beside him, looking down. Nangong Jin, usually imposing, looked small.

Diners turned their attention from the competition.

“What’s going on?”

“Why is the chef out here?”

“I don’t know. Are they going to fight?”

“I don’t think so.”

Bian Yingning swirled her wine: “Mr. Nangong, this is Chef Yu, who made the foie gras you just ate.”

Nangong Jin glared: “What are you trying to do?”

Bian Yingning raised her glass: “Don’t be nervous. You should be responsible for your words.”

Shang Qinghui remembered the words,

“You can eat whatever you want, but you can’t say whatever you want.” She suppressed a smile.

“Since you said our food isn’t as good as yours, please show us your skills. Let us learn from you.”

Nangong Jin stood: “So, Miss Bian can’t take criticism. I gave my opinion, and you’re aggressive. Do you lack confidence in your restaurant? Or in your future?”

“People have different tastes. You like your food; I don’t like this dish. Can’t I say I don’t like it? Or is your food beyond criticism?”

Nangong Jin made it seem like Bian Yingning was a spoiled brat who couldn’t tolerate criticism.

“Damn it, twisting words! Don’t you know what you’re saying?” Hua Cancan stood up, furious.

The judges turned to look.

Bian Yingning stopped Hua Cancan.

“You have the right to say you don’t like our food, but you don’t have the right to belittle it, saying it’s worse than yours.”

Bian Yingning remained calm, while Nangong Jin’s composure cracked.

“I accept that you don’t like it, but I don’t accept that we lack skill.”

“Do you think we’re deaf or have no memory?”

Nangong Jin was about to retort when someone else spoke.

“This is nothing special. I can cook better at home.” Everyone looked towards the source. Bian Yingning did too.

Shang Qinghui raised her chin: “That’s what you said, Mr. Nangong. That was sarcasm, not just an opinion.”

The crowd gasped.

“Wait, aren’t Shang Qinghui and Nangong Jin engaged? The Nangong family always looked down on others because of their connection to the Shang family. Why isn’t Shang Qinghui defending him?”

“Wow, this is intense!”

“The Shang and Nangong families are breaking up!”