After Zhao Shen completed the card transaction with flair, he departed without any of the melodramatic confrontations one might expect, such as summoning his former manager to confront him.
For, after tasting the so-called "gourmet" dishes at the five-star hotel, he suddenly realized that nothing warranted such a reaction from him.
It felt as if an elephant had crushed an ant—insignificant and trivial. Embarking on the path of a culinary master was akin to opening a new chapter in his life; why should he bother with those still entrenched in the mundane?
Different planes of existence, diverging paths, a chasm separating the heavens from the earth.
...
"How infuriating!" the young waitress thought as she cleaned up. She remembered how the customer had hesitated, pulling out cash only to ultimately use his card, completely ignoring her careful demeanor, fearful he might dine and dash.
Zhao Shen's keen eyes had not missed her subtle movements, maintaining distance and sealing off her escape route.
"What are you doing? Get back to work! Why are you standing there in a daze?" The floor manager, noticing the girl lost in thought while staring at the nearly untouched food on the table, barked at her.
"Look, the customer ordered all specialty dishes, and he hardly touched anything," the girl timidly indicated the nearly untouched spread before Zhao Shen.
"Hmm? In that case, make a list. I'll take a look shortly," the manager replied thoughtfully, instructing the waitress to handle the situation discreetly.
He then summoned several servers to transport the dishes back to the kitchen.
The hotel's floor manager swiftly delivered the list to the lobby manager, who subsequently reported the matter to the administrative department.
Ultimately, the chef was summoned to the general manager's office.
"Hong Lei, do you think this person is a food critic or just here to nitpick?"
Upon the chef's arrival, the general manager pointed at the surveillance footage of Zhao Shen dining displayed on the computer.
Chef Hong Lei, unlike the typical overweight chefs, bore a friendly smile and possessed shrewd, twinkling eyes—he was a man of considerable charm and masculinity!
He approached to observe the footage.
...
"From his attire, he doesn't quite resemble a critic, but I can't be certain. Has anyone mentioned a visit for tasting?" Zhao Shen was dressed in a simple down jacket, appearing quite ordinary; if he were to critique, he should at least dress the part.
At times, he expressed astonishment, while at others, he frowned and shook his head, resembling those critics featured in food magazines. This left Hong Lei hesitant to draw conclusions.
The general manager scrutinized the footage again, and upon finding nothing conclusive, he told the chef, "In that case, prepare a few more dishes over the next couple of days. I'll see if we can attract any magazine coverage. If we can get featured in a food recommendation, it would be quite beneficial."
"Absolutely."
Hong Lei readily agreed, noting the young man's sudden expressions of surprise in the footage. Initially astonished by the restoration of his taste, Zhao Shen's reactions were mistakenly interpreted as amazement at the flavors of the dishes. However, Hong Lei, with a fiery temperament, felt a tinge of annoyance that this young man had tasted only a sip of his soup and then shaken his head. He held firm confidence in his culinary skills and resolved to create some remarkable dishes to win him over.
Had the HR manager been present, they would have instantly recognized this young man as the one they had recently dismissed.
Zhao Shen himself could not have anticipated that the very person who had been cast out would, in a low-key manner, create ripples of influence within the hotel.
Not only had the general manager been alerted, but even the hotel's elusive five-star chef had been stirred by such events.
As Zhao Shen exited the hotel, he noted that time was slipping away; he intended to head home, as his gaming bed was scheduled for delivery in the afternoon.
...
He closed his eyes, resting as the vehicle glided smoothly along the road. The driver was diligent, taking a straightforward route that led Zhao Shen back to his community on the southern bank.
Just as he disembarked, he received a sudden phone call.
"Hello, is this Mr. Zhao? Your gaming bed is on its way." Zhao Shen was taken aback; the voice sounded somewhat familiar—wasn't it the buxom saleswoman from the Simulated Life sales department?
Shouldn't such post-sale matters be handled by the delivery department?
"Ah, yes, thank you," Zhao Shen replied courteously.
"Not a problem! The delivery person will contact you shortly. By the way, could you share your gaming ID? I also play Simulated Life!" Her voice carried a playful tone, though his mind immediately recalled her striking figure.
Indeed, how intriguing!
"My ID is blah blah blah, but I'm only at level 23, so don't judge me too harshly." At this stage, level 23 was quite respectable; she was among the first players, yet Zhao Shen remained somewhat humble.
"That's alright; I'm Zhao Shen, and I'm only at level 5."
...
Only level 5, yet he could afford a gaming bed?
The buxom saleswoman clicked her tongue after ending the call. "Well, this makes things interesting; he'll soon be at my mercy!" She playfully shook her fists, already plotting how to charm this handsome, affluent level 5 player.
Sure enough, within twenty minutes, the delivery person arrived at Zhao Shen's home with the Optimus Prime gaming bed, enthusiastically assisting him with the installation.
Meanwhile, Mu Yichun, who had been meandering through the market, was lamenting, wondering whether to starve all day if Zhao Shen didn't show up in the evening.
It was hardly new for him to go without a meal; he was accustomed to working long hours without food. However, now that he had tasted Zhao Shen's culinary creations, the hunger was manageable, but the craving was utterly unbearable!
Unbeknownst to Zhao Shen, after the delivery person left, he eagerly sank into his luxurious gaming bed, relishing this extravagant purchase of 88,888 yuan. He almost felt compelled to savor it.
He instructed the delivery person to take away the old gaming pod; otherwise, his modest 55.8 square meter room would feel rather cramped. He had intended to sell his old bed; with the arrival of Optimus Prime, it would be more than sufficient.
By the time he finally logged into the game, it was already four o'clock in the afternoon.
As soon as he entered, he was bombarded with messages from Mu Yichun. Before he could read them carefully, he heard voices in his ears.
...
"Boss Zhao, where have you been today? Why did you arrive so late?"
Before his stall, dozens of familiar faces awaited him.
"Boss, hurry and serve the fried rice! If you don't come soon, the entire market will drown in saliva!"
"Yesterday, I heard from a friend that you have a new dish. I missed out on that golden fried rice and have been waiting all day!"
"Hey, squeeze in, don't push!"
Everyone chimed in, each voice rising above the other, while others pressed closer to Zhao Shen.
"Fried rice... the glowing fried rice..."
The clamoring voices rose and fell, and the crowd swelled, as if Zhao Shen's absence in the morning had ignited a wave of eager patrons. Among them were not a few charming, youthful women. If they were men, it wouldn't matter, but when lovely ladies cooed, Zhao Shen felt compelled to oblige.