The Game of Life

Chapter 557: Chapter 555 Zheng Siyuan

In the adjacent private room, Zhou Chang and Ouyang Yang had a similar reaction. Although they were wealthy and had sophisticated palates, due to regional differences, they had hardly ever tried chicken tofu pudding. The disparity between the taste and the visual impact was significantly greater for them than it was for Xu Cheng and Han Guishan’s family.

After finishing the meal, Ouyang Yang remained speechless for a long time.

“Little sister, use my membership card to reserve a room for tomorrow at noon,” Ouyang Yang said, turning to the waiter after setting down his spoon.

“Sure, Mr. Ouyang Yang, right? Membership card ending in 17. May I ask if this private room will do?” the waiter took out a notebook.

Ouyang Yang nodded.

“Ouyang, didn’t you book a flight back for tomorrow?” Zhou Chang asked.

“No rush, there’s nothing much to do back home, I’ll just change the ticket. Anyway, my wife isn’t at home; she went to Canada to visit my son the day before yesterday,” said Ouyang Yang, “Lately, the chefs at Jubao Building haven’t been focusing on their cooking, and the dishes they make… let’s just not talk about it. I’ll treat you to lunch tomorrow, and bring your wife and son too.”

Zhou Chang waved his hand with a smile, “Forget it. My son has been rebellious lately and hasn’t come home for several days. Calling him is like inviting a living ancestor over. I’ll ask my wife though. She’s from the South and isn’t accustomed to Northern cuisine. Every time I ask her to come to Taifeng Building, she refuses, preferring to have the housekeeper concoct some kind of wellness meals for her, just nibbling on vegetable leaves.”

“It’s the same everywhere. My wife has been doing the same for the past couple of years, always eating vegetable salads and fruit salads, all the rage. I noticed that the menu here includes dishes from Gusu, which should suit your wife’s tastes. Little sister, did a new chef join your restaurant?” Ouyang Yang inquired.

“We do have two chefs who came from Gusu, previously working at Huang Ji Restaurant,” the waiter replied.

“See, Huang Ji Restaurant, no worries there.”

“That’s not saying much unless Master Huang himself came over. I ate there once before Huang Ji Restaurant was sold last year, and it really wasn’t what it used to be. No wonder it was put up for sale so quickly,” Zhou Chang said somewhat nostalgically, “Just think, when we were kids, Huang Ji Restaurant had such a reputation. You were in Guangdong Province and I was in Beiping; even though we were so far apart, we both had heard of it. It was featured in the first issue of the ‘Taste’ magazine, but now it’s closed down just like that.”

“Indeed,” Ouyang Yang felt the same way, “Just like Eight-treasure House. When I first met you, which banquet or business cooperation didn’t involve treating people at Eight-treasure House? Now Eight-treasure House has also declined. Even you don’t go there much anymore.”

“Still, Eight-treasure House is doing better than Huang Ji Restaurant. Though the chefs’ skills are lacking, Ling Guangzhao has good business acumen and has earned quite a bit,” Ouyang Yang reflected, “I heard that in recent times, their dim sum has been selling well, so they’re probably considering a change in business model.”

Zhou Chang gave a wry smile, chose not to speak further, and quietly continued with his meal.

Ling Guangzhao was unaware of how outsiders perceived him; recently, he had been contemplating whose corner to poach.

Lately, thanks to the white case dim sum of Zheng Siyuan, Eight-treasure House had experienced a rebirth like a phoenix rising from the ashes in Beiping, reestablishing its reputation. With many years of good standing nearly destroyed, and a solid customer base, it quickly became packed with visitors.

Ling Guangzhao was looking over the financial statements for the entire past year.

It was a financial statement that would bring a smile to anyone’s face, and Ling Guangzhao, as the owner of the statement, was naturally ecstatic.

Ling Guangzhao went over the financial statement again.

Twice over.

Just as Ling Guangzhao was preparing to go over it for the third time, someone knocked on the door of his office.

“Come in,” Ling Guangzhao said, slipping the statement underneath the bottom of a pile of papers and pretentiously opening the topmost file to appear busy.

Zheng Siyuan walked into Ling Guangzhao’s office.

Unlike Lu Sheng, who had crammed his office with monitors and stuck tea leaves everywhere making it look as chaotic as a storeroom, Ling Guangzhao’s office resembled the traditional, domineering CEO’s office one might see in a TV series.

Though smaller than those seen on television, the office was elegantly and simply decorated and featured the floor-to-ceiling windows characteristic of a Boss’s office.

No one knew why Ling Guangzhao had installed a floor-to-ceiling window in his less-than-20-square-meter office on the second floor—perhaps he just liked it.

“Mr. Ling,” Zheng Siyuan approached Ling Guangzhao, “I’d like to request a day off.”

“Has work been too exhausting lately? Do you want to take a few more days off?” Ling Guangzhao asked with concern. Zheng Siyuan was his treasure trove—nice temperament, high work efficiency. As a competent businessman, he couldn’t bear the thought of even the slightest mishap befalling his treasure trove.

“No, it’s that my master’s senior brother has arrived. My dad called me just now to ask me to visit him tomorrow; it seems he’s feeling a bit unwell from air sickness,” Zheng Siyuan explained.

“Master Huang has come to Beiping, is anyone accompanying him?” Ling Guangzhao’s face lit up with surprise, “Since Master Huang is here, you should go take good care of him. I’ll give you two days off. You haven’t had much rest recently, and you can use this chance to get some rest. If Master Huang still doesn’t feel well, contact me at any time; I have connections in the hospital.”

Zheng Siyuan had long grown accustomed to Ling Guangzhao’s enthusiastic demeanor. In fact, from the first time he met Ling Guangzhao, he was so enthusiastic that it was somewhat disconcerting.

Zheng Siyuan felt he would never forget the day he met Ling Guangzhao. Thinking back on it now, he still found it quite wondrous. He had simply been, as usual, selling pastries at the modest shop located at the entrance of a residential area in Gusu, his hometown. Though their shop had a good reputation, because of its location and size, it wasn’t famous, and the customers were mainly locals from Gusu.

It was 3 p.m., and the mooncakes had just come out of the oven. He sat by the window, playing with his phone and waiting for customers to come in, still wearing his apron, with sleeves stained with flour and filling leftovers from making pastries.

In such a state, he met Ling Guangzhao.

Ling Guangzhao was dressed in a neat suit, with an expression that suggested he had just faced a setback. After entering the shop without looking at the price list, he directly asked Zheng Siyuan for pastry recommendations.

Zheng Siyuan recommended the freshly baked pork mooncakes and plum blossom cakes, of which Ling Guangzhao bought a half pound each.

Zheng Siyuan packaged the pastries and reminded Ling Guangzhao that the pork mooncakes, being freshly baked, were best eaten hot for freshness. Ling Guangzhao then casually grabbed a paper bag-wrapped pork mooncake and took a bite.

Then, Ling Guangzhao uttered the sentence that would change the trajectory of Zheng Siyuan’s future.

“Excuse me, master, have you ever heard of Eight-treasure House in Beiping?”

Utterly enthusiastic.

Zheng Siyuan had been fond of making pastries since he was young, a point on which he completely differed from his father. Although his father was also a disciple of Master Huang and an extremely skilled Master White Chef, he found after the state-run hotel closed that his love for money was far greater than his love for culinary arts, so he went into business.

Zheng Siyuan loved making pastries, was not in need of money, did not like being constrained by others, and on top of that, lacked a natural talent for business, which was why he had always been content running a small pastry shop at the entrance of the residential area without any plans to expand the family business.

After his master’s Huang Ji Restaurant began struggling and was about to be put up for sale, Zheng Siyuan became even more convinced about sticking to his small pastry shop at the residential area’s entrance.

He neither sought wealth nor fame; he just wanted to make pastries happily.

As for why he suddenly changed his mind, Zheng Siyuan himself couldn’t quite explain. Perhaps it was because that day, Ling Guangzhao had been exceptionally enthusiastic and a great talker. With just a few words, he had charmed him, and Zheng Siyuan followed Ling Guangzhao to Beiping in a daze.

“By the way, Mr. Ling, there’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you,” said Zheng Siyuan.

“Go ahead.”

“Why did you think to look for me in Gusu last year?” Zheng Siyuan inquired, “I mean, you hadn’t heard of it before, had you?”

Ling Guangzhao paused for a moment, then replied, “I hadn’t heard of it, but a friend mentioned your pastry shop, and I’d been wanting to visit. That day, I happened to be passing by and decided to stop in.”

“Anything else?”

“Nothing much, just curious and wanted to ask. I’m off to work now,” Zheng Siyuan said with a smile.

“Go on then. If you’re free tomorrow, let’s visit Master Huang together,” Ling Guangzhao smiled.

After Zheng Siyuan left, Ling Guangzhao pulled out the financial statements at the bottom of the pile and contentedly went through them again.

He wasn’t a fortune-telling immortal; how could he have known in advance that Zheng Siyuan had opened a pastry shop in Gusu? Moreover, if he had known about a Master White Chef like Zheng Siyuan beforehand, with his temperament, how could he have waited so long before going to Gusu.

Ling Guangzhao’s visit to Gusu had indeed been about recruiting talent, but not for Zheng Siyuan—it was for Master Huang’s senior apprentice.

After being rejected, Ling Guangzhao happened to pass by Zheng Siyuan’s pastry shop and felt a bit hungry, so he went in to buy something to eat.

But what of it?

Ling Guangzhao laid down the financial statements, content. He hummed a tune with ease.

A pearl in dust, identified by a discerning eye.

He truly was a genius.