The Self-Cultivation of a Reborn Massage Therapist

Chapter 263 Eat

As dusk settled, Zheng Lingling had finished her delicious dinner. She still needed to pack her bags and cancel her lease. Sister Guoguo on the phone said she would come to pick her up later.

Zhao Xiaochui was eating heartily by himself in a corner of the banquet, which was a bit rude, because the big boss was stingy and hadn't paid for his lunch.

So, in order to avoid my stomach growling when I socialize later, I have to start eating before the other guests.

The waiter still wore an impeccable professional smile, but the strange look in his beautiful eyes from Zhao Xiaochui's downing of the Buddha Jumps Over the Wall had not yet completely subsided.

Zhao Xiaochui wiped his mouth with a napkin, looked at the waiter in front of him, and suddenly asked a question that seemed out of place at the dinner party.

"How long can this meal keep you earning money?"

The waitress's smile froze for a moment; she had clearly never been asked such a question by a customer before.

She quickly adjusted her expression, bowed slightly, and replied with near-perfect words: "Sir, you flatter us. It is our honor to serve our distinguished guest here."

“I’m not joking.” Zhao Xiaochui’s eyes were serious, without any mockery or scrutiny, just pure curiosity. “How much would that small bowl of soup be in money?”

His directness left the waitress somewhat bewildered. Her usual smooth talk for all customers was completely ineffective in front of Zhao Xiaochui.

She paused for a moment before speaking in a lower voice, as if sharing a secret: "Sir, our monthly salary might not even be enough to buy that small bowl of soup. But the greatest reward of working here isn't the salary."

She didn't finish her sentence, but her meaning was clear.

Zhao Xiaochui nodded and didn't ask any further questions.

He leaned to the side, peering out through the gaps in the branches of the Podocarpus macrophyllus. The courtyard was becoming increasingly crowded, filled with elegantly dressed people, their laughter and chatter creating a lively atmosphere, but everyone tacitly maintained a distance from his secluded corner.

In his view, these so-called VIPs were busy with their own social interactions and it seemed that no one was paying attention to his corner.

Since that's the case, he doesn't need to be polite anymore.

Zhao Xiaochui stood up and walked silently but quickly to the buffet table.

In the most prominent position on the dining table, a large purple clay pot, several sizes larger than the previous one and carved with exquisite cloud patterns, was being kept warm on an elegant insulated base.

Beside the bowl, a star chef dressed in a snow-white chef's uniform and wearing a tall hat, who seemed to be specially here to oversee this "final dish," stood with a serious expression and focused demeanor.

Seeing Zhao Xiaochui walk straight over, the chef subconsciously frowned. Just as he was about to ask a question, he saw Zhao Xiaochui had already found a thick cloth glove for heat protection next to him, seemingly oblivious to everyone else.

"Sir, this..." The chef finally realized something was wrong, stepped forward, and stretched out his arm, but it was too late.

Zhao Xiaochui had already put on gloves and steadily lifted the entire large purple clay pot with one hand. He didn't even glance at the chef. With his other hand, he casually grabbed the bottle of 1978 Moutai that had only been poured into one glass, turned around, and left. His movements were fluid and effortless, as if he were just taking a pot of stew from his own kitchen.

The star chef was left frozen in place, his hand outstretched, his face filled with disbelief.

Zhao Xiaochui thought he was getting away with it, but little did he know that his series of actions had already made him the focus of the entire courtyard.

The air, which had been filled with gentle guqin music and soft laughter, seemed to have been sucked away in an instant.

The distinguished guests who were socializing, whether they were talking about romance, art, or philosophy, all stopped talking at this moment.

Their hands, holding wine glasses, hovered in mid-air, their smiles frozen, their gazes drawn as if by a magnet to the figure carrying a large bowl of Buddha Jumps Over the Wall and a bottle of rare Moutai, as he strolled leisurely back behind the Podocarpus macrophyllus tree. Their eyes held a mixture of astonishment, absurdity, and a hint of something indescribable.

This masseuse...

Did he know that what he had just taken away was a top-quality treasure prepared specifically for Mr. Yuanshan tonight?
The waitress at the table looked completely bewildered. She was about to go over and say something when she suddenly stopped. She put her hand to her ear, as if listening to something.

Clearly, she, like Zhao Xiaochui, was also wearing invisible earpieces.

Zhao Xiaochui didn't care much about that. Asking the waiter about his salary wasn't about discussing any social issues; his thoughts weren't that profound.

He just wanted to know how much these two things that could stimulate the flow of heat in the body were worth.

Hearing the waiter's explanation, I immediately gave up on the idea—since I couldn't afford it anyway, I might as well grab a few more bites now and at least get my money's worth.

The guests present at this moment are not the real protagonists of tonight.

They were more like "warm-up guests" for this grand event. They were wealthy and popular figures in the outside world, but here, they carefully maintained their own circles, deliberately lowering their voices and their smiles carrying just the right amount of warmth and probing.

They are in the upper-middle tier of the pyramid, yearning to climb another step, and this banquet is where they seek that ladder. Therefore, they need to arrive early to show respect to the host and to gain more social time for themselves.

But the hesitation of most people does not represent everyone.

For some people who have personally experienced Zhao Xiaochui's miraculous methods, mere identity labels are simply insignificant in the face of the ultimate pursuit of "health".

For example, Jiang Ying has long been navigating the social circles of wealthy women with ease. What she values ​​is not the ethereal status, but the real money in the pockets of these women.

The other two even put this value judgment into action.

While others were still processing the shock of Zhao Xiaochui's identity and behavior, Qian Mankun and a capable-looking man walked out from different directions of the crowd and leisurely arrived behind the Podocarpus macrophyllus.

The young man was none other than Ling Rui, the head of a bank's headquarters who had caused trouble for "Easy Travel" in the past.

He looked to be in his early thirties, but his demeanor exuded an arrogance and composure beyond his years, clearly indicating an extraordinary background.

The two men sat down on the stone benches on either side of Zhao Xiaochui without any hesitation.

After Zhao Xiaochui leisurely filled his bowl to the brim with Buddha Jumps Over the Wall, Qian Mankun and Ling Rui exchanged a glance, understanding each other without saying a word, and immediately picked up their bowls and chopsticks, vying to fill their own bowls as well.

For a moment, this small corner under the Podocarpus macrophyllus became the most delightful food paradise in the entire venue, completely out of place with the cautious social atmosphere around it.

Zhao Xiaochui was completely oblivious to the two extra people beside him. He was focused on the soft and chewy abalone in his bowl, as if it were the most important thing in his life.

Just then, a discordant voice rang out.

"President Qian, President Ling? What are you two doing sitting here?"

A young man wearing a shiny suit and with slicked-back hair walked over.

He first greeted Qian and Ling with surprise, then his gaze fell on Zhao Xiaochui, who was engrossed in eating. His brows immediately furrowed, and he made no attempt to hide his dissatisfaction.

(End of this chapter)