The Self-Cultivation of a Reborn Massage Therapist

Chapter 365 Seed
Monsieur Leo Bellini smiled gently, nodded slightly, and, supported by his cane, prepared to follow her into the hall.

However, just as his entourage and the accompanying representatives from Beijing were about to enter as well, two well-dressed guards stepped forward and politely stopped them.

The reason why they pay the staff at a relaxed and slow pace of life, far exceeding industry standards, is to ensure that order and rules can be maintained here under any circumstances.

“I’m very sorry, gentlemen,” one of the doormen said in English. “According to the strict rules of this establishment, only Mr. Bellini himself is allowed to enter. The rest of you please wait outside.”

The atmosphere at the scene instantly froze.

The accompanying staff immediately showed surprise and displeasure, and the representative from Beijing also frowned slightly, clearly thinking that the arrangement was impolite.

A burly foreign security guard's face darkened: "Mr. Bellini is advanced in years; we must accompany him closely—it's our duty..."

The security guard remained unyielding: "Rules are rules. Please cooperate."

The foreign security guard's expression turned hostile, and he suddenly took a step forward.

The gatekeeper, a former soldier, reacted extremely quickly, immediately lowering his shoulder to block. However, the narrow doorway limited his space to exert force, and coupled with the opponent's absolute advantage in size and strength, he was hit with a muffled groan and staggered back half a step, clearly suffering a hidden loss.

Seeing this, the foreign bodyguard's eyes flashed with contempt, and he pressed forward again.

Bellini, who had just been led through the door by Pan Xiaoli, frowned upon hearing the sound and was about to turn around to stop her.

at this time!

A figure burst out of the door! Everyone only saw a blur before their eyes, then—*bang*!

With a muffled thud, the bodyguard, who was nearly two meters tall and as muscular as a mountain, flew backward, tracing a beautiful arc, and crashed heavily onto the other side of the road. He struggled for a moment but was unable to get up!
The scene fell silent.

The representative from Beijing opened his mouth, but ultimately shook his head with a wry smile and a sigh. He was completely helpless against this unruly individual.

Zhao Xiaochui clapped his hands, first glancing at the gatekeeper with an inquiring look. Seeing the gatekeeper shake his head to indicate that everything was alright, he then looked at the entourage and the Beijing representative who were standing there in a daze, before turning back to Bellini's side.

"Sir, please come in."

Mr. Bellini, leaning on his cane, shifted his gaze from the bodyguard struggling to his feet across the street to Zhao Xiaochui. Far from reprimanding him, he shook his head and chuckled, teasing him in heavily accented Italian English:
“Mr. Zhao, your way of ‘welcoming guests’ is truly impressive.”

Zhao Xiaochui smiled and stepped aside to lead the way: "It was just a small misunderstanding. Please come in."

The two walked side by side into the quiet studio. Bellini looked around at the simple environment and nodded with satisfaction: "A very comfortable space. The treatment I had in San Francisco last time was amazing; my migraines, which had plagued me for twenty years, haven't flared up again. So, I can't wait to experience it at your headquarters."

He paused, his tone tinged with emotion: "So, when I heard you had returned to the capital, I immediately flew over from the project site in Egypt. After all, health is more important than anything else."

Zhao Xiaochui was slightly taken aback upon hearing this, and blurted out subconsciously, "You're already eighty-two, and you're still working on a project site in Egypt?"

Mr. Bellini, leaning on his cane, couldn't help but laugh heartily upon hearing this: "My dear Mr. Zhao, if I weren't firmly seated in this position, holding the power of decision-making..."

He paused deliberately, his tone slightly teasing: "...How could I possibly make a decision on the spot to have my Frette brand launch that collaboration with your 'Easy Stroll' in exchange for that precious 'queue-jumping' opportunity in San Francisco?"

The old man shrugged, his smile revealing a clear understanding: "Work, sometimes, is the price I pay for what I gain."

In San Francisco, Zhao Xiaochui learns that he is about to bear the responsibility for the livelihoods of tens of thousands of families.

A single massage parlor clearly couldn't handle the massive production capacity of the industrial park and textile factories. Just then, this elderly man, needing to "jump the queue" for health, appeared with a collaboration proposal from his top global home furnishing brand, Frette. This led to a mutually beneficial and successful transaction.

Knowing the foreign old man's straightforward personality, Zhao Xiaochui half-jokingly complained to him, "Mr. Bellini, to be honest, isn't the pricing of the Frette collaboration with us a bit too conservative?"

His confidence in complaining stems from the fact that the co-branded products are in short supply.

Upon hearing this, Mr. Bellini gave a helpless smile and shook his head slightly: "My dear Zhao, I must tell you the truth. The high-end linens produced by 'Easy Slow Walk' have excellent craftsmanship and concepts, but in terms of the absolute quality of the raw materials alone, they do not yet meet the standards of our top product line."

Xiao Chui was stunned for a moment, his face full of disbelief: "Impossible! We use Xinhai series long-staple cotton produced in XJ, which is already the top raw material in China!"

Mr. Bellini chuckled: "Zhao, I admire your confidence. But there are objective standards for 'top-tier' textiles."

He patiently explained, "The Xinhai series is indeed the pride of China, with good fiber length and strength. But compared to the real pinnacle, Giza 45 cotton produced in a specific region along the Nile River in Egypt, there is an objective gap."

As Mr. Bellini spoke, he took out a delicate little glass bottle from the inside pocket of his suit. Inside lay a seemingly inconspicuous, dark brown seed covered with a faint fuzz.

“Look,” he said, handing the bottle to Zhao Xiaochui with an almost reverent tone, “this is the seed of Giza 45. It looks ordinary, doesn’t it?”

He patted Zhao Xiaochui on the shoulder: "Your linens are very good, but what you lack to reach the price of luxury goods is not the craftsmanship, but this unique and irreplaceable natural gift."

Zhao Xiaochui stared blankly at the seed that had been collected, his pupils shrinking slightly.

He glanced instinctively at the satchel in the corner—inside was another…seed.

That was a wild coffee bean.

He found it by chance deep in the jungle when he was exhausted and on the verge of physical collapse during his escape from that hellish South American road.

Unprocessed coffee beans contain an unusually high concentration of natural caffeine and theobromine, which barely kept him conscious and helped him get through the most dangerous phase.

The only surviving memento of that seed.

Zhao Xiaochui stared blankly at the cotton seed, and a thought suddenly popped into his head:
Could the wild coffee bean in his bag, which had accompanied him through countless cycles of heat recovery and depletion, have mutated?

The idea warmed his heart, and when he looked at the Giza 45 seeds in Bellini's hand, he chuckled twice:

"Mr. Bellini, could you give me the seed? This service is free?"

The old man chuckled and readily handed him the glass bottle: "Take it. The seeds themselves aren't much better than the Shinkai series."

"Its true value lies in the fact that it must grow in specific lands; sunshine, climate, river water, and soil are the key factors."

"What's precious isn't the seed, but the irreplaceable place of origin."

After listening to the old man's words, Zhao Xiaochui muttered to himself, "The Nile River basin has always been Chinese territory."

He carefully opened the glass bottle, took out the cotton seeds and stored them close to his body, chuckling to himself.

(End of this chapter)