novelno Chapter 125 You must be the owner of "Human Fireworks"?
Chapter 125 You must be the owner of "Human Fireworks"?
At 10:15 a.m., more than ten kilometers away from the old street, in the largest "constant temperature fresh food cold storage" in the south of the city.
The massive double-leaf airtight door slid open with a rumble as it was pushed open by hydraulic rods, and a cloud of white mist, enough to chill one to the bone, surged out from the depths of the cold storage.
"Quickly! Bring out all those boxes of freshly arrived black pork belly!"
Also, the first batch of winter bamboo shoots, which were just airlifted from Jiaodong this morning, are packed together!
"Get your hands dirty! Anyone who's clumsy and damages the item is fired tomorrow!"
Zhao Dayou, the big boss of the cold storage, was standing on the cement platform at this moment.
His beer belly, which had been sticking out like a ball, was now heaving with each heavy breathing.
His expensive leather shoes were covered in frost from the cold storage, and he was as anxious as an ant on a hot pan, yelling furiously at the top of his lungs.
Just over half an hour ago, he was lounging on the leather sofa in his office, picking his teeth, when a special hotline number with the word "Beijing" on it suddenly broke the silence in his office.
On the other end of the phone, the secretary of Chef Song Ming, an absolute giant in Beijing's catering industry, gave him a location in a deep alley of an old street in a tone that left no room for negotiation, and specifically requested the top-quality ordinary fresh food.
Although the items requested were pitifully few in Zhao Dayou's eyes, not even enough to fill a small truck.
But this cold chain tycoon, who had been in the fresh food business in the south of the city for more than ten years and was worth over 100 million yuan, almost collapsed off the sofa the moment he received that phone call.
That's the elite circle of state banquets in the capital. With just a word from Song Ming, Zhao Dayou's entire cold chain logistics network in the Great Xia Kingdom could be uprooted.
"Boss...it can't be that bad, can it?"
A trusted supervisor who had worked for him for five or six years wiped the cold sweat from his forehead while cautiously watching Zhao Dayou's fat face, which was flushed red with fear, with an incredulous look in his eyes.
"This half-carcass of black pork, plus two baskets of scallions and mushrooms, is only worth a few thousand dollars at most."
You even skipped the board meeting, personally came to the bottom of this cold storage to oversee things, and even brought out all the top-quality goods we were keeping for the city's state guesthouse... Who exactly are you trying to impress?
"You don't know anything! Shut up!!"
Zhao Dayou suddenly turned his head, his slightly reddened eyes staring intently at his confidant, and he growled hysterically.
"That call came directly from Beijing to my cell phone!"
The person making the call could crush the entire fresh produce market in the South District into dust with just one finger!
I don't care which Buddha he's after; even if the Heavenly King himself blocks the road, I'm still delivering these boxes of goods, not a single ounce missing!
Zhao Dayou paced back and forth, frantically trying to decipher the meaning behind the Beijing chef's words.
He couldn't understand how such a powerful figure, standing atop the clouds, would suddenly mobilize such vast connections and ruthless methods for a dilapidated, nameless restaurant.
Half an hour later, at 10:45 a.m.
"Boss, I've checked it repeatedly. There are 70 catties of premium black pork belly, 30 catties of fresh scallions, and the old ginger, winter bamboo shoots, and dried shiitake mushrooms are all neatly packed in the cleanroom. There's absolutely nothing missing!" The trusted supervisor jogged over to report.
"Alright! The truck will lead the way, and I'll drive behind in my own car!"
Zhao Dayou didn't dare to waste a single second. Without even changing his suit jacket, he grabbed a car key and hurriedly jumped into his black Mercedes-Benz.
With a sharp roar of engines, a small refrigerated truck specially used for transporting high-end ingredients and a Mercedes-Benz sped off towards the old street.
At this moment, at exactly 11:00 AM, the old street was bustling with the sounds of everyday life.
Despite everyone's heavy hearts, under Chen Feng's almost unquestionable and calm instructions, the small shop continued to operate smoothly as usual.
The two huge stainless steel stockpots in the kitchen were now placed on the stove, with blue flames licking the bottom of the pots with a "whoosh".
The pot of water had already boiled thoroughly, and thick steam gurgled against the heavy lid, making regular thumping sounds, turning the kitchen into a white, smoky haze.
Xingruo was standing in front of the chopping board, absentmindedly wiping the clean, rough pottery bowl.
Her movements were slow, and her once lively face had lost its sparkle. Her almond-shaped eyes kept glancing worriedly toward the backyard.
The water in the big pot boils again, but there's no meat, no chicken, no dried shiitake mushrooms or wood ear fungus. This "Clear Broth with Shaoxing Wine and Chicken" and Uncle Liu's "Braised Pork Noodles" next door are ultimately just a mirage.
Su Chen sat on a bench in the shop, somewhat agitated.
He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the cold words "Su Ang" on the screen. The violent rage born of self-reproach threatened to burst him apart.
"Brother Chen...I..." Su Chen looked up at Chen Feng, who was slowly wiping chopsticks behind the counter, his clear voice full of helplessness.
Mengmeng sat on the small stool with a slightly tense little face.
The little girl clutched her sketchbook tightly in her arms, her big, dark eyes fixed on her father. Whenever Chen Feng moved even slightly, her little body would tense up.
Only Chen Feng remained completely calm, without the slightest ripple on his face.
"Tap, tap, tap."
A series of hurried, heavy sounds of leather shoes striking the bluestone pavement suddenly broke the deathly silence of the old street before noon.
Su Chen and Xing Ruo were jolted, instinctively thinking that Su Ang's men had brought people to smash up the shop.
Su Chen sprang up from the bench with a "whoosh," his fists clenched tightly, and his eyes fixed on the doorway.
The wooden door creaked open as someone hurriedly pushed it open from the outside.
The blinding light slanted in, and a middle-aged man, about forty or fifty years old with a big belly, was seen, not bothering to wipe the dense sweat that was pouring down his forehead and neck. He staggered slightly as he took two steps across the wooden threshold of "Human World".
His expensive suit was already wrinkled, and his leather shoes even smelled of dirt.
Zhao Dayou stood in the shop, not bothering to look around at the unusually clean little shop. His gaze swept around the shop and finally locked onto Chen Feng, who was standing behind the counter, exuding a cold and dignified aura.
He has none of the arrogance of a business tycoon, nor the slightest air of being worth hundreds of millions.
Under the almost stunned gazes of Su Chen and Xing Ruo, the big boss who managed the largest fresh food cold storage in the south of the city suddenly bent his fat back at a ninety-degree angle towards the young chef behind the counter.
His hands were pressed somewhat awkwardly against the sides of his trouser seams, and his voice was a little hoarse, yet it conveyed a deep-seated respect.
"Excuse me... are you Mr. Chen Feng, the owner of 'Human Fireworks'?"