Chapter Eighty: Sharpened Confrontation (Please Subscribe)

Just as the last group of guests departed, a car pulled up behind Sun Miaomiao’s Porsche. Judging by its sleek appearance, it was every bit as impressive as hers. The emblem felt familiar, though Zhong Di couldn’t quite place it.

Could there be more guests arriving? That was Zhong Di’s first thought; if he had to host another table, today would mark three groups.

“Zhong Di, I brought a few friends for dinner. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision, so we didn’t make a reservation—hope that’s all right?” Three people stepped out of the car: Su Rou, and two others—one older, one younger. The elder supported the younger, who looked frail and sickly. The older woman had the bearing of a lady of some standing, while the girl she helped seemed almost feeble.

So they really were here to dine, meaning that with this table, today’s tally would reach three. “Why don’t you all come in and take a seat? I’ll check with the chef,” Zhong Di said, fetching glasses and pouring water for them before heading inside to seek Shao Hong’s opinion.

Meanwhile, as soon as Su Rou had entered, Sun Miaomiao’s gaze fixed itself upon her. Today, Su Rou wore a crisp, summery outfit: short-sleeved top and shorts, her pale, slender legs exposed, feet clad in low-heeled sandals. Her toes—delicate and fair—peeked out, the shape of her feet flawless, smooth and charming without a wrinkle. Unlike Sun Miaomiao, Su Rou hadn’t painted her nails; though she lacked Miaomiao’s air of luxury, there was a simplicity to her beauty.

It was like comparing gourmet fare from a high-end restaurant with lovingly prepared country cooking—each had its merits, neither could be declared superior, both possessed their own distinct charm.

Both women were equally stunning: one radiated outward confidence, the other exuded quiet grace.

Su Rou noticed Sun Miaomiao’s scrutiny and met her gaze—what a formidable rival.

Earlier, Su Rou had visited a friend’s house, idly scrolling through Xuan Yin and checking her new followers. She stumbled upon a user named “My Zhong Di Brother”—at first, she thought it a coincidence, but upon clicking, realized it was indeed Zhong Di. And the woman in the photos—her whole body pressed against him—how could that be tolerated?

Just then, her friend’s mother suggested they thank the person who provided the ingredients. Finding her excuse, Su Rou brought them along, determined to see what kind of person this was. She watched as the woman ordered dish after dish; clearly, she was here for more than a meal. Luckily, Su Rou had come.

Neither woman had spoken, yet their auras clashed.

“Sure, we’ll take them—no problem. Ask what they’d like to eat,” Shao Hong responded the moment Zhong Di mentioned the new group, agreeing instantly; after all, who would turn away customers? A single table could bring in several thousand, and even split among staff, each would pocket a few hundred. It was just a bit more cooking—very much welcome.

“Really? All right then.” Zhong Di confirmed, then informed the two ladies—after nine o’clock, every additional hour cost thirty. They agreed without hesitation.

“Here’s the menu—what would you like?” Zhong Di placed it on the round table, personally asking Su Rou, since she was an acquaintance.

“A balance of meat and vegetables, and a soup. You can decide the rest,” Su Rou replied with a gentle smile, withdrawing her gaze.

Sun Miaomiao: See? Vixen.

“Oh, and let me introduce you: This is my friend, Li Zitong, the one suffering from anorexia. And this is her mother, Aunt Su Fang,” Su Rou suddenly remembered the purpose of their visit.

“Hello, thank you. If it weren’t for your native chicken and eggs, I wouldn’t have been able to eat anything,” Li Zitong said.

“Yes, thank you,” her mother echoed. They’d known Zhong Di’s name, but hadn’t wanted to intrude until Su Rou introduced them.

“No need to thank me—you paid, so it’s all right,” Zhong Di replied, embarrassed by their gratitude. They’d already paid; why be so polite?

But Zhong Di misunderstood. For those suffering from anorexia, or mothers struggling to produce milk, hospital bills and medication often cost a fortune. Compared to their health, this expense was insignificant; their gratitude was natural.

“Brother, I want to order,” Sun Miaomiao chimed in before Zhong Di could finish.

Look at that—Su Rou was pulling out every trick. Using a patient to win sympathy—truly, nothing was off-limits.

From that moment on, Zhong Di felt an inexplicable tension, as if both women were locked in a duel.

It wasn’t until eleven at night that everyone finally left. Sun Miaomiao’s bill alone amounted to tens of thousands—she ordered every dish, double portions, packed up much to take home. In her view, reheating these dishes meant she wouldn’t be able to stomach ordinary food again.

The other table ordered less, but still plenty, and they also packed leftovers.

“Ladies, thank you for your hard work today. Your wages and overtime are all included—sixty extra each, same as always, we’ll settle at the end of the month,” Zhong Di said, handing each a bag of vegetables as a gift.

“No need for the vegetables—the pay is generous, and I hardly feel I did any work. If we took more, it wouldn’t be right. We’ll head home now,” the two replied, refusing the gift.

Once they’d gone, Zhong Di and Shao Hong set about watering and feeding the sheep. After another stretch, they’d slaughter a lamb to test its quality.

The ratio of Wild Sand Immortal Bud in the feed had always been low, intended to build up the herd first. Once their customer base stabilized, they'd increase the ratio and start selling the sheep.

Now, the time had come.

“Zhong Di, today… my goodness, it’s like a dream,” Shao Hong sighed as he prepared for bed.

“It looks like a lot, but we’ll have to invest in building greenhouses next—it goes quickly,” Zhong Di replied. The profits were substantial, but so were the expenses: machinery was lacking and needed to be filled.

For example, in spraying foliar fertilizer, Zhong Di planned to purchase a drone, which would cost tens of thousands. Then there were fish ponds to dig, saplings to buy, and greenhouses to build.

“That’s just it—earn, invest, and it becomes assets. One step at a time; still, I can’t help being happy,” Shao Hong mumbled as he drifted off, thoroughly content with life these days.

Life was fulfilling: purposeful, orderly, improved living standards, ample earnings, and a bright mood.

But Zhong Di didn’t sleep right away; instead, he browsed treasures online, planning to introduce some perennial plants—growing in spring, summer, and autumn, ornamental, then pruned in winter. Perfect.