The dating reality show host just wanted to give up, but the rich girl fell for him.

The restaurant in Villa A is currently enveloped in an atmosphere of "breathtaking sophistication".

Candlelight flickered on the long, narrow European-style dining table.

The speakers were playing so-called "postmodern jazz" with only three notes going back and forth.

In front of each person's plate was a so-called "French feast" that looked as if it had been arranged under a microscope.

The appetizer was "Iberian 5J ham with melon".

The ham was sliced ​​thinner than a cicada's wing, so translucent that if the wind were even slightly strong, it could probably blow right up to Building B next door.

The main course is "slow-cooked salmon with caviar".

The caviar was only about the size of a fingernail, sitting alone in the center of the plate, like some kind of performance art.

The most amazing thing is the soup.

Spanish gazpacho.

It's bright red, looks like tomato juice, and tastes refreshingly cool.

"Everyone."

Zhao Kuo raised his glass of red wine and gently swirled it, letting the deep red liquid coat the inside of the glass.

He had specially changed into a sequined black shirt tonight, unbuttoning two buttons to reveal the faint chest hair underneath.

"I had this bottle of wine specially flown in from my private wine cellar."

Zhao Kuo squinted his eyes and smelled it with a look of rapture. "Although it's not a 82 Lafite, this Burgundy Pinot Noir, after being decanted for forty-five minutes, has a texture as smooth as silk, with the aroma of raspberry and damp earth."

After saying that, he took a sip and made a "tsk" sound of approval.

His expression suggested that he was drinking not wine, but the finest nectar.

Although the other guests at the table didn't understand, they all raised their glasses in agreement.

"Excellent wine! Young Master Zhao has impeccable taste!"

"The texture is definitely different; it has layers of flavor!"

Lin Chacha cupped her hands to her heart, her face full of admiration: "Young Master Zhao, you know so much! You can even smell the earth. I just think it tastes good."

In the live chat, Zhao Kuo's fans started spamming the chat:

[That's what you call depth and substance! Young Master Zhao is so charming!]

This is what a high society dinner should be like—elegant, so incredibly elegant!

Watching Young Master Zhao eat is simply a pleasure!

however.

Sitting at the very end of the long table, Lin Mo is facing the greatest test of his life.

hungry.

Extremely hungry.

The kind of hunger where your chest feels like it's pressed against your back.

He stared at the pitifully thin slice of ham on the plate, tried to pick it up with his fork for a long time but couldn't, so he simply picked it up with his hand and stuffed it into his mouth.

salty.

It was both dry and salty.

It felt like chewing on a piece of dried pork skin that had been air-dried for three years.

"Gurgle..."

My stomach growled again, much to my dismay.

Lin Mo quickly picked up the cold soup in front of him and took a sip, trying to suppress his hunger.

The icy liquid slid down his esophagus into his stomach, making him shiver.

This is hardly a meal.

This is clearly a cold compress applied to the stomach.

Jiang Ruoyun, who was opposite him, was in an even worse situation than him.

This young lady from the Beijing elite circle already had a serious stomach ailment and was most afraid of cold food.

But in order to maintain their aloof persona, they have to put on airs.

Her face was pale, and the knuckles of her fingers holding the knife and fork were white.

Looking at the plate of chilly soup, she felt her stomach begin to cramp.

My stomach ached from hunger, and eating made it hurt even more.

Jiang Ruoyun secretly glanced at Lin Mo.

I noticed that this guy was staring at the tiny bit of caviar on the plate with the look he gave his father's killer.

His eyes screamed: That's it? It's not even enough to fill a tooth gap!

For some reason, seeing Lin Mo's pained expression, as if he had never seen the world before, made Jiang Ruoyun feel a little better.

At least, she wasn't the only one suffering.

"Brother Lin?"

Zhao Kuo's voice suddenly rang out, tinged with a hint of mockery, "What's wrong? Don't you like the food?"

All eyes in the room were once again focused on Lin Mo.

Zhao Kuo put down his wine glass, looking at him with a half-smile: "That's true, this kind of raw ham and caviar does require a certain level of appreciation. Some people are used to eating at roadside stalls, so they might think this isn't as fragrant as grilled skewers, right?"

This is blatant favoritism and denigration.

Lin Chacha immediately chimed in, "Oh, Young Master Zhao, don't say that. Brother Lin Mo is probably just not used to using a knife and fork; after all, he usually uses chopsticks more often."

The comments section was filled with mockery:

[Hahaha, wild boars can't eat fine bran!]

Look at Lin Mo, he's holding a fork like he's holding a hoe!

This high-level competition is definitely not suitable for him. He should withdraw from the tournament as soon as possible; it's embarrassing to watch.

Lin Mo put down the fork in his hand.

The fork touched the plate, making a crisp "clink" sound.

He took out a tissue and slowly wiped his mouth.

Then he raised his head and looked at Zhao Kuo with a sincere expression.

"Young Master Zhao, since you've asked, I'll tell you the truth."

Lin Mo pointed to the exquisite plates on the table.

"This ham is sliced ​​like a face mask; it looks translucent, but it gets stuck in your teeth."

"This caviar tastes as fishy as a fishing net that's been drying on the beach for two days."

"The most crucial thing is..."

Lin Mo sighed, a deep sense of helplessness in his eyes. "All the dishes on this table are cold."

"No heat, no smell of cooking."

He looked around at everyone, and finally his gaze fell on the pot of dried flowers in the middle that was arranged like a work of art.

He said in a low, melancholy tone:

"Anyone who didn't know better would think we were eating offerings."

Quiet.

A deathly silence.

Zhao Kuo's hand holding the wine glass froze in mid-air, and the smile on his face instantly cracked.

The fitness instructor, who was drinking soup, almost spat it out.

Jiang Ruoyun's originally tight lips suddenly twitched uncontrollably, almost causing her to lose her composure.

offerings?

God doesn't eat offerings!

After a brief pause, the barrage of comments exploded instantly:

[Holy crap?!]

[Hahahaha! Eating offerings! Absolutely incredible!]

Lin Mo, you understand metaphors!

[Although it's really despicable, why does it feel so fitting for some reason?]

Zhao Kuo's face turned green! This was something he had prepared at great expense!

"You...you're vulgar!"

After hesitating for a long time, Zhao Kuo finally managed to utter two words, "This is fine dining! It's about style! Don't you even know what dining etiquette is?"

"I understand, of course I understand."

Lin Mo stood up, straightening the slightly wrinkled hem of his T-shirt. "Etiquette is about making people feel comfortable while they eat. But this meal..."

He clutched his stomach, a look of pain on his face.

This time it wasn't an act.

I was so hungry that my stomach acid was churning.

"This meal made my kidneys feel a bit uncomfortable."

It's the kidneys again.

All the guests looked exasperated.

"Um, please enjoy your meal. Let's continue talking about the fragrance of the earth."

Lin Mo grabbed the large stainless steel tea mug in his hand, spun around in his flip-flops, and pointed directly at the door.

"I need to pee, I'm leaving now."

Done.

Without waiting for Zhao Kuo's reaction, he made his escape.

That figure, with a joyful air of "finally free," even seemed to be jogging a little.

"How ill-mannered!"

Zhao Kuo slashed at a piece of beef as if it were Lin Mo's flesh, "How did someone like this get in here? He's dragging down the standards of our show!"

Lin Chacha quickly comforted him, "Young Master Zhao, don't be so rude. This kind of person won't last long. The audience has discerning eyes."

Only Jiang Ruoyun.

She sat there, holding a cold silver spoon in her hand, her eyes fixed on the direction where Lin Mo had disappeared.

That's the direction of Building C.

Also... the direction closest to the kitchen.

For some reason, she suddenly had a strong intuition.

The guy who's yelling "I need to pee!" is definitely not going to the toilet.

Because just a moment after Lin Mo turned around.

She distinctly heard a very soft murmur:

"My dad's starving! Luckily, I had a trick up my sleeve..."

Jiang Ruoyun swallowed.

They were hiding something?

What's hidden?

I want to eat it too...

……

Dark as ink.

The courtyard of Building C was quiet.

Just as Lin Mo said, although this place is dilapidated, it is truly peaceful.

There were no cameras pointing at my face (only one fixed camera in the corner of the yard), no annoying perfume smell, and none of Zhao Kuo's incessant chatter.

Like a thief, Lin Mo sneaked into the abandoned small kitchen next to Building C.

It's said to be abandoned, but actually it's just that the production team didn't use it.

Because everyone is showing off in that luxurious open kitchen with an island in Building A, who would come to this old-fashioned kitchen with only a clay stove and a stainless steel cutting board?

But for Lin Mo, this was a treasure.

He skillfully drew the curtains, blocking the view from outside.

Then he turned on the dim light bulb above his head.

"Squeak—"

The old cupboard door was pulled open.

Lin Mo glanced at the "trash" in the cabinet that the production team had forgotten, as if he were inspecting his soldiers.

A bag of unopened noodles.

A bottle of soy sauce that's almost empty.

A few shriveled scallions.

and also……

Lin Mo took a deep breath and pulled out a heavy object wrapped in old newspapers from a clay pot at the deepest part of the cabinet.

As the newspaper was peeled back layer by layer.

A white, thick object with a warm, jade-like luster was displayed before my eyes.

That was a piece he had taken from the logistics and purchasing vehicle before checking in, when the staff weren't looking.

Pork fat.

Look at the crystallization of this fat.

Lin Mo's eyes, which had looked dead like a fish's at the banquet, suddenly lit up.

It's even brighter than the crystal chandelier in Building A.

He swallowed hard, a genuine smile spreading across his face—the first genuine smile of the night.

"Young Master Zhao is drinking red wine."

"I'm rendering lard."

"This is what life is all about..."

He picked up a slightly rusty kitchen knife from the side and rubbed it on the whetstone a couple of times.

The sound of sharpening knives was particularly pleasant in the quiet night.