Chapter 63: Aunt Nancy

"Tell Reban that if he wants my support on the new defense spending bill, he has to make concessions on the energy package. I am right here in Ilige, and I've already spoken with members of the Reconstruction Project Committee. I have certain perspectives on some of the energy bills and have voiced them. The military officials also endorse my proposal..."

As the car entered the Green Zone, Nancy kept her phone to her ear the entire way, as it rang incessantly.

"This is my principle, and it is non-negotiable. Oh, for God's sake, I think you people should also understand the current situation in Ilige. I was against this war from the beginning. Since you decided to launch it, you cannot let the Elephant Party have sole control over reconstruction affairs. We must exercise our oversight role..."

When the car finally stopped at the hotel entrance, Nancy was still finishing her last phone call inside the vehicle.

She then handed the phone back to her assistant sitting beside her.

The assistant reminded her, "Madam, we have arrived at the hotel. It is time to get out."

Nancy looked out the car window and saw several military personnel and members of the Ilige Governing Council standing at the entrance, seemingly waiting to welcome her.

She hurriedly pulled down the vanity mirror inside the car to check her appearance, tidied her hair and makeup, and asked her assistant, "Julie, how do I look?"

Her assistant, Julie, quickly replied, "Oh, Madam, you look exceptionally energetic."

This was far from mere flattery.

As a woman in her sixties, Nancy truly appeared remarkably vigorous compared to her peers. Having been in Ilige for nearly two days, the elderly lady had visited two military camps and interacted with several of the most crucial committees in Ilige. Each meeting had been lengthy and tedious, yet the Whip lady looked radiant and thoroughly enjoyed the process.

Having received a reassuring answer, Nancy was very pleased. Before opening the door to get out, Julie added, "Madam, Angel has an appointment later."

Nancy's brow furrowed slightly as she remembered, "Oh, the meeting with those mercenaries?"

Recalling this meeting, she felt a trace of displeasure.

She did not care for Angel's request, especially since those individuals were rumored to be Chinese and Russians.

That was what she detested the most.

However, did it matter?

In her political career, she had cooperated with people far more revolting.

As a politician, being able to squat beside a toilet and watch excrement while smilingly eating a meal was a basic qualification.

Of course, the main reason she was willing to lower her status to meet these mercenaries was largely to do Angel a favor.

Although she disliked those Chinese and Russians, she adored Angel.

The little girl had clung to her since childhood and idolized her. Although things this time had not turned out entirely perfectly, the desired effect had been achieved, and she was satisfied with that.

For the monk's sake, one must respect the Buddha.

For the sake of her niece's face, she would meet them.

"Very well, you arrange it. The time cannot be long. What was the agreed duration earlier?"

"Madam, fifteen minutes was agreed upon."

Nancy glanced down at her watch, and the time had reached 5:10 PM.

"Make the arrangements, and we will meet them during dinner. Oh, right, have Wood join us as well."

"Yes, Madam."

With that, Julie pushed open the door and stepped out of the car.

Seeing the assistant alight, the bodyguards immediately stepped forward to open the door for Nancy.

After an exchange of polite pleasantries at the hotel entrance, Nancy bade farewell to the officials welcoming her, excusing herself on the grounds of having a private meeting, thereby declining the welcome banquet.

She then walked through the lobby, surrounded by an entourage, headed for the elevators, and ascended to the ninth floor of the hotel.

After changing her clothes in her suite and freshening up, Julie knocked on her door once more.

"Madam, dinner is ready."

"Very well... Come in, Julie."

She turned away from her dressing table, looked at her assistant entering from the doorway, and asked, "Has Angel arrived?"

"She is already waiting in the dining room," Julie said.

"Good," Nancy replied. "Tell her to wait a moment, I'll be right there."

A few minutes later.

"Aunt Nancy!"

"My dearest Angel!"

Angel and the others finally welcomed Nancy.

The two shared a warm embrace.

"Auntie, these are the two gentlemen I mentioned to you. Without them, I probably wouldn't even have had the chance to see you again."

Angel began to introduce Song Heping and the Chef.

"This is Song, and this is Yevgeny..."

Nancy did not shake hands with either of them. She ignored the Chef's already outstretched hand and turned instead to Julie, "Have them begin."

"Right away," Julie replied as she motioned for everyone to take their seats.

Song Heping could tell from Nancy's cold demeanor.

This old hag certainly did not like him or the Chef.

But what did it matter?

He and the Chef were here purely for business.

Making money!

There was no shame in that.

Once seated, looking at the heap of cutlery and plates before him, Song Heping felt a bit troubled.

It wasn't as if he had never eaten Western food, but he had never seen so many knives, forks, bowls, and plates.

It didn't feel like eating at all; it felt more like visiting some kind of exhibition.

"These forks and knives are used from the outside in. The knife with the serrated edge is for cutting meat, and that small knife is for spreading butter on bread..."

Angel clearly noticed Song Heping's predicament and thoughtfully explained the usage of the cutlery to him.

Song Heping couldn't help but glance sideways at the Chef.

The Chef was dressed to the nines tonight.

He was wearing a full suit.

That's right.

Could you believe a mercenary leader coming to a place like Ilige to make a fortune would pack a suit in his combat rucksack?

The appetizer was served shortly after.

It was a piece of caramelized foie gras, drizzled with a thin layer of apple juice.

Mr. Wood, who was accompanying them, introduced, "The current head chef of this hotel was brought over from France. Madam, you can try the flavor of this dish; it is very authentic."

Nancy looked at the foie gras on the plate.

It was roasted foie gras wrapped in simmered syrup, topped with a layer of apple juice made from crushed apples.

As an appetizer, its purpose was to stimulate the palate.

The sweetness of the syrup, the richness of the foie gras, combined with the sweet and tart apple juice—the former awakened the taste buds, the second stimulated the appetite, and the latter served as a palate cleanser. The blend of the three produced a sublime flavor.

Song Heping felt this thing was just a single bite.

A matter of one bite.

Because there were only two small slices, weighing about fifty grams in total.

Eating them piece by piece probably wouldn't even be enough to get stuck between one's teeth.

Swallowing both pieces in one bite with a fork, however, seemed a bit too crude.

This put him in a difficult position.

"The taste is mediocre," the Chef suddenly chimed in after taking a bite, offering his opinion. "If I were making it, I would arrange a platter of melon wrapped in prosciutto for the appetizer."

Song Heping stared at the Chef in astonishment.

This guy really was a picky eater.

Coming to dinner meant just eating; it was merely a formal social obligation, so why bother offering so many opinions?

This dinner had been arranged by Wood, and the Chef's remark made him feel slighted.

The oil company boss glanced at the Chef across the table, his eyes showing a flash of disdainful arrogance, and said sarcastically, "You would make it? Can you cook?"

The Chef smiled. "Not only can I make it, but I wouldn't lose to any master chef."

Wood sneered inwardly.

A mere mercenary, yet daring to talk about fine dining in front of him?

Had a crude brute like him ever seen the world?

"Waiter!"

He called the waiter over, made some inquiries, and then said, "The hotel kitchen has all the ingredients you need. Since Mr. Yevgeny claims to know how to make melon wrapped in prosciutto, I am quite interested in trying it. I wonder if I might have the honor of tasting your culinary skills?"

Wood's words sounded very polite, but between the lines, they were dripping with contempt. Clearly, he believed the Chef was just bragging and wanted to embarrass him on the spot.

Furthermore, Wood was well aware that Nancy disliked the two men before him, and the only reason she had agreed to meet them for dinner was out of consideration for Angel.

"Of course," the Chef actually stood up, took off his jacket to reveal the white shirt underneath, and said with absolute certainty, "If Madam Nancy is willing, I can cook this dish for you myself."

Everyone's gaze fell upon Nancy's face.

Although Song Heping knew Yevgeny could cook—hence his nickname, the Chef—a guy who had just spent nine years in a hardcore prison claiming he understood high-end cuisine?

That was simply too magical, wasn't it?

If they weren't in public, he definitely would have advised the Chef not to invite unnecessary trouble.

Anyway, this old hag Nancy didn't like him or the Chef anyway; they should just talk business and leave, why bother arguing with her about such nonsense!

"Fine," Nancy nodded slightly. "Then I will trouble Mr. Yevgeny."