Chapter 15: Even Hazardous Waste Isn’t as Polluting as You
Before joining the romance variety show, Li Ming'en had spent a fortune on a fifteen-day crash course with a top chef at the New Oriental Culinary School, determined to showcase his multi-talented persona—and, in front of Cui Mengya, to establish himself as someone who could impress in both the parlor and the kitchen.
He’d even forsaken a lazy morning, rising early and volunteering as the snail boy to cook breakfast for everyone. Yet, right at the outset, he ran into Su Nian—the rotten apple in the barrel.
Not only did she fail to appreciate his efforts, she went so far as to ruin his carefully crafted fresh vegetable soup. Caught between the urge to explode and the need to maintain his image, Li Ming'en took three deep breaths and chose composure.
Calmly, he addressed Su Nian’s “rudeness”: “Su Nian, I got up early to cook for everyone. Even if I didn’t achieve much, I put in the effort. Don’t you think it’s uncultured to speak like that?”
After all, the viewers behind the screens couldn’t smell his soup; they’d only see Su Nian nitpicking for no reason. If anyone received backlash, it would be her.
Li Ming'en banked on this, confidently denying the pungency of his soup.
Su Nian found his self-assuredness utterly speechless. “So now telling the truth is a matter of etiquette? Fine—let the cultured ones drink your soup.” Not bothering to argue, she picked up her bag and headed upstairs.
Seeing Su Nian ignore him so completely, Li Ming'en, who had been restraining himself, finally lost his composure and called after her, “Then don’t eat any later!”
Su Nian’s reply drifted from the stairwell, languid and mocking, “Thanks for not poisoning me—”
That single “thanks” sent Li Ming'en’s blood pressure soaring, and in his agitation, he even sliced his finger.
[Ex-girlfriend really is toxic. Isn’t it better to part ways amicably after breaking up? Isn’t this malicious slander a bit tasteless?]
[I feel for the ex-girlfriend. Li Ming'en’s soup looks truly dark and unappetizing.]
[Our En-ge trained with a star chef for half a month! How could there be a mistake? Su Nian is just stirring up trouble.]
[Which five-star chef taught this? I’ll avoid that hotel from now on.]
...
Half an hour later.
Xia Xingkong, tidied up and refreshed, was the first downstairs. Standing at the top of the stairs, she caught a whiff of something bizarre.
“Who the hell took a dump in the public area?”
Suffering from her usual morning mood, her words were sharp enough to knock someone flat.
Li Ming'en, who had just bandaged his finger and was about to invite Xia Xingkong to breakfast, froze at her words, his expression more unsightly than anything imaginable. The invitation lodged in his throat, unable to come out.
Xia Xingkong, seeing Li Ming'en looking constipated, wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Was it you?”
Li Ming'en, dumbfounded, nodded first, then quickly shook his head. “No, I made soup—”
As Li Ming'en explained, the second guest, Cen Zifan, descended the stairs. Having stayed up last night writing songs, Cen Zifan was still groggy, but upon seeing Xia Xingkong, his eyes lit up with stars.
“Senior, what a coincidence—fate truly brings us together.”
Xia Xingkong glanced coldly at the overly enthusiastic Cen Zifan. “Coincidence? We’re in the same house, going up and down the stairs. Not running into each other would be strange.”
Cen Zifan: “...”
Whimper whimper, Senior is so cool—I love it.
[Cen Zifan, hide that cheap expression. Mom knows you want romance, but only reserved boys are loved.]
[Haha, betting Star Sister doesn’t feel anything for Cen Zifan. She said in an interview she’s not into younger guys.]
[Wuwu, Star Sister, look at our Zifan! Little puppy and queen type really match these days.]
...
Heart wounded, Cen Zifan pondered how to talk to his goddess. Suddenly, she spoke first: “Hey, do you smell something weird?”
Cen Zifan sniffed like a puppy, then gagged. “This stench is worse than socks in our guys’ dorm after three months unwashed.”
“Good morning, everyone—”
Full of energy, Yi Linglin appeared in a floral camisole, her skin gleaming white, exuding a pure allure. Her fans instantly flooded her with compliments.
“What’s that smell? Are the eggs spoiled?”
Yi Linglin wrinkled her nose, just as Chu Tianhe returned from his workout. Opening the door, he was hit by the strange smell and hurriedly reopened it for ventilation, rushing over to the gas knob and shutting it off.
With grave seriousness, he looked at Li Ming'en, whose face was now as black as a pot’s bottom. “I suggest you immediately contact the gas company to check for leaks.”
Li Ming'en: “...”
[Hahahahaha, can’t stop laughing. Foot wash, poop, stinky socks, rotten eggs, gas leak... Just how bizarre is Li Ming'en’s soup?]
[Are Li Ming'en’s fans still defending him? The public’s noses don’t lie.]
[The chef who taught Li Ming'en has already fainted in the kitchen.]
...
“It’s not a gas leak—maybe it’s my soup?” After being told again and again that the soup smelled strange, Li Ming'en’s confidence started to falter.
“Why is everyone standing at the stairs and not coming down?” At Cui Mengya’s puzzled voice, Li Ming'en looked up as if seeing his savior.
Meeting her boyfriend’s pleading eyes, Cui Mengya was equally bewildered. Just as Li Ming'en opened his mouth, she suddenly covered her nose and mouth, unable to bear it. “Which drain is backing up? The smell is unbearable—”
Li Ming'en, hoping to redeem himself through Cui Mengya, was instantly shattered.
“Oh, it’s not the drain—it’s Li Ming'en’s soup. He even warned me not to complain about the smell, said it would mean I lack manners.”
Su Nian, freshly cleaned and changed, walked down the stairs, thoughtfully summarizing for all the guests the various ways they’d described the scent.
For a moment, everyone stared at Li Ming'en with shock and disbelief.
[If I were Li Ming'en, I’d wish to faint on the spot.]
[Exes are fatal—no stubborn denials survive.]
[Confirmed: culinary black hole.]
[Where’s my Wang-ge? Why hasn’t he come down yet?]
...
Blushing furiously from Su Nian’s words, Li Ming'en attributed all his humiliation to her. “Su Nian, it’s my first time making soup, and it didn’t turn out well. Please forgive me, I’ll keep working hard—but you didn’t have to be so harsh.”
Su Nian’s eyes widened in astonishment.
Telling the truth counted as being harsh? Did Li Ming'en misunderstand the meaning of “harsh”?
Just as Su Nian prepared to retort, a lazy, icy male voice sounded above her head: “Mr. Li, do you perhaps misunderstand the meaning of ‘harsh’? Maybe you shouldn’t cook anymore. Even hazardous waste isn’t as polluting as you are.”