Chapter 66: Satisfaction

Bai Renzong knew that once this video was released, Yijiaxuan’s business would experience an explosive surge. This had nothing to do with the number of his followers, but everything to do with the video’s view count. That was why, in all the videos he had made before, the popularity of the featured games and restaurants had increased dramatically.

Even though his follower count was still modest, the effect of the Connoisseur app ensured his videos reached a wide audience—view counts were high, and it wasn’t just his followers who watched; passersby did as well. So long as the restaurants and games he recommended were of good enough quality, their popularity would inevitably soar.

As for the Michelin evaluation, he had asked someone from Grape Purple about it. Michelin’s food inspectors didn’t wander around blindly; they investigated reputations and only went to establishments with strong word of mouth.

With this video, Yijiaxuan’s business would boom. As long as Han Jiayi seized the opportunity and performed well during this period, Michelin would naturally send their inspectors. That was why Bai Renzong had reminded Han Jiayi, and she too understood the significance.

Of course, after the video went live, Han Jiayi would inevitably be busy for a while.

Originally, Bai Renzong had planned to help Han Jiayi aim for two Michelin stars next month. But now, with such a golden opportunity as “Yunni” before them, it would be a shame to waste it.

Back home, Bai Renzong began editing the footage he’d shot today. Since there wasn’t much material, the editing wasn’t difficult. However—

“Old Bai, I sent you a behind-the-scenes clip. Remember to add it to the end of the video, okay?” Wang Bei reminded him with a cheerful smile.

“You little rascal…” Bai Renzong shot her a sidelong glance. “You’re going to pass the buck to me again, aren’t you?”

“Oh, come on, how is that passing the buck?” Wang Bei giggled, covering her mouth. “You know it’s for Jiayi’s sake. She won’t hold it against you, but if it were me… well, that would be disastrous.”

Bai Renzong simply glared at her, but decided to include the blooper reel—popularity was paramount.

By the time the editing was done, it was already after five in the afternoon. Wang Bei was getting ready to head home for dinner with her parents.

“Old Bai, I’ve replied to most of your private messages, and I’ve summarized the remaining business collaborations into a few concise sentences in a Word document and sent it to you,” Wang Bei explained, closing her laptop and patting him on the shoulder. “You’re getting more and more collaboration requests. It’s not just business proposals; other creators on D-Station want to collaborate with you too.”

“All right, I’ll take a look. Thanks for your hard work,” Bai Renzong nodded with a smile.

Though Wang Bei could be a bit mischievous, her work ethic was top-notch. Every day, she sorted through his messages, replying to the trivial ones and summarizing the important ones for him.

If Han Jiayi provided him with material, Wang Bei handled all the chores, and He Guang saved him time and improved video quality. The whole studio revolved around him.

“It’s five o’clock. Aren’t you going to eat something?” Wang Bei asked curiously.

“No. I just ate around three. I’ll wait for your Jiayi to come home and eat with her,” Bai Renzong replied, shaking his head.

“How considerate,” Wang Bei teased, covering her mouth with a sly grin. “Go for it—you have my full support.”

“Go home and eat your dinner,” Bai Renzong tapped her lightly on the head in mock chastisement.

Wang Bei made a face at him, closed the door gently, and left.

Bai Renzong then sorted through his messages and was surprised to find collaboration invitations from other creators—food and gaming creators inviting him to co-produce a few episodes or travel to other cities to taste local cuisine.

These collaborations were quite promising. Not only could they share the spotlight and attract each other’s fans, but they could also provide fresh material. That’s why joint videos were common on D-Station.

For now, however, the studio didn’t have the experience or funds for travel; all his explorations were self-funded. After next month’s video revenue came in, he could consider collaborating with others.

He sent brief replies to the other creators, and by seven in the evening, Han Jiayi returned home.

“Thanks for your hard work,” Bai Renzong greeted Han Jiayi as she changed her shoes at the bottom of the stairs.

From this angle, she truly was beautiful. Her soft hair cascaded over her shoulders, enhancing her femininity.

“Have you had dinner yet?” Han Jiayi asked, slipping off her sandals. She lost her balance for a moment and had to steady herself against the wall. “You haven’t eaten, have you? You only had lunch at three.”

“And you? Have you eaten?” Bai Renzong countered, inwardly marveling at the graceful lines of her ankles.

“No, I figured you hadn’t either, so I wanted to come home and eat with you,” Han Jiayi replied with a bright smile. Even after a long day, she was still full of energy. “Wait just a bit, I’ll start cooking right away—it’ll be done in no time.”

Before long, Han Jiayi returned as if by magic, carrying a large tray with a generous serving of spaghetti with meat sauce, a fried chicken cutlet, and a fruit salad.

“How did you manage to make three dishes in fifteen minutes?” Bai Renzong asked incredulously, taking the tray from her.

“The usual way,” Han Jiayi replied, her beautiful eyes twinkling. “I make the sauce while bringing the water to a boil, cut the fruit while the sauce simmers, and once the salad is ready, so is the sauce. Then I cook the pasta and fry the chicken cutlet at the same time.”

She added, “But the chicken cutlet was marinated yesterday. You have to marinate it in advance.”

Bai Renzong fell silent. Sometimes Han Jiayi’s personality made it easy to forget how skilled she was as a chef.

“All right, let’s eat,” Han Jiayi said, smiling as she twirled some spaghetti onto Bai Renzong’s plate. Her eyes sparkled mysteriously. “Remember last time I told you Italians don’t put pineapple on pizza?”

Bai Renzong nodded, and Han Jiayi continued, “Actually, Italians don’t put ketchup on their pasta, either. If you want to make an Italian mad, just pour ketchup all over your spaghetti!”

“Then what about Neapolitan pasta?” Bai Renzong asked with curiosity.

“That was invented in Japan to suit American tastes,” Han Jiayi explained with a grin. “It’s like Tianjin rice or Chinese cold noodles—really Japanese cuisine.”

“I see…” Bai Renzong mused. “People are fascinating, aren’t they?”

“Right?” Han Jiayi said happily.

At that moment, both felt a quiet satisfaction—a sense of warmth in sharing a meal together. The big house didn’t feel so empty anymore; it was cozier.

“Eat up! Afterward, let’s play another round of ‘Surviving the Apocalypse’ tonight,” Han Jiayi said with a cheerful smile. “I found a new recipe yesterday and can’t wait to try it out tonight.”

“Mm, let’s try to find a generator tonight. Then we won’t have to eat canned food anymore. We’ll get a fridge, stash all the fresh ingredients we find, and eat well for a long time,” Bai Renzong replied, laughing inwardly at her enthusiasm.

While Bai Renzong was washing the dishes, Han Jiayi soon came from the living room to help. Bai Renzong took the chance to ask about the restaurant’s day.

“We sold out of everything!” Han Jiayi flashed a victory sign. “It was a total hit! I was even a little shocked—it was just a spur-of-the-moment creation…”

“That’s what Xing Ge calls inspiration,” Bai Renzong said, handing her a rinsed plate. “Aren’t you tired? You worked all day, and now you want to play games at night.”

“That’s why I play games—to relax and unwind,” Han Jiayi replied, puzzled by his question.

“…Fair enough,” Bai Renzong nodded. “This is the last one.”

(The thank-you list for today is too long. To avoid interrupting the reading experience, it’s been moved to “Author’s Notes.”)