Divorced Dad's Gourmet Shop

Chapter 487: Chapter 386: Foreign Visitors, A Sparring Match

"Long time no see, Morse."

Jun Xinghe noticed the other man didn’t rise to greet him, but his own expression remained unchanged.

He retracted the hand he had been about to extend.

He didn’t want to offend this person, as he was the second son of a European pharmaceutical group.

Many of Huaxia’s medicinal ingredients needed to be imported, so overseas channels were exceptionally important.

This wasn’t just about the future of Huaxia Pharmaceutical; it was about the development of Hua Country’s entire pharmaceutical system.

To put it bluntly, it was a sector where they were being held by the throat.

"Please, have a seat, Mr. Jun."

Morse gestured with his hand, acting as if this were his home turf.

Jun Xinghe gave a faint nod.

Secretary Wang, standing to the side, clenched his fists.

’This is too much!’

’If Boss Jiang gave the order, I’d charge in and give that fatso a couple of punches!’

"Mr. Jun, I just noticed you seem to have gotten younger."

"You’ve also been taking good care of yourself. You’re... a bit more impressive than before."

Jun Xinghe honestly couldn’t find any good qualities in this fat pig, so he just forced out a compliment.

"Hehehe..."

Morse’s laugh was strange; if you listened closely, it sounded like a wild boar in the mountains.

"I hear Mr. Jiang can also cook Sichuan cuisine?"

"Mm, he knows a little," Jun Xinghe said casually.

The other party had initiated today’s meeting. He didn’t know their true objective, so all he could do was wait and see.

The hook-nosed, stoic-faced man beside Morse finally lifted his eyelids.

He came from an unorthodox school of Sichuan cooking.

His Sichuan cuisine blazed a new trail, creating a new flavor profile that was unprecedented and would likely never be replicated.

Because Mr. Morse enjoyed spicy food, he’d had the good fortune to join his retinue.

Morse took a drag from his cigar. "I believe you’ve guessed some of it. The purpose of my visit is Mr. Jiang’s Sichuan cuisine."

"Oh? For my son-in-law’s Sichuan cuisine?"

"Correct."

Morse raised his hand, and the hook-nosed man beside him respectfully held up an ashtray.

The cigar was extinguished in the crystal ashtray.

"Fu Yuan, you tell Mr. Jun."

"Yes, Mr. Morse."

The hook-nosed Fu Yuan spoke to Jun Xinghe with indifference:

"Mr. Jun, after returning to the country, I heard many people say your son-in-law’s cooking is the best in the world, and that his Sichuan cuisine has surpassed Huaxia’s old-school Sichuan masters. However, I believe his skill level is actually nothing special."

"He might win against those old men with one foot in the grave, but he’d falter the moment he met a true master."

"Like a monkey when there are no tigers in the mountains."

The words were spoken lightly.

Fu Yuan’s voice was flat, as if he were stating a simple fact.

He had absolute confidence in his own Sichuan cuisine.

’What Master Jiang? He’s just the best of a bad lot.’

He couldn’t stand seeing others show off their meager skills, because all the glory from returning to the country should have been his!

The smiling expression on Jun Xinghe’s face gradually cooled.

Anger was already brewing in his heart.

If it were about him personally, he wouldn’t be this angry.

But the one they were mocking was the son-in-law he was so proud of.

"Sir, your words are a bit out of line."

Jun Xinghe said faintly.

’I have to protect my family’s cub!’

Fu Yuan chuckled.

What he had just said was his honest opinion, but he’d also said it deliberately to antagonize them.

Fu Yuan was arrogant, but also clever. He had read many books and sought out many of the nation’s "Sichuan masters" for competitions.

Without exception, they were all pushovers.

Just the day before yesterday, he had defeated Yu Guoguang, the self-proclaimed "face of Huaxia’s Sichuan cuisine."

His self-confidence had swelled to its peak.

"Don’t be angry, Mr. Jun. I didn’t expect that after so many years, you’ve become even less impressive than before."

Morse said with a smile.

The thick sarcasm in his words was like a slap to Jun Xinghe’s face.

"Alright, I can’t be bothered to waste any more time with you. You’ve probably guessed my intention. That’s right, I want Mr. Fu here to compete with your son-in-law to test his Sichuan cooking skills."

"So? What do you think?"

Secretary Wang, at the side, was startled.

’They’re trying to challenge Boss Jiang’s establishment!’

’Damn it, if Boss Jiang gives the order right now, I’ll definitely charge up there and fight them to the death!’

Jun Xinghe frowned, his fingers tapping on the sofa’s wooden armrest, and asked, "Why do you want to compete with my son-in-law?"

He wanted to know their true motive; he wouldn’t accept until he was clear on it.

Fu Yuan glanced at Morse.

Morse nodded, signaling that he could say whatever he wanted.

The corners of Fu Yuan’s mouth curled up as he squinted at Jun Xinghe, looking at him as if he were prey.

"It’s like this, Mr. Jun. I’ve heard that Mr. Jiang is very famous in Huaxia’s upper circles. I feel that if I defeat such a local hick... my mistake, I mean, defeating such a famous person should do a great deal to quickly boost my own reputation."

"Furthermore, I’ve opened a Sichuan restaurant in Europe. I’ve heard that many of our students studying abroad in Europe love to eat at Boss Jiang’s restaurant. I hope my establishment can leverage Boss Jiang’s fame to attract more customers in Europe."

He had the look of someone who saw Jiang Liu as a fish already in his pot, unable to make a splash.

This greatly infuriated Jun Xinghe.

Morse lit another cigar and started smoking.

He would arrange for people to record this competition to use as promotional material for Fu Yuan.

Jun Xinghe’s face was cold as he shook his head. "Sorry, Mr. Mo, I refuse."

’Negotiation is all about refusing when the other party hasn’t offered enough.’

’Why should I agree?’

’What’s in it for Xiao Jiang if he wins?’

Fu Yuan looked at Morse, a gleam of excitement in his narrow, teardrop-shaped eyes.

’Using Sichuan cuisine to defeat Jiang Liu, arguably the most famous chef in Huaxia, would certainly be interesting.’

"Mr. Jun," Morse said, looking up. "I can make a decision on my own and promise you this: if Jiang Liu wins, my father’s side will open a five-year, lowest-cost supply channel for you."

"Given the scale of your company, you stand to profit at least four hundred million euros a year."

Four hundred million euros.

That calculated out to 3.2 billion Huaxia currency.

Secretary Wang’s expression wavered.

’That’s a huge wager.’

’Over three billion!’

He didn’t know if the other party was confident or just ignorant, daring to challenge the god-like Boss Jiang.

Jun Xinghe pondered with a poker face.

Inwardly, he was ecstatic.

’Three point two billion!’

This would absolutely allow his company to secure a larger foothold in Hua Country, because there were many medicinal ingredients in Europe that Hua Country didn’t have.

And he would have the channel for five years.

He wasn’t worried about the other party backing out. Morse still had a reputation to uphold. Besides, once the contract was signed, this amount was probably nothing to him.

If he really dared to renege, Hua Country itself would step in to secure that batch of imported ingredients.

As for whether his son-in-law would lose...

Jun Xinghe had absolute confidence in Jiang Liu.

Because he had once asked Jiang Liu which Sichuan dishes he knew how to cook.

Jiang Liu had told him he knew "a little."

But to Jun Xinghe’s ears, those words meant something completely different.

’He knows "a little"? Given my son-in-law’s humble personality, his "a little" is probably more like "a billion little things"!’

"So, Mr. Jun? You know how many medicines my company has that Hua Country lacks. Aren’t you tempted?"

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