pjbooks Chapter 110 [Unable to Get Off the Bus]
Chapter 110 [Unable to Get Off the Bus]
Chapter 110 [Unable to Get Off the Bus]
"I'm not just a blogger, I'm also a street vendor." Liu Zhuohao explained casually, "It's a stall, so it's normal for people to recognize me because I do business with the neighborhood."
Mentioning the "stall," Crow seemed to remember something, his smile fading slightly, and a hint of worry crept into his voice: "By the way, Mr. Liu, tonight's filming is at your steak stall, right? Did you notify and communicate with the city management or the neighborhood committee beforehand?"
"Let's hope nothing goes wrong halfway through filming."
"Definitely," Liu Zhuohao replied. Their next filming location was a street stall.
The crow seemed to have already seen the state of this stall.
But Liu Zhuohao didn't seem to have seen him before. He had eaten steak at the stall, but it was mostly done in private. He would leave when he saw that there were too many people.
"You have to report to the city management beforehand just to film a video?!" Song Yinxuan was even more surprised and muttered to herself. Her eyes stared straight back at her with her slightly round face. "It feels more like we're filming a movie or a celebrity going out."
That's an exaggeration.
That's all Liu Zhuohao could say.
Instead of heading towards any glamorous commercial area, the car turned into a rather old-fashioned, civilized residential community.
There are no security guards, no eye-catching signs, only rows of old buildings with mottled exterior walls.
"We are here—"
—
Looking out the window, Song Yinxuan asked, puzzled, "Are we going to eat at Boss Liu's house?"
Upon hearing this, even the crow and the soy milk were stunned and looked out the car window.
The car was parked under a few old trees, and the only sound around us was the chirping of cicadas.
Song Yinxuan turned her head blankly, a hint of obvious unease in her eyes: "Shouldn't we—buy some fruit or something at the supermarket near the entrance?"
Her earnest expression suggested she genuinely believed she was about to pay a visit and was beginning to consider the etiquette of being a guest.
"It's not my home, it's a private kitchen," Liu Zhuohao explained with a smile, gesturing for everyone to get out of the car. "We have quite a few around here. They don't want to rent a shop, and they don't want to just set up a stall, so they turn their old houses into private restaurants. Look, that's the second floor of that building."
He gestured for them to open the car door and get out first.
The group, puzzled, got out of the van and walked inside.
The driver also got out of the car, but he didn't go with them. Instead, he walked out of the residential area. Clearly, his lunch hadn't been included in the trip.
Because it was an old building, there was no elevator, and the group climbed the stairs in the dim light.
The hallway was dimly lit, and propaganda slogans from who-knows-when still remained on the walls.
Fortunately, it was only on the second floor. On the gray-white wall, there was a crooked arrow drawn in chalk, with the words "..." written next to it.
The phrase "private kitchen" doesn't even have a proper signboard.
"It looks a bit simple, but the taste is great and the ingredients are high-quality," Liu Zhuohao explained as he led the way. "We saved on rent and renovation costs, and all the money went into the ingredients."
The three of them, like clueless geese, obediently followed him inside.
There really is a private kitchen, right here at home.
After they passed through the threshold, which was exactly like a security door, they found that the original living room had several round tables where guests were already eating and chatting, and the air was filled with the enticing aroma of home-cooked meals.
Liu Zhuohao was at the front desk, which was just the entrance, where the shoe cabinet should have been. After giving some instructions, he was led by the proprietress to a private room, which was clearly what used to be a bedroom.
Once the bedroom door is closed, the noisy environment outside is temporarily shut out.
"This is really something—" Soy Milk sat down and looked around at the peeling paint on the walls and the old furniture, hesitating to speak.
Fortunately, the tables, chairs, and tableware were all polished to a shine, and there was even a basin of boiling water available for rinsing the tableware, showing attention to detail.
Song Yinxuan didn't show any disgust. She sat down neatly and asked curiously in a low voice, "Is this... common here? Is it legitimate?"
"That's definitely not legitimate."
Liu Zhuohao was very frank. While immersing the bowls, chopsticks, cups, and plates in a basin of hot water to wash them, he said, "In places like this, you can report it and it will be confirmed."
"However, those who find this place are mostly regular customers who bring other regular customers, and word of mouth spreads the word, so there are generally no problems."
""
He paused, then looked at Song Yinxuan, "It's mainly because the taste is good."
"Of course, the food here may be on the lighter side, and as someone from Sichuan or Chongqing, there's a chance you might not be used to it."
"This meal is a warm-up for you, to let you experience the local flavors, so you don't mess up your performance during filming tonight."
play.
In this episode, Song Yinxuan appeared as a guest.
However, Liu Zhuohao primarily catered to the tastes of the lucky customers.
The lucky customer selected this time was a student from a nearby high school, who was also one of their earlier followers.
Besides himself, he also brought a classmate.
This time, the theme is chicken.
"—Then I'll try it first." Song Yinxuan nodded, then earnestly assured, "But I've memorized the script perfectly! Even if I don't like the food, I'll definitely try my best to make it taste good!"
Liu Zhuohao smiled helplessly.
This sounds like he doesn't cook anything good and that he only makes things look good because of other people's acting skills.
However, he is aware that individual taste differences are an objective reality. Especially for those accustomed to the rich flavors and spiciness of Sichuan and Chongqing cuisine, the fresh and mellow taste of Chaoshan cuisine can sometimes be misunderstood as having no flavor.
As someone who used to own a beef hot pot restaurant, he knew this very well.
To meet market demand, he even invited a few chefs to eat at Shu Da Xia restaurant several times under the pretext of team building, and secretly learned their soup base as part of the menu.
Before long, the proprietress herself brought in a large tray with four stewing pots on it.
A bowl of stew was served to each person first.
The black-boned chicken, red dates, and codonopsis root make a clear soup with a few golden oil droplets floating on the surface, and a faint hint of the bittersweet aroma of Panax notoginseng.
"Is this a medicinal diet?"
Soymilk, who was initially a bit picky about the environment, changed its expression instantly after taking a spoonful and putting it in its mouth.
The broth is warm and soothing as it goes down your throat, its sweet and savory flavor spreading layer by layer, its warmth penetrating straight into your stomach and abdomen, providing ultimate comfort.
"I guess so, it's a local home-style stew," Liu Zhuohao replied. Having grown up drinking soups, he rarely thought about the concept of "medicinal cuisine."
His main focus was not on the crows and the soy milk, but on Song Yinxuan.
Under Liu Zhuohao's watchful gaze, Song Yinxuan picked up a white porcelain soup spoon, scooped up a spoonful of soup, gently blew on it, and then carefully brought it to her lips, taking a small sip.
She narrowed her eyes slightly, savoring the moment.
"Pretty sweet?" She smacked her lips, her tone uncertain. "And a little... sweet aftertaste?"
"Yes, the sweetness of the red dates and codonopsis, and the lingering sweetness of the notoginseng, this soup can replenish qi and nourish blood," Liu Zhuohao explained.
Upon hearing about replenishing qi and blood, Song Yinxuan's eyes lit up. She drank a few more sips and even ate the black-boned chicken and red dates from the pot.
The following dishes were served one after another: golden and crispy oyster omelets, savory and flavorful salt and pepper mantis shrimp, stir-fried beef with kale and broccoli with a rich wok hei (wok aroma), incredibly fresh and delicious stir-fried clams with basil, and fragrant baked chicken with fermented bean paste —
These are all delicious, home-style dishes with strong local characteristics.
Crow and Soy Milk ate with great enthusiasm, frequently touching each dish with their chopsticks and praising it highly.
However, Song Yinxuan, who was an important partner tonight, had a somewhat subtle expression as she tasted each dish.
She ate quite a lot, but after each chew, a hint of confusion would always cross her brow.
Liu Zhuohao observed this, and as she put down her chopsticks again and hesitated slightly before looking at the next dish, he calmly spoke up, expressing her feeling: "It's very bland, isn't it?"
When she asked the question, Song Yinxuan was holding a thin shell, and her fingers froze in mid-air.
She raised her head, her round eyes looking at Liu Zhuohao. She didn't speak, but nodded slightly. A few stray hairs that weren't tied up with the hair tie swayed gently with the movement.
It wasn't that the food was bad; the crow and the soy milk next to her clearly told her that the dishes were delicious.
But for her, it wasn't that amazing.
"Except for this salt and pepper mantis shrimp, the rest are pretty much the same," Song Yinxuan said honestly, adding that she didn't use the local mantis shrimp.
"That's normal. I just said it might be a bit bland for you." Liu Zhuohao had expected this. "I also had a few friends from Sichuan and Chongqing when I was in school. They all came from a young age and came with their parents to work."
"Although I've been here for a long time, I still can't get used to the local food. Every time we eat together, I have to ask for chili peppers to add."
And this also means—
He stood up, picked up his phone, and dialed Huang Weixiong's number, instructing him to go to a nearby kway teow noodle shop and ask for some of their homemade chili sauce when he was preparing for the afternoon.
"Although we people in southern Guangdong aren't very good at eating spicy food."
Liu Zhuohao sat back down at the table and casually remarked, "But our chili sauce is pretty good."
As evening approached, the van drove closer to the night market area. When it was still a couple hundred meters away, it had to slow down completely and eventually came to a complete stop.
-
Looking ahead, as far as the eye could see, there was a dense, dark mass of people.
Not only the sidewalks, but even the original two-way lanes were almost completely filled with the surging figures, leaving only a pitifully narrow gap for electric bikes and bicycles to carefully pass through.
Cars? Motorcycles? Don't even think about it.
Although this is a night market area, not a main road, the sheer density of people gathered here still creates a very impactful scene.
"So many people!" Song Yinxuan leaned against the car window, her eyes wide, her voice filled with disbelief.
She looked at the crowd that was almost overflowing the car, her fingers resting on the door handle, hesitating, but ultimately didn't dare to open it.
She turned her head to look at the others in the car, a hint of hope in her round face as she asked, "This—it can't all be from watching tonight's filming, right?"
"It's a pity."
Crow put down his phone, which he had been trying to dial but no one answered. His face was a little pale, and he said helplessly, "I feel that most of them are here because of Boss Liu's filming."
His anxiety began to intensify.
No wonder he hadn't been able to contact anyone on the on-site photography team for over half an hour; the calls were either busy or disconnected.
Could things have gotten out of hand given this situation?
"Boss Liu."
The crow glanced behind the driver's seat, its tone serious. "I think—we might have to seriously reconsider the next episode of the 'Lucky Customer' video series. Safety first."
"—I feel like it's not feasible to produce another season of this show."
Liu Zhuohao was also somewhat taken aback by the scene. The huge crowd resembled people crowding the riverbank to watch fireworks during the Spring Festival, or people gathering around the stage to watch Chaozhou opera when he was a child.
There were so many people that you had to bring a stool and stand on it to see them.
To be honest, this is really dangerous.
"If there's a next installment," Crow said, glancing at the throng of people outside the window, "I strongly suggest filming indoors. It's more controllable and safer."
"—I'll make a call and ask." Liu Zhuohao didn't immediately respond to Crow's suggestion, but instead picked up his phone and dialed the number of a local community service center.
He was not unprepared for this shoot; he had coordinated with the service center beforehand, and urban management and street staff would be on-site to assist in maintaining order.
"Hello, it's me, Liu Zhuohao. We've arrived, right at the entrance to the night market, but the car can't go any further."
"Yes, I see people, a lot of them."
"Don't get off the bus yet? Okay, I understand. We'll wait for your arrangements in the bus. Thank you for your help."
Inside the quiet carriage, only Liu Zhuohao's voice could be heard on the phone, concise and calm.
After hanging up the phone, he turned to his companions, each with a different expression.
"Boss Liu's influence is really exaggerated. Will this be stopped?" Soy Milk murmured. She had only heard Crow describe it before, and she just blindly followed along with the praise.
Seeing it with my own eyes now is a completely different experience.
Song Yinxuan didn't speak, but her tightly pursed lips and slightly constricted pupils revealed the shock in her heart.
This scene was comparable to the view outside some popular concerts.
"Not all of them are my fans." Liu Zhuohao waved his hand. "It's a small city, the pace of life is slow, and everyone likes to join in the fun when something new happens."
"Don't worry, filming will not be canceled."
We have some experience in handling these kinds of situations—well, situations involving large gatherings of people.
His words were not entirely meant to comfort.
In the Chaoshan region, it is common to see hundreds or even thousands of people gathering for folk activities, festivals, and markets.
In addition, due to the limitations of urban planning in the early years, many streets are already narrow. To deal with the congestion of people, some local urban management officers and traffic police have long had some relatively proficient procedures.
Of course, having experience doesn't mean you can abuse it. Just like fans greeting people at the airport, doing it once or twice is just enthusiasm, but doing it every time becomes a nuisance.
"If we hold another event next time."
Liu Zhuohao looked at the still tense crow, "I'll definitely find an indoor venue, but—"
He changed the subject slightly, "The effect might not be as lively and realistic as it is outdoors."
"No matter how I arrange things and invite people indoors, the camera will inevitably show some signs of arrangement when it's filmed. Viewers might think that I hired people."
As the editor who had been reviewing Liu Zhuohao's videos for a long time, Crow immediately shook his head, his tone resolute: "No matter what, it's still better than this situation!"
"It's absolutely not worth it for that little bit of so-called realism."
As they spoke, several people in uniforms struggled to squeeze out of the crowd, holding up a safety barrier.
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