Chapter 800: 790. Skilled Actor and Old Zhong_1
A crowd surged back into the hotel, and Lun Chuan was quickly called up to the business room. The other party was in such a hurry that he only had ti to ask Master Zhong to prepare lunch for one before he rushed upstairs.
This was the only room in the hotel, besides the presidential suite, that could be used for office etings, and for their film crew who counted every penny, it was the most appropriate (cheapest).
When he knocked on the door, the other party was still in the midst of an argunt, and their spittle nearly splattered on his face. Fortunately, Lun Chuan stepped back quickly.
Inside the room, about a dozen people were huddled around a table with notebooks in hand. The director, who was drawing storyboards, banged his notebook on the table in a loud clash with the props manager.
In any other film crew this would clearly be impossible, but at Arctic Circle, it was a common sight. It was evident that the props used for this storyboard were either unreasonable or over budget…
In short, this was how they spent each day from the project’s initiation until filming began.
Without this collective brainstorming (showering each other with insults), progress could hardly be accelerated. And in the entertainnt industry, ti is money.
However, upon seeing Lun Chuan, Director Zhang couldn’t help but light up, “Why have you called the main actor over—wait a mont, have I auditioned this role? I don’t have any recollection!”
Lun Chuan: …
Everyone was still smoking in the room, but Lun Chuan had to pull down his mask, “Sorry, Director Zhang, I am Endless River, and also Lun Chuan.”
They had spoken over the phone and through voice chat before but had never t in person.
After saying this, he nodded to everyone and quickly put his mask back on, coughing twice, “Apologies, my respiratory tract is a bit sensitive.”
Everyone paused for a mont.
Following that, those who were smoking stubbed out their cigarettes, those with scripts began fanning the air, and soone quickly opened the windows, turning the air purifier up to its highest setting…
In the hotel’s dimly lit ambiance, he pulled down his mask and offered a faint smile, coupled with that fragile respiratory system…
It was sinful! How could they smoke indoors?!
Director Zhang instantly let out a long sigh, “So the lead actor is decided just like that? It has to be soone like him!”
What about acting power? What about performance skills? With his appearance and temperant, he could just stand there motionless, and they could spin an entire tale of national ruin and personal woe around him!
So people stand there with vacant minds and no aura, while others stand there like majestic pines, with a re lift of their eyelids exuding a sense of story.
The casting director laughed awkwardly, “The contract has been signed; are you considering paying a penalty fee?”
The assistant director also hurriedly interjected to Director Li, “The original author is here, shouldn’t we discuss the plot first?”
At the ntion of a penalty fee, Director Zhang cooled down—no one could dream of nicking money from his crew!
He only sighed at that mont, looking at Lun Chuan, “You, the original author, do you want to make a cao appearance?”
Lun Chuan declined the offer tactfully.
So, amidst Director Zhang’s sighs and groans, the writers looked at Lun Chuan, inspired as if a spring had burst forth, even the props and art departnts kept staring at Lun Chuan, muttering and scribbling notes and sketches…
They finished discussing three important scenes that morning and completed three sets of makeup and costu designs for the male lead, even detailing the weapons.
Although the basic props and costus were already prepared, it was no issue; many scenes were scheduled last in sequence by location, so there was still ti!
It wasn’t until noon that everyone, with their stomachs rumbling, concluded this round of discussion and notified the hotel to deliver the food.
Yet the al for Lun Chuan was personally delivered by Chef Zhong the mont the room number was sent out.
The chef, pushing the food cart, looked at him with a particularly eager and attentive gaze.
Lun Chuan: … He had a premonition.
Seeing the throng of people inside the room, Chef Zhong also lowered his voice, “Mr. Lun, may I ask where you bought these ingredients?”
Old Zhou really regretted it!
He had cooked for many celebrities and tycoons at this hotel and had handled plenty of their brought ingredients—everything that ran in the sky or swam in the water was nothing unusual to him.
At most, everyone would casually judge the quality of the ingredients when there was nothing else to do.
But the ingredients Lun Chuan brought today, although ticulously sorted, were all sealed up and didn’t look appealing, so he treated them as if they were just special local produce.
The only request was to use these ingredients, but there was no restriction to use only these. Therefore, he soaked trella in the morning, soaked dried eggplant, and scooped out half a jar of pickled long beans.
Local produce, right? It’s all about eating sothing with your al that tastes like “ho.” And since these were grounded, storable ingredients, he had already planned the nu—a stewed eggplant with dried at for lunch, stir-fried minced pork with pickled long beans, accompanied by a bowl of trella soup and a bowl of rice.
Ordinary with no distinctiveness, right?
But since soone brought the ingredients asking for this kind of experience, who could guess the tastes and thoughts of the wealthy?
Out of habit, he picked up a pickled long bean to taste it, to see how well it was pickled. To his surprise, after one bean he went for three more!
If it weren’t for professional ethics, he might have emptied the half jar!
It was simply divine!
No way!
The pickled long beans looked so ordinary; how could they be so delicious? The sour and crispy sensation in his mouth was so refreshing, saliva gushed out uncontrollably, prompting him to wave over the other chefs to try one themselves, each picking up a bean with chopsticks.
Just one bean each.
The diced pickled long beans in the jar, with five or six people, didn’t even make up a three-centiter segnt—a pitiful sight indeed.
But influenced by Old Zhou’s reaction, everyone tried it without contempt, cautiously putting it into their mouths to taste.
Wow!!!
Everyone was stunned.
Gathered around, they speculated seven or eight potential pickling recipes but still couldn’t pinpoint why the pickled long beans tasted so incredible!
And that wasn’t all.
Old Zhou then carefully opened a jar of bright red chopped chili peppers, gingerly picked a bit mixed with minced garlic, and stuffed it into his mouth.
In just a mont, his entire face turned red, and he stood there, gasping for breath with his mouth open:
“So spicy! So powerful! This is superb…”
But this ti, Old Zhou didn’t ask anyone else to taste.
“When have we ever had sothing this good in our lives? I’ll tell you, the custor is extraordinary, very low-key. It might be so amazing ingredients… I’m tasting this to cook, you’re not cooking, so why taste?”
But there was no need for others to taste it, as by noon the trella soup bubbled with a slight sweetness, the rice stead fragrantly, the stewed dried eggplant was tender and rich, and the flavor of the pickled long beans was overwhelmingly dominant!
The entire kitchen staff now recognized the extraordinary nature of these ingredients.
So much so that Old Zhou had to lock them up in a cabinet, just in case.
Afterward, he watched over the als, waiting until Lun Chuan gave him the room number, and then he pushed the cart, steady and fast, into the elevator.
Now, even though he knew better, as a qualified chef, he should have been eagerly watching the custor, right?
Lun Chuan looked at the al in front of him, and for a mont, was speechless.
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