On a rainy night, at No. 37 Old Street, Emma City, Wang Feng, the fourth generation descendant of Wang's Pepper Chicken, "picked up" an embarrassed woman in a white dress from the tricycle shed in the backyard.
She was barefoot, had a bruised ankle, and had only one diamond earring left, but she threw a diamond watch into the sewer.
He said: "My name is Wang Feng, the peak of the mountain."
She said: "My name is Murong Xiaoxiao, I escaped from marriage."
——From then on, the centuries-old stewed pot met the wealthy daughter, and the fireworks in the market were dyed with roses and thorns.
Three months into the bet, the check worth 100,000 was shredded in public.
Chairman Murong sneered: "In three months, I want you to go home crying."
Wang Feng signed his name crookedly on the bet, turned to her and said, "Let's get started, we have to deal with twenty chickens today."
She learned from scratch——
The first time I caught a chicken and my face was covered with feathers, the first time I used tweezers to pluck out the feathers, I got blisters, and the first time I tasted the "sweetness" of the century-old marinade, my eyes turned red.
He said: "People from the Wang family cannot bend their spines."
She said: "From today on, I am Wang Xiaomei, your partner."
Crisis ensues——
Reports against others, arson by black hands, supply chain disruptions, online rumors... In every desperate situation, she showed her Cornell Business School certificate, and he held on to his ancestral bone-cleaving knife.
"The Murong family's daughter can't just arrange flowers and play the piano."
"The Wang family's stewed pot has survived hundreds of years of wind and rain. Are you still afraid of catching fire?"
