Intern Chen
"They don't even show their faces when they're messing around, so there's no comparison," Xiaolian commented sharply.
Zheng Cheng suppressed his laughter and thought seriously for a moment. "Yeah, Overcooked isn't aiming for huge popularity, it's taking a practical approach. But I do think their recipes could be a good reference for our restaurant practice classes."
Thanks to Overcooked, Zheng Cheng finally got an A in the restaurant practical class that he had been avoiding.
But this compulsory course was so painful, so painful that he had to stay in Hu Hanyu's body for a few hours every day when he got home to recover.
"The kitchen is terrible." Zheng Cheng lay on Hu Hanyu like a koala and muttered softly, "The chef yelled at me again today."
"What are you doing now?" Hu Hanyu always had to laugh when he heard him ask, "Are you chopping vegetables too slowly, or are you tearing paper towels to wipe the table again?"
"The steak didn't get wiped dry and fried in the pan. I was shocked."
"I don't think this is enough to scold you, did you get splashed?"
"No, it's from the next group." Zheng Cheng rested his chin on Hu Hanyu's shoulder. "I ran a few steps and bumped into the chef... Stop laughing! I'm shaking so hard that my head hurts."
In order to give him final practice, Zheng Cheng later recorded an episode of Overcooked, and the number of views for that episode set a new record in their history.
[I now understand why Hu Nao is so capable. It turns out my roommate is a loser, hahahaha]
[I'm done. I didn't expect someone to be worse than me.]
I think he's playing me.
[Even though he made a fuss, the one he made in the end looked pretty delicious. I want to see more hahahaha]
Zheng Cheng was glad that none of his Chinese friends took the same class as him, otherwise they would have noticed that the timid look he showed in front of the stove was exactly the same as his roommate in the video.
As a result, Zheng Cheng didn't go home for spring break or summer vacation. He was anxious to complete the school's 800-hour internship requirement and applied for an internship in the hotel and catering department on campus.
"Mr. Zheng, you are fired." Zheng Cheng got out of Hu Hanyu's car with sleepy eyes that morning. He was stopped by his supervisor before he could change his clothes.
"I'm sorry, what did I do wrong?" Zheng Cheng's sleepiness disappeared. "I haven't served the wrong dish for two days in a row, right?"
"I'm sorry I didn't express myself clearly. It was due to other reasons." The supervisor's tone of voice sounded somewhat respectful for some reason.
The other reason is Chen Min.
"No! I don't agree!" Chen Min vented on the phone, "How can my son be serving dishes for others? Send him to Forsythe!"
A week later, Zheng Cheng sat in Forsythe's New York CEO's office with a pout on her face.
"Even if you didn't go to school in China, you've probably heard the saying 'good things should stay in the family'," Zheng Lu snorted coldly. "I'm in the US this month, so you stay in Forsythe."
"Since you've given me the penthouse suite," Zheng Cheng crossed his arms, "I reluctantly agree."
Zheng Liuke put a lot of thought into "tricking" Zheng Cheng to come to Forsyth for an internship. In addition to the top-floor suite, he also promised to arrange kitchen management training for Hu Hanyu, with the class taught by Forsyth's executive chef himself.
After succeeding, Zheng Lu smiled evilly: Zheng Cheng, Zheng Cheng, don’t really think that you can just let it go like this. Am I a good person?
He immediately sent Zheng Cheng directly to Forset Hall.
As a result, this summer, an intern named Chen became famous in Fort Worth, New York.
Several interns who were in the same class as Chen were secretly betting that he wouldn't be able to make it past a week.
A week later, the lobby manager couldn't hold on any longer.
In fact, Zheng Cheng didn't cause any trouble. He just choked a few guests to death.
"I hope you can respect those who are working hard, ma'am." Zheng Cheng smiled and spoke with a genuine American accent. "If you think that Asian people can't provide you with perfect service, then please leave Forsythe."
"What did I say wrong? All hotels are run by Chinese, and you are discriminating against him? He deserves that he can only afford a standard king-size room." Zheng Cheng was still talking back when he was scolded by the manager.
"Besides, how could I be disrespectful to her? I even called her Madam, not...?"
"Chen! That's enough!" The lobby manager covered his face. "Please let me go. I have a family to support."
After being forced to apologize, Zheng Cheng returned to the front desk with a sad face. The other interns joked with him, "You're so arrogant, Chen! How many days can you stay in a king-size bed room with your one-month internship salary?"
They didn't know that Chen, who claimed that "his home was very close, so he didn't live in the staff dormitory to save money", actually lived in a penthouse suite.
"That bastard horse-faced guy insists on training my character, and it really pisss me off every day." Zheng Cheng was taking a bath, applying a face mask and lying on Hu Hanyu's lap. "I really don't understand. How can those people, with just a few bucks, act so arrogantly?"
"Only a half-full bottle of water makes a sound when it's shaken. People with a little money love to make noise the most." Hanyu was reading the textbook of his Le Cordon Bleu course while biting the pen. The notes almost covered the original text and it was difficult to read.
The arrogant intern Chen was finally sent to the executive lounge.
"The horse-faced man knows I don't drink, so he's just worried that I might cheat. He's just wishful thinking." Zheng Cheng angrily called all the interns over and offered each of them a drink.
"Chen, you'd better be careful. The people in the administrative level are all real rich people." A colleague reminded him nervously.
Zheng Cheng smiled disapprovingly: What a coincidence, he has entered his comfort zone.
It’s true that Chen worked quite diligently in the executive lounge, except that he found it difficult to shake the shaker when it was almost time to get off work.
"Thank you, no need to tip." A female customer ordered three margaritas in a row and kept chatting with him. He finally handed the shaker to the customer and said, "Would you like to shake it yourself? This one's on you."
The administrative director saw him so frightened and thought his job was about to be ruined.
Who would have thought that his little willfulness would make the female guest laugh so hard that the next day she introduced several friends to come and chat with the interesting Chen in the executive lounge.
"I admire your conversation, knowledge, and frank personality," the woman said as she left, handing him a business card. "If you need to find other work in the future, perhaps you can contact me."
The female guest is Ms. Miles, a famous New York architect who designs secluded residences for the wealthy in Beverly Hills. Now she has assets worth hundreds of millions and has become a free investor.
What we mean is that the renovation of the old house in Zhejiang is stable.
"See, truly rich people don't care about attitude at all, they only see the essence of people." Zheng Cheng held up the business card to show Hu Hanyu, his fingers trembling slightly.
The shaker is really too heavy.
Zheng Cheng went to ask Zheng Lu to transfer him to the executive room department.
"You, go make the bed? My dear, I can't stand any more complaints. You'd better order people around." Zheng Lu was frightened and offered him a supervisor position.
Zheng Cheng is very popular in the administrative level, and the style of the customers here is within his comfort zone. Some old customers who have long private rooms have heard their parents talk about them before, and this time they finally saw them in person.
"I've taken notes on my personal preferences and daily routines." Zheng Cheng talked about these things, and he knew them all like the back of his hand. "Every one of them is the same as Lao Zheng, the details and the rules. Fortunately, I've already gotten used to them."
"Great." Hu Hanyu reached out to touch his face, and Zheng Cheng discovered that he had a Band-Aid on his finger.
"What's wrong with your hand?" He immediately took Hanyu's hand and looked at it.
He has been working three shifts recently, and he often falls asleep right after taking a bath in his room. Looking back, he really didn't care much about Hu Hanyu.
"I cut it during class." Hu Hanyu habitually downplayed the situation. "I'm a little unfamiliar with the Western-style kitchen knife method."
Compared with intern Chen, student Han is much more ordinary.
At the beginning of the school year, Hanyu made some jokes because of his poor English, but he didn't understand what the chef was scolding or what the students were laughing at, so he was not hurt.
Fortunately, he studied hard, and gradually Hanyu not only understood what was taught, but his performance was also excellent.
Knowing that he was a Japanese chef, the head chef asked him to demonstrate his bare-handed fish cutting and sashimi knife skills. Although his knife skills were not very good, his neat and clean Japanese knife skills and plating were enough to win him a standing ovation. By the time he graduated, he had made several chef friends from all over the world.
"I know you can do it!" Hu Hanyu, who was holding his graduation certificate, was unsurprisingly given a flying pounce by Zheng Cheng who skipped class.
"Han, I've heard that your boyfriend is eating guests' meals on the executive floor." The chef knew Zheng Cheng's identity and deliberately joked with them.
"No, Uncle Frank, what do you mean by stealing? I was invited to taste the food." Zheng Cheng raised a finger to correct him. "Your paella is very good, but next time, put less seafood. There won't be enough rice."
"What kind of guest invites you to dinner?" Hu Hanyu's expression changed.
"It's not a romantic encounter, it's my high school classmate." Zheng Cheng knew what he was thinking, and leaned over to kiss his ear without paying attention to anyone else. "I'll take you to meet him after the internship is over."
Zheng Cheng's internship also came to a successful conclusion. In the final two weeks, he finally got to live what he calls "a normal life"—sitting in the president's office.
"I will take back everything that belongs to me now!" He sat on Zheng You's chair and gritted his teeth.
"You can take it if you want. I really want to retire early." Zheng Lu drank his American coffee with double sugar with confidence. "I don't believe you can eat the whole Forset just by walking from bottom to top."
"You're pretty cool, okay? You horse-faced, scheming guy." Zheng Cheng stuck out his tongue and returned to his assistant's seat.
Zheng You didn't rush back to sit in the CEO's chair. Instead, he walked over to Zheng Cheng and asked, "Have you read the statistics for the Housekeeping and Membership Departments I sent you?"
"I've read it, read it, and read it. I knew you would ask, so I insisted on finishing it after working the night shift. If I get any more tired, I'll have another attack." Zheng Cheng moved his neck, deliberately trying to scare him.
In fact, he had regular face-to-face consultations, and Hu Hanyu watched him take his medicine every day. His condition was under very good control, and he had returned to a normal routine for a long time.
"What do you think?" Zheng Liu didn't beat around the bush and his expression became serious.
"After watching for the past five years, my biggest impression is the age of the customer base." Zheng Cheng had indeed been watching carefully and immediately replied, "The average age has been rising, which means..."
"Only regular customers come to Folsett." Zheng Liu nodded and answered quickly, "I want to tell you, Chengcheng, you're right."
Although Yuanlv Group seems to be still expanding in the short term, in fact, their customer base is gradually becoming single.
As a mainstay, Forset has a very strong group of loyal customers, but it is becoming increasingly difficult to expand new customer base.
"Indeed, the overall service and environment are too old-fashioned. Young people, especially young rich people, will not choose us," Zheng Cheng concluded.
Whether they like it or not, the era of Zheng Yuan and Chen Min is drawing to a close. The baton passed to the next generation is likely to dissolve into a hollow bubble, having fully reaped the benefits of the era.
Zheng Lu, who had helped his father make a comeback once before, understood very well the importance of transformation to the group. He had already discussed many concerns about the future with Zheng Miao.
"We really need you, Chengcheng." Zheng You had never been so frank and sincere with Zheng Cheng before. "We also need someone with ideas to help us define the future of Yuanyou."
"Give me another year." Zheng Cheng said after a moment of silence, "In a year, I will become the next generation of Yuanliu."
His long-term vision, which he had already planned in his mind, was quietly taking shape with the accumulation of knowledge day by day.
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