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August 27th was the day all the Taifeng Building staff eagerly anticipated…

Pah, the test-tasting day.

It was an important day when everyone only needed to work half a day yet enjoyed a full day’s pay, occurring just once a month.

It was also the day Jiang Feng, Wu Minqi, Ji Yue, and Zhang Guanghang agreed to go to an art exhibition.

It would be Jiang Feng’s first time experiencing what seemed like the highbrow activity of attending an art exhibition, which filled him with a bit of excitement.

Since opening over a month ago, Taifeng Building’s kitchen had not seen much change. In contrast, there were more personnel changes in the lobby. Mrs. Wang Xiulian took the test-tasting day as an opportunity to announce the latest staff changes in the lobby. Hence, she entrusted Fan Mei with the once significant task of announcing changes in the dish prices.

August was destined to be an extraordinary month because the sales of Jiang Feng’s special dishes finally saw a leap in growth after mid-August. The sales of many dishes jumped from zero to single or even double digits, with a very stable customer base.

Take Han Guishan for example. He came to eat at Taifeng Building at least five days a week, more punctual than clocking in for work, and always ordered the pickled vegetable dumplings. Mr. Han single-handedly propped up half the sky when it came to the sales of pickled vegetable dumplings. He almost wished to make them his staple food, with the VIP room servers often witnessing Han Youxin’s face turning green upon serving the dish.

After all, for a child his age, a pickled vegetable dumpling usually meant there was no room for anything else.

Li Hongzhang hodgepodge also garnered a loyal consumer group. Due to the large portion size, Jiang Feng heard that the regulars of Li Hongzhang hodgepodge formed a group. They were all office workers under the 996 working system who gathered to eat at Taifeng Building on weekends. Concerned that a table of people crying might affect others, they even reserved private rooms, which was very considerate for the restaurant.

In comparison, the sales of the “Romance Package” meals were left more to fate, especially since the combination of cabbage-wrapped chicken and chopped chili fish head seemed inexplicable to most.

As the sales of Jiang Feng’s special dishes steadily increased, the business-savvy Mrs. Wang Xiulian seized the moment to cancel the discounts on these dishes. Meanwhile, she also took off the menu two dishes by Taifeng’s foundational chef, Zhou Shi, which had sales comparable to the “Romance Package” meals.

If Zhou Shi continues to underperform, it’s only a matter of time until the arrival of a new chef could mean his permanent dismissal from Taifeng Building.

With no new dishes in preparation, the kitchen staff finished even earlier than the lobby workers. As Mrs. Wang Xiulian was delivering an important speech to the lobby staff, it wasn’t appropriate for Jiang Feng and the others to disturb her, so they sat in a corner waiting for Ji Yue.

Wu Minqi had pre-booked tickets for 2:00 P.M., with the art exhibition lasting until 6:00 P.M. Wu Minqi and Ji Yue originally planned to visit the exhibition until 5:00 P.M. and then head home to catch the 7:00 P.M. fried rice made by Jiang Jiankang.

Although the pickled vegetable deal hadn’t been fully negotiated and Xiulian’s sister-in-law hadn’t completed all the formalities, Mr. Jiang Jiankang was already scheduling hundreds of ways to make pickled vegetable fried rice. Supporting his research, Ji Yue’s mom even sent a batch of pickles a few days before.

So far, popular types of pickled vegetable fried rice included diced meat, shrimp, mixed veggies, cabbage, beef, and even a “land, sea, and air” variety. Mr. Jiang Jiankang, deeply engrossed in researching pickled vegetable fried rice recipes of late, had even developed outrageous versions like cauliflower, Lao Gan Ma chili sauce, and spicy strip pickled vegetable fried rice.

Eating them was usually a mix of pain and pleasure. Because before it was served, one could never be sure if they were about to encounter a culinary abomination or a mouthwatering delicacy.

Given Taifeng Building’s proximity to home, the Jiang family had been coming directly to the restaurant to dine these past few days. Mrs. Jiang usually had a dance or mahjong game with Chen Suhua in the evening and would come early to eat. Afterward, she’d take two portions to go for Chen Suhua and Professor Li.

Today was different however, because everyone was off work. With not enough dining space in the Beiping residence, and since moving up and downstairs was convenient, it was decided that tonight’s fried rice would be consumed in batches.

Those at home would eat first, followed by those out and about, and Jiang Zaidi, returning from overtime work, could enjoy the special treatment of being the last to dine alone. Jiang Shoucheng was out of luck.

Until he found a girlfriend, his diet was limited to bland yet motherly-made health meals prepared by his own mom.

Jiang Feng thought that once his aunt was done with her own diet and suddenly realized her son still didn’t have a girlfriend, that’s when Jiang Zaidi would get to experience this kind of life.

After waiting for over ten minutes in their small corner, Wang Xiulian declared the meeting over.

By the time Ji Yue changed back into her clothes and they were ready to head to the gallery, Jiang Feng felt his pocket and realized he left his keys in the locker room. He let the other three wait, telling them he’d go retrieve the keys.

The men’s and women’s changing rooms at Taifeng Building were adjacent. After Jiang Feng got his keys, he was about to push the door to leave when it opened half way, and he overheard the conversation from outside.

“I thought with all her secrecy these days, trying to brownnose the little boss, she’d have pulled off something impressive. But come the month’s end, she’s still stuck in Area A, barely passing her probation, just like us.”

“You mean she’s not even pretty with makeup, where else could she be but Area A?”

“I actually thought she’d skyrocket to the upstairs VIP rooms. Seems fawning over the little boss didn’t get her anywhere.”

“The little boss doesn’t care about us in the lobby, what’s the point of cozying up to him? Qi Rou is the real smart one. Barely a few days into the job and she hooks up with Supervisor Ji, landing a greeter’s role that’s easier and pays more than ours. Enough about them. Do you guys have any plans for the afternoon? I know there’s a cosmetics section in a mall running a promotion, 40% off, you know…”

Jiang Feng, who had been hesitating behind the door and didn’t dare to come out: …

It turns out that what is depicted in TV dramas is actually true; the most widespread gossip in the workplace really does take place in the women’s restroom and locker room.

At this moment, Jiang Feng even felt a bit of regret. Why didn’t you guys gossip about me? As Taifeng Building’s mascot and owner, he occasionally wanted to hear his employees’ genuine opinions and inner thoughts about himself.

To hear how the employees praised him behind his back.

With that regret, Jiang Feng and everyone else went to the art museum where the exhibition was held.

The art museum was some distance from Taifeng Building; they had to change subway lines twice. Jiang Feng and his group left after 1 PM and arrived near the museum at 2:30 PM. Since it wasn’t the weekend, there weren’t many viewers at the exhibition, and the large venue seemed somewhat deserted. Besides Jiang Feng’s party of four, there was only one other visitor at the entrance; probably inside, there weren’t many people either.

It was only after Jiang Feng read the personal introduction and summary of works of the emerging Italian artist holding the exhibition that he realized there were only 17 paintings on display today.

Seventeen paintings; unless the venue was large enough, Jiang Feng was confident he could finish today’s visit in under 10 minutes.

Speaking of which, the only foreign artists he knew by name were Da Vinci, Picasso, and Van Gogh. Up until the day before yesterday, when he looked it up, he still thought “The Scream” was painted by Van Gogh.

Wait a second, who painted “The Scream” again?

After Jiang Feng briefly toured the entire venue and, with his completely amateurish eye, finished appreciating the 17 paintings, just over 20 minutes had passed.

It could only be said that the art museum was larger than Jiang Feng had anticipated.

Then Jiang Feng was surprised to find that Wu Minqi’s way of viewing the exhibition was similar to his, only that Wu Minqi walked slower and would stop for a few minutes in front of the paintings she liked, but she wouldn’t linger for more than two or three minutes. So, by the time Jiang Feng had finished touring the venue, Wu Minqi was only looking at the 11th painting.

Ji Yue’s way of viewing the exhibition was quite distinctive; she would skim some paintings with a glance and stop in front of others, staring blankly as she did so.

Among the four of them, it turned out that only Zhang Guanghang seemed to be genuinely here to view the exhibition.

So, after half an hour, the outing of the four had become—Ji Yue and Zhang Guanghang watching the exhibition, Jiang Feng and Wu Minqi watching them watch the exhibition.

As Jiang Feng watched, he noticed that Ji Yue initially was looking at the paintings, but a few seconds before she started to space out, her eyes were fixed on the price tags below the paintings.

Jiang Feng hadn’t noticed the prices of the paintings before and was stunned the moment he glanced at them.

900000.

Jiang Feng and Ji Yue stared together at the row of zeros and fell into contemplation.

“Ji Yue, what’s the highest price you’ve sold a painting for?” Jiang Feng asked.

“2700.” Ji Yue’s gaze lingered on the string of zeros.

Indeed, the difference between a painter and a comic artist isn’t just a single word; disregard Ji Yue, a pseudo comic artist who is two words off, they are separated by several zeros before the decimal point.

The two continued to stare at the zeros and fell into contemplation.

Wu Minqi noticed the two of them actually staring at the same painting and spacing out. Curious, she walked up and also saw the price tag. The three of them together stared at the zeros and fell into contemplation.

“Qiqi, does your family buy paintings?” Jiang Feng started to consider the specifics of raising his future children, one to learn cooking and another to learn painting.

“My grandfather bought a painting by Qi Baishi a few years ago, but it was later appraised as a fake,” Wu Minqi said.

“My dad once bought a painting by Tang Bohu, which also turned out to be a fake after appraisal,” Ji Yue replied, turning her head to lock eyes with Wu Minqi.

Sisters, both our families have suffered a loss in the name of culture.