C12 An Invitation from the Deep Alley

"Big brother, I... I was wrong, I'm not sick," the middle-aged woman, who had been causing a scene just moments before, cowered at the sight of Meng Hu's muscular build.

"You're not sick, yet you're here wasting everyone's time. Are you trying to disrespect me, Meng Hu?" Meng Hu's smile was menacing, his arm muscles taut with tension.

"No, big brother, it was Wang Yan who told me to stir up trouble. I swear it wasn't my intention. Had I known you were here, not even a hundred times the courage would have made me dare to come!" The woman, already faint-hearted, was thoroughly intimidated by Meng Hu and quickly spilled the beans about the instigator.

"Wang Yan?" Meng Hu shot a questioning glance at Mo Qingge.

Mo Qingge herself was taken aback by the name. She remembered Wang Yan as someone with a poor work ethic, prone to slacking off, but not as someone who would resort to such underhanded tactics.

"I'm aware of the situation. Meng Hu, let her go," Mo Qingge instructed, her demeanor once again that of the Ice Goddess.

"Did you hear the sister-in-law? Get out of here!" Meng Hu bellowed, and the middle-aged woman scampered off in a panic.

Once the woman was out of sight, Meng Hu turned serious and asked obsequiously, "Sister-in-law, about this Wang Yan, should we brothers handle her?" He had come to realize the gravity of his past actions after the surgery. Had Zhang Zhen been a doctor without ethics, they would have been turned away without a second thought, and the opportunity for redemption would have never arisen.

As a result, Meng Hu and the other ruffians from Zhongshan Southern Street were profoundly grateful to Mo Qingge and Zhang Zhen. To offend this couple was to provoke the entire street.

"There's no need. She probably just acted out of anger and chose the wrong approach," Mo Qingge said, massaging her temples, preferring not to escalate the issue.

"Sister-in-law has a heart of gold! It's no wonder she found such a good man in Brother Zhen!" Meng Hu praised, giving her an admiring thumbs-up, his face full of sycophantic admiration.

"Let's drop the subject. Time for a tetanus shot next door, right in the rear!" Mo Qingge's heart fluttered inexplicably at the mention of Zhang Zhen. In her fluster, she gestured dismissively.

"Uh..." Meng Hu, a burly man standing at 1.8 meters, was frozen in place, the picture of despair.

A shot in the butt!

Why on earth did he have to show off that day!

...

At home in the Linjiang Villa District, Zhang Zhen was scrolling with his mouse, perusing content on his computer.

"The Kindling System requires data collection to grant rewards. Plus, it seems that without mastering this information and skills, the system won't recognize my efforts," Zhang Zhen mused, turning his attention to the news headlines on the web page.

"Ten-Second Wonder! Can You Beat His Precision?"

"Global Top Ten Surprise Challenges! He's Conquered the First Three!"

"This Man Made History! Another Chapter for the Viral Café!"

A barrage of sensational headlines from various media outlets had taken over social platforms. In recent days, Gray Rabbit and the "Ten-Second Man" had become hot topics of debate.

"All I wanted was a free meal, and look what happened," Zhang Zhen lamented as he browsed through netizens' comments. The discussions about him had polarized into two distinct camps.

One camp was convinced of Zhang Zhen's remarkable reflexes, believing he had the skill to precisely stop at ten seconds three consecutive times.

The other camp dismissed him as a mere entertainer, a clown brought in by the café for spectacle, with all his feats programmed and unrelated to his actual abilities.

The debate reached a fever pitch when a self-proclaimed "Ten-Second Challenge World Record Holder" entered the fray.

He announced, "It's impossible for anyone to hit ten seconds with millisecond precision three times in a row. I'm applying to challenge the Guinness World Record again and am inviting this mysterious ten-second man to face me."

"However... when it comes to world records, Eagle was an athlete before he enlisted. He always had his sights set on breaking a world record." Zhang Zhen's gaze grew distant as he was transported back to the war-torn days of his past.

Eagle was the team's scout and the fastest runner in the entire military.

His teammates would joke that not even the Grim Reaper's bullets could catch up to Eagle on the battlefield, and the roar of artillery was merely his starting signal.

Yet, even a man who could outrun Death himself eventually fell.

Ring ring ring, ring ring ring.

As Zhang Zhen's thoughts were adrift in memories, a sharp ringtone abruptly shattered his reverie.

"Hello?" "Good day, is this Mr. Zhang who completed the ten-second challenge at Deep Alley Restaurant recently? I'm the front desk customer service representative from Deep Alley." "Yes, that's me. What can I do for you?" Zhang Zhen mused, somewhat bemused that even restaurants had customer service these days.

The receptionist's voice quivered with excitement upon confirming it was indeed Zhang Zhen, "Mr. Zhang, our restaurant would like to invite you to an event where you'll attempt to break a Guinness World Record. Whether you succeed or fail, you'll be awarded a lifetime free membership card to our establishment." It seemed he had become a target for their marketing efforts.

Zhang Zhen chuckled dryly, shaking his head, "I'm sorry, but I have no intention of participating in any public events at the moment." His identity was already quite unique within the country, and despite three years of laying low, which made some forget he ever existed, he couldn't afford to drop his guard.

Unless it was absolutely necessary, he had no desire to step into the limelight.

"What about a cash prize of 100,000 yuan, or a month-long luxury trip to the Maldives for you and your partner? We could even appoint you as the ambassador for our restaurant, with a monthly salary to boot," the receptionist pleaded, her voice laced with desperation upon hearing his refusal.

Their trendy establishment thrived on viral events to draw in crowds. Without the buzz, the bustling business could quickly cool off.

Having snagged Zhang Zhen as a potential draw, Deep Alley was desperate not to let him slip away.

"I apologize, but I'm not interested. If there's nothing else, I should go..." Zhang Zhen said with resolve, ready to end the call.

At that moment, a crisp, cool voice pierced through Zhang Zhen's ears.

"Is the recipe for the signature dessert, the Swan Sandflakes, from the three-star Michelin restaurant Tang Pavilion, enough to get you on camera once?" The voice was chilly yet tinged with a hint of eagerness, distinct from Mo Qingge's frosty demeanor. This person seemed more like a no-nonsense, powerful woman who gets things done quickly and efficiently.

Yet, what truly astonished Zhang Zhen was not the tone of her voice, but the content of her words.

"Swan Sandflakes?" he echoed, surprised.

Although he had completed his culinary manual on steamed buns, the system had rated his Chinese cooking skills at a mere D-plus.

This meant that Zhang Zhen had significant room to grow in his culinary expertise.

And this fabled Chinese dessert, which had garnered endless praise from foreigners, was the very dish that Zhang Zhen had long sought to master but had yet to acquire.