novelraw Chapter 9: Choosing a roadside stall for a date?
Chapter 9: Choosing a roadside stall for a date?
The air in the living room froze instantly.
Lin Shishi's hand, holding the coffee cup, froze in mid-air.
Shen Xiaoyuan, who was sitting on the sofa next to her, quickly lowered her head, her shoulders shaking uncontrollably.
Zhang Hao turned his head to one side, trying hard to suppress his laughter.
This lousy show has been running for two seasons, and every male guest who hears that he can go on a date with the female lead is overjoyed and practically ready to compose a poem on the spot.
This kid's first reaction was to ask if we were working overtime.
A crackling sound of electricity came from the loudspeaker.
"Calculate!"
The director on the other end of the line gritted his teeth, emphasizing each word.
"Payment will be made according to the highest possible notification fee standard!"
"Okay!"
Song Ze nodded immediately, stuffed the remaining boiled eggs in his hand into his mouth in two bites, his cheeks puffed out high.
He stood up and casually patted the egg crumbs off his trousers.
"I'll pay more. Boss, let's go."
His movements were extremely natural, just like a foreman who had just received his wages and was about to go to the construction site.
The live stream chat was flooded with comments.
[Hahaha, this guy is amazing!]
[The working class's DNA has kicked in; as long as the money's right, it doesn't matter who you date!]
[So real! It's practically a stand-in for my own voice.]
"Change your clothes. Meet at the entrance in half an hour."
Lin Shishi put down her coffee cup, stood up, and went straight upstairs.
Half an hour later.
At the entrance of the large villa.
Lin Shishi walked down the steps.
She changed into a high-quality haute couture outfit: a beige silk shirt paired with high-waisted wide-leg pants, her hair styled in casual curls, and even her stiletto heels exuded sophistication.
This is definitely the standard outfit for female celebrities when they go out. They could go straight to an art museum or a Michelin three-star restaurant for a ribbon-cutting ceremony and it wouldn't look out of place.
She stopped at the doorway.
Standing next to him was a man wearing a black T-shirt and gray shorts.
She was wearing a pair of black Crocs.
Shoe decorations, or even SpongeBob SquarePants.
The two standing together looked like female celebrities walking the red carpet who had been temporarily paired up by the security team.
The image is extremely distorted.
The crew opened the door of the black van.
The two sat on either side of the back row, with enough space between them to fit two more Shen Xiaoyuans.
The filming director, sitting in the passenger seat, turned around, holding a schedule card.
"Teachers, our date today costs two thousand yuan. You can choose the destination."
"Go to Lavite French restaurant on Huaihai Road."
Lin Shishi gave a name.
"Go to Donghui Street."
Song Ze made a direct steal.
The carriage was silent for a second.
"Donghui Street? That's the food street next to the university town."
The director was stunned.
"right."
Song Ze nodded, his voice full of confidence.
"The roadside stalls over there offer generous portions that will fill you up."
"With a budget of two thousand yuan, eating at roadside stalls will cost at most one hundred. The remaining one thousand nine hundred—"
He pointed to himself.
"Can I cash out and keep it in my pocket?"
The director almost dropped the flowchart in his hand.
Dude, this is the budget for a dating reality show, do you think the production crew is going to reimburse you?
Lin Shishi turned her head away.
She glanced at Song Ze's baggy shorts and Crocs with disdain.
She tried to use the Cold War to thwart this absurd proposal.
He didn't say a word, just stared at her.
Song Ze didn't respond at all.
He crossed his legs, and SpongeBob SquarePants shoes swayed in mid-air.
"Don't force yourself."
"I'm just here to eat. If you don't like it, just stand there and watch me eat."
The van was parked at the intersection of Donghui Street, which was filled with the smell of cooking oil.
Around 9 a.m., the morning and night markets of the food street seamlessly connect, and the air is filled with the mixed aromas of rice noodle sausage, grilled cold noodles, and grilled squid.
The college students and passersby who were watching quickly gathered around.
Countless mobile phones were raised and used to take pictures.
Lin Shishi stood awkwardly on the curb and quickly put on large black sunglasses.
She looked down at the oil-stained asphalt road, her stiletto heels caught in a dilemma.
Song Ze has long since disappeared.
Using the agility of his shorts, he squeezed into a pushcart selling rice noodle rolls and grilled cold noodles to queue up and order.
While taking out his phone to scan the QR code, he also chatted with the boss about whether or not to give him free scallions.
Ten minutes later.
Song Ze returned carrying two paper bowls filled with junk food.
He straddled the red plastic stool next to the barbecue stall with an air of nonchalance.
Head down, frantically creating.
He stuffed a big mouthful of grilled cold noodles into his mouth, not caring at all about the chili sauce smeared on his lips.
Three cameras were filming them from the side.
The viewers in the live stream chat were practically drooling.
[This made me hungry first thing in the morning.]
[He's eating so deliciously, is this some kind of new mukbang?]
Lin Shishi stood stiffly half a meter away from him.
She stood straight.
Song Ze finished a bite of grilled cold noodles and looked up.
He picked up a golden-brown, crispy fried starch sausage from another paper bowl.
It was handed directly to Lin Shishi's lips.
"Eat."
"Isn't this much tastier than that lousy cat food salad you female celebrities make?"
The aroma of deep-fried food wafted straight into my nose.
It's coated with a tempting layer of chili and cumin powder.
Lin Shishi hadn't eaten breakfast.
Then, stimulated by the aroma of this high-carbohydrate food, my stomach immediately started rumbling.
She hesitated for two seconds.
She reached out and took off her mask, then leaned a little closer and tentatively took a small bite from Song Ze's hand.
The crispy outer layer explodes between your teeth.
The salty, savory, spicy, and numbing flavors instantly take over your taste buds.
She chewed twice, then visibly paused.
He quickened his pace, snatched the skewer directly from Song Ze's hand, and took another big bite.
This scene was transmitted live to the live broadcast room via camera.
The comments section erupted.
Holy crap! The goddess is eating at a roadside stall!
[The aloof goddess has fallen from grace! She was fooled by a simple starchy sausage!]
To be honest, why do these two look so adorable eating at a roadside stall?
This scene evokes the image of a poor, good-for-nothing guy taking a runaway girl to dine and dash!
The two sat on plastic stools and ate rice noodle sausages.
The atmosphere of eating live at roadside stalls is extremely relaxed.
Song Zegang swallowed the last bite of grilled cold noodles.
The scrolling speed of the comments on the right side of the live stream suddenly increased abnormally.
Within seconds, the comments from passersby that were originally saying "So cute" and "Makes me hungry" were instantly swallowed up.
A large number of troll accounts with uniform prefixes and profile picture formats flooded in.
The entire screen of text turned into a glaring red.
[Plagiarist Song Ze, get out of the entertainment industry!]
[Stealing someone else's hard work to show off—shameless!]
[Boycott artists with poor reputations who create fake content to the fullest extent!]
[He stole the melody of "Late Autumn Ode" and dares to flaunt it in public; he should go back inside and work as a sewing machine!]
Boycott Song Ze! Boycott plagiarism!
The screen was instantly flooded with a deluge of insults.
The filming director stared at the comments on the monitor and suddenly sat up straight.
This is a very aggressive move; it's clear they came prepared.
He quickly asked the director through his headset to cut off the live stream.
Song Ze sat on a red plastic stool, glancing out of the corner of his eye at the cameraman dodging the lens and the director's flustered movements.
He took out a napkin and casually wiped the grease from the edge of his mouth.
He casually pulled out his phone.
Open Weibo.
The top trending topic was a wildly popular one: #Song Ze's "Liang Liang" plagiarized "Late Autumn Lyrics"#.
Clicking through reveals a barrage of videos posted by influential figures, supposedly comparing "professional styles," and a fake studio recording version released three months in advance.
"Teacher Song, let's go back to the car and wait out for a while."
The filming director leaned over and lowered his voice, sweating profusely with anxiety.
Lin Shishi threw the remaining small piece of starchy sausage into the trash can and wiped her hands with a tissue.
She also saw that news this morning.
Of course, she could tell how poorly made the so-called original song was.
But this kind of propaganda war is completely unreasonable.
She looked at Song Ze.
Song Ze stuffed his phone back into the pocket of his shorts.
Brush the residue off your hands.
"What are you doing back in the car?"
He stood up and stretched.
My gaze swept across the crowd and landed on a music store called "Sound Track" across the street corner.
A row of wooden guitars was displayed in a huge glass shop window.
"Now that we've eaten and drunk our fill, it's time to get back to work."
He walked straight toward the musical instruments.
"Teacher Song! You can't wander off like that!" The director hurriedly chased after her.
Song Ze didn't stop at all.
Push open the glass door of the music store directly.
The wind chimes on the door emitted a series of crisp, tinkling sounds.
The shop is small, with various guitars hanging on the walls and an electronic keyboard in the corner.
The male boss, with shoulder-length hair, was sitting behind the counter eating a bowl of instant noodles when he looked up and saw a large number of cameras rushing in. He was stunned.
Song Ze walked to the wall.
I casually picked up a folk guitar.
He plucked the strings a couple of times.
"Boss, I'd like to borrow your guitar for ten minutes."