HLM – Chapter 11 A Two-Star Restaurant

Just as Charlie was about to speak, the young woman turned to Wang Bo and asked curiously, “Hello, sir. I’m Irina Sharapova. Nice to meet you. May I ask, are you Chinese? It’s rare to see Chinese people in Omarama.”

She had only waved to Charlie in greeting, but when facing Wang Bo, she extended her fair hand with graceful composure.

This difference in treatment made Old Wang secretly delighted. Could it be love at first sight? Thinking back to how that American girl Ginny felt about him on the plane… it didn’t seem impossible.

He straightened up, trying not to look like a complete loser. Shaking Irina’s hand, he smiled and said, “Hello, Irina. Yes, I’m Chinese. My name is Wang Bo, but you can just call me Wang.”

“Then you can call me Eva. That’s what my friends call me. You know, we Ukrainians tend to have names that are hard to remember,” she said playfully, blinking her eyes.

That blink startled Wang Bo—he suddenly realized Eva’s irises were a light violet. He had never seen eyes of that color before.

Charlie coughed beside them and joked, “I’ve known you for so long and never knew you were called Eva. That kinda hurts, you know.”

Eva laughed. “That’s because you can pronounce my name correctly.”

Charlie didn’t continue the topic. Instead, he opened the car door and said, “Look at this scorching noon sun. Where are you two headed? I can give you a ride.”

Eva shrugged with an apologetic expression. “No, thank you, Charlie. I’m taking Trenn to see the city sports event setup. He likes sports, so we won’t bother you.”

Wang Bo gave a polite invitation. “Have you eaten? If not, why don’t we eat together? Charlie and I were just about to grab a meal—my treat, of course.”

“You’re treating? Are you serious?” Charlie asked.

Wang Bo cursed inwardly. This bastard totally forgets his bros when a pretty girl shows up. Why act like I never treat anyone? Just a meal—what’s the big deal? Do I really seem that stingy?

Then Charlie added, “Man, since we’ve known each other, you’ve never treated me to anything!”

“That’s just because we haven’t known each other long enough,” Wang Bo replied, his smile barely hiding the pain.

Charlie blinked and said, “Huh? Old Wang, when did your English get so fluent?”

Wang Bo answered proudly, “You think I’ve been watching TV for the plot? No, I’ve been studying. My English wasn’t bad before, I just haven’t used it in years.”

His learning ability had improved a lot too—probably thanks to the Lord’s Heart.

Eva watched their exchange with an amused smile, but in the end, she shook her head and said she already had plans. Then she took the little boy’s hand and left.

Back in the car, Wang Bo was still looking outside, while Charlie’s expression turned serious again. He said, “Don’t let her looks fool you, Wang. Try to stay away from that woman. Don’t say your brother didn’t warn you—her identity isn’t nearly as sweet as her face.”

Wang Bo replied irritably, “Alright, alright, I get it, bro. She’s your goddess. Even if you didn’t say anything, I wouldn’t try to steal her.”

Charlie let out a cold laugh and said, “Are you kidding me? My goddess? My goddess is Aphrodite, not Nyx in a black cloak.”

In Greek mythology, Aphrodite is the goddess of beauty, while Nyx is the goddess of the night, also often regarded as a goddess of death, always seen dressed in black.

Wang Bo had wanted to ask more about Eva, but seeing that Charlie didn’t seem keen to talk, he refrained. Clearly, Charlie had feelings for the girl and was worried that Wang Bo might try to steal her away.

Old Wang understood. Who told him to suddenly exude such charm and charisma after obtaining the Lord’s Heart?

Thinking this happily, he adjusted the center rearview mirror to face himself and shook his head repeatedly at the handsome face in the reflection: With this much charm, comes great pressure too.

Just then, a hand suddenly reached over—

Charlie straightened the rearview mirror with a look of annoyance. “Come on, I’m driving, alright? Even if you’re not going to help, at least don’t mess things up for me!”

The Toyota Prado turned a couple more corners before stopping at the entrance of a street. Wang Bo asked curiously, “Weren’t we heading to the rice straw fields? Why are we stopping here?”

Charlie was speechless. “Strawfield is the name of a street—it’s the gourmet street of Omarama. You didn’t think it was an actual farm, did you?”

“Well… I thought it was some kind of agritourism spot,” Wang Bo said with an awkward laugh.

Charlie said he’d treat Wang Bo to authentic New Zealand-style Western food, then took the lead into a restaurant that looked quite refined. Wang Bo glanced at the exterior—this restaurant was called Spray’s Kitchen. A white metal sign stood at the entrance, marked with two star-shaped symbols.

New Zealand has two-star restaurants? Wang Bo scratched his head. Probably not too expensive. After all, he had eaten at many three-star places back in Beijing and the prices were acceptable.

From the outside, the restaurant looked plain, but the interior décor was impressive and full of character. The whole place was designed like a giant kitchen. About a dozen tables were scattered around, surrounded by boilers, stoves, kitchen tools, and utensils, creating the feel of one massive kitchen space.

Fewer than half the tables were occupied, but even so, when they entered, the server still asked Charlie for a reservation.

Charlie responded with flair, “Charlie Stallone. Tell your boss Mr. Stallone is here—he’ll know what to do.”

Wang Bo was stunned by his swagger. This guy is fearless! Not afraid of getting punched?

The server smiled warmly and guided them to a table. Soon, a white man in his thirties came out, wearing a pristine chef’s outfit and a tall chef’s hat. He opened his arms and called out excitedly upon seeing Charlie, “Hey, Little Feet Charlie! You finally had time to come see me?”

At that nickname, Charlie’s face turned red and his mustache bristled with anger. “Beef! Show some respect, will you? Call me by my full name!”

The chef grinned and pulled Charlie into a firm hug. “Come on, no need to get angry. You call me by my nickname and I don’t get upset, right? You really should work on that temper.”

“Your real name is Beef!” Charlie retorted. He pushed the chef away and introduced him to Wang Bo, “This is the head chef and owner of the restaurant. His name is Kobe Beef Spray.”

“It’s actually Kobe Spray—same name as the Lakers’ superstar. But yeah, there is some beef connection there. Kobe beef, you know?” the chef said with a grin.

Wang Bo didn’t know much about basketball, though of course he was aware of Kobe Bryant, the world-famous sports icon. But what did that have to do with beef?

Seeing his puzzled expression, the plump chef laughed even more warmly and gave him a quick explanation.

It turned out that Kobe is the English name of a Japanese city, and the most famous culinary product from that city is its beef. Kobe beef is among the most prestigious in the world. It’s a specialty of the Tajima region in Hyogo Prefecture, Japan. It’s often served at national banquets, and one cow even sold for a sky-high price of 7.22 million yen. There was even a time when the Japanese Emperor banned its consumption.

Charlie then introduced Wang Bo to the chef. The chubby chef gave him another bear hug and said, “So you’re the new lord of that territory? Incredible! I’m honored to have the chance to cook for a noble. Alright, take your seats—you’ll be tasting my creations very soon!”

Wang Bo thought to himself, I’m not a noble! I only inherited the land, not a title. And hey, I haven’t even ordered yet. Don’t make anything too expensive—I’m the one paying today, okay…?