To be honest, the food was quite good.
After all, the host's tastes had already been recorded in advance.
But right after the meal, Luo Yao looked at Lin Ran with puppy-dog eyes.
Seeing his wife like this, Lin Ran finally lost his temper and couldn’t hold back anymore.
"Little Tong."
"Young Master Lin."
"Smash this table and replace it immediately."
Jiang Feihua stared at Lin Ran in disbelief, utterly confused by his sudden outburst.
From watching the livestreams, she hadn’t noticed anything unusual about Lin Ran.
Luo Yao gave Lin Ran a satisfied glance, while Little Tong immediately got to work with her team, smashing the table. Lin Ran took Luo Yao’s hand and led her out of the dining room, saying as they left,"Next time we eat here, I expect to see a table that meets my standards. Otherwise, you can consider yourself fired."
Though Luo Yao appeared to be the host, the true master here was Lin Ran—after all, the place had been a gift from Luo Yao to him.
Jiang Feihua felt cold sweat trickling down her back. She never expected the hosts to be so difficult to please.
But what exactly constituted a "satisfactory" table?
Just then, Uncle Fu approached and kindly reminded her,
"Young Master Lin and the young miss don’t need such a formal dining table. A smaller one would do—something where they can easily feed each other."
Jiang Feihua: "A table that small?"
Uncle Fu then pointed at the chairs. "And these chairs—bolted to the floor? Who the hell designed this?"
Jiang Feihua blinked at the chairs. "These... these are high-end marble chairs. They’re too heavy to move."
At that moment, Little Tong happened to smash one of them.
Jiang Feihua winced at the sight—those chairs were worth a fortune.
"So the table was too big, and the chairs were too heavy—that’s the problem?"
"Not exactly."
"Then what is it?"
Uncle Fu gave her a sympathetic look.
"Maybe it’s you. Remember, never disturb the young miss and Young Master Lin during meals—unless you want to become part of the menu."
The realization hit Jiang Feihua like a bolt of lightning, and she immediately bowed to Uncle Fu.
"Thank you for the advice, Steward Zhang. I understand now."
Jiang Feihua felt the need to prove her professionalism, especially since she believed herself far more competent than this old man.
"No need to thank me. You still have a lot of room for improvement."
Just as Lin Ran was about to leave, he turned and caught Uncle Fu and Jiang Feihua exchanging glances. He quickly snapped a photo with his phone.
This could come in handy later.
Little did he know, those photos would prove useful that very night.
From this moment on, Lin Ran had found Uncle Fu’s weakness—the key to keeping the old man in check.
Meanwhile, Jiang Feihua, after thanking Uncle Fu, maintained a five-meter distance behind Luo Yao and Lin Ran, ready to attend to their needs at any moment.
Luo Yao clung to Lin Ran’s arm. "A-Ran, were you upset because you couldn’t feed me yourself?"
"Mm. And that damn chair kept me from sitting close to you."
Luo Yao practically draped herself over Lin Ran, refusing to let go. She leaned in and playfully nipped at his ear.
"A-Ran... only you can make me feel this happy."
Her warm breath sent Lin Ran spiraling into bliss. Even as a long-time couple, their intimacy remained as sweet as ever.
The staff in Shanghai had never interacted with the hosts before. Though they’d "met" Luo Yao and Lin Ran through the employee handbook, $2hose cold, written descriptions couldn’t capture their daily dynamic.
Thankfully, they’d seen the couple’s livestreams and were prepared for the inevitable dog food.
But they hadn’t expected to be force-fed so abruptly.
The young miss and Young Master Lin were just too sweet.
Jiang Feihua’s constant shadowing from five meters away irritated Lin Ran.
"If you don’t have anything urgent, you don’t need to follow us. We’ll call if we need you."
Jiang Feihua: "Young Master Lin, as the estate manager, it’s my duty—"
"Get lost." Luo Yao’s icy tone was a stark contrast to the coquettish girl who’d just been clinging to Lin Ran.
Jiang Feihua wasn’t part of Luo Corporation—she’d been hired by Liu Meng to manage the estate.
Her interactions with Luo Yao had been minimal; in fact, she’d never even met her in person before today.
Now, her professionalism was being dismissed, and she couldn’t help but resent it.
Still, she forced a smile and retreated.
"Yao Yao, you’re amazing."
"At what?"
"At everything..."
Lin Ran’s praise was genuine, not mere flattery.
"My greatest achievement is making A-Ran mine—and mine alone."
Lin Ran: "Or you could say I let you control me because I want to be your plaything."
Luo Yao flashed a smile that was both dreamy and slightly twisted. "Then let’s rest. I can’t wait any longer."
But when they reached the bedroom, bad news arrived.
Aunt Flo—the worst kind of visitor.
"A-Ran, you’re not mad at me, are you? Should I just take some medicine?"
Lin Ran immediately covered her mouth.
"I won’t let you hurt yourself. Now, go to sleep. Once we’ve settled things in Shanghai, I’ll let you go wild."
His promise lit a fire in Luo Yao.
Clearly, they needed to wrap things up in Shanghai as soon as possible.
This time, the three major families would bleed—and even Samsung would suffer a crippling blow, sliding into decline...
A waterbed was still a bed, and Lin Ran found the strange sensation oddly comfortable.
Even during rest, the bodyguards maintained a 24/7 patrol rotation nearby.
Late at night, Jiang Feihua sought out Uncle Fu in his quarters.
"Steward Zhang, would you honor me with a meal?"
She figured she might as well learn from the old man—after all, he’d served Luo Yao and Young Master Lin for years and knew their habits inside out.
More importantly, Jiang Feihua feared being replaced. She needed to stay at the estate—no, she needed to stay by Luo Yao’s side.
Uncle Fu raised an eyebrow. "I already have a woman I like."
Jiang Feihua: "......"
Uncle Fu: "But I’ll still give you this chance."
Jiang Feihua had hoped for some wisdom, but now she just thought the old man was full of himself.
"How... flattering," she said dryly.
By now, Jiang Feihua was looking down on Uncle Fu.
Honestly, what kind of butler wore a Tang suit? He looked less like a steward and more like a folk artist about to perform.
Despite his experience, his casual attitude toward the hosts made him utterly unprofessional.
If given the chance, she could easily win over Young Master Lin and the young miss—maybe even replace Uncle Fu as the head of the Kyoto estate.
After all, when it came to professionalism, she was the real expert.