In Grant's eyes, everyone had value. Qin Fen's value was unquestionably high, but as long as someone had value, they could be persuaded. That was a businessman's outlook, nakedly following the laws of money.
Unfortunately, he did not understand Big Chef. If Big Chef truly did not want to go, even if someone buried him under money, he would not give a damn. That was assuming they could bury to death a legitimate god of the Heavenly Court who possessed divine power, a divine office, and a godhead in the Mortal Realm—and that god happened to be Dongwang Gong, a formidable existence among the sovereigns.
Unfortunately, Qin Fen's proper and serious manner looked like putting on airs and raising his price in the other party's eyes.
Grant took a sip of the Clear Spring Dew Big Chef had prepared, his eyes revealing an intoxicated expression. What fine wine. One sip felt like standing by the sea with the breeze blowing over him, leaving his whole body comfortable and refreshed. Paired with this table full of dishes, it was perfect.
He did not raise the offer further, because he needed to give the other party time to consider. Five million euros to cater the banquet was no small sum; it was an exceptionally high price. Even if ingredients were expensive, there was a limit. Chefs would basically make a fortune, selling nothing but their skill.
"This wine is good. When Master Qin goes, use this kind of wine!" Grant spoke casually, as if money meant nothing to him. How many Renminbi was five million euros? Even an idiot knew. As long as Qin Fen accepted, he could earn tens of millions. If he was ruthless and did not care too much about the ingredients, he would make an absolute killing.
Unfortunately,