Shen Bing replied casually, "Nothing much. I'm inviting everyone over for a meal to enjoy some good food."
Wang Sheng felt as though he was going mad. He knew his boss was a good cook—well, "good" hardly covered it. Compared with Shen Bing, those so-called Michelin chefs were nothing.
But being able to cook was one thing. Being willing to cook for others was another.
Given Shen Bing's status, cooking a meal for his parents, relatives, or even friends was perfectly understandable. But was his Weibo post addressed to any of those three groups?
Clearly not. If Shen Bing only wanted to invite those people, a phone call would have done the job.
So Shen Bing must have meant to invite a much broader group of people to dinner.
"Boss, stop keeping me in suspense. Just tell me what's going on," Wang Sheng asked helplessly.
Shen Bing said, "It's nothing major. I've invited a few renowned chefs, and I'm planning to entertain guests in Nebula Hall at Phantom Immortal Tower the day after tomorrow so they can sample their cooking."
Naturally, Wang Sheng didn't believe that was Shen Bing's real objective. How bored would someone have to be to come up with an idea like that?
"And then?" Wang Sheng asked pointedly.
Shen Bing said, "And then? Then, of course, I'll sell those cooks for a good price."
Wang Sheng understood, yet felt even more confused. He understood that his boss's objective was indeed more complicated than it seemed. What confused him was whether these "renowned chefs" could actually be sold.
Shen Bing continued, "Don't get any strange ideas. I'm not planning to traffic people. Have someone prepare the venue first, with all the cookware, tableware, and everything else we'll need. When the time comes, all you have to do