C29 The Most Perfect Lie!(1)

After navigating a series of bank procedures, Bai Wenling's account was successfully credited with five hundred million yuan just before noon.

With this substantial sum, Bai Wenling swiftly rescued the teetering Butterfly Loving Flower Company from the brink of collapse.

Notably, the theft at Butterfly Loving Flower Company appeared to have been covertly exacerbated by someone, resulting in the news spreading like wildfire across all of Quanzhou's companies within a mere three hours.

When Su Hao accompanied Bai Wenling to the bank, the staff promptly declared their refusal to extend a loan to Butterfly Loving Flower Company. Clearly, the puppeteer behind the scenes had already conspired with the bank, resolute in their aim to take down the company.

Bai Wenling shuddered at the thought of what might have become of Butterfly Loving Flower Company without Su Hao's five hundred million yuan infusion.

The recent embezzlement served as a wake-up call for Bai Wenling. Following Su Hao's advice, she adopted a downsizing strategy. Employees who resigned during the financial crisis were paid their standard wages and would no longer be considered for future employment.

In contrast, employees who stayed on were rewarded with a salary that doubled each month, a benefit that would continue until their retirement. This move filled those who had quit with regret and those who stayed with unexpected delight, bolstering their loyalty to the company.

Furthermore, Bai Wenling personally oversaw any financial transactions or reserve matters, treating any unverified involvement as potential espionage from rival firms.

With the company back on track and running smoothly, Su Hao breathed a sigh of relief.

Bai Wenling entrusted Gu Peiling with the remaining tasks, and by noon, she and Su Hao retreated to their private villa.

The morning's hectic pace had left them both famished. Unfortunately, their housekeeper had taken a few days off, so there was no one to prepare lunch.

Rummaging through the fridge, Su Hao discovered it was nearly bare, save for some flour.

"Su Hao, should I order some takeout?" Bai Wenling suggested with an embarrassed smile, reaching for the phone.

"Takeout often isn't clean, and it's not healthy to eat," Su Hao advised, dissuading Bai Wenling from making the call.

"Have you gotten your period recently?" Su Hao inquired, having counted the days.

Bai Wenling's cheeks flushed with a hint of surprise in her eyes. She bit her lip and gave a small nod.

She remembered Su Hao as someone who was quite concerned with appearances, someone who would never fuss over a woman's menstrual cycle, much less keep track of it.

Yet, it seemed Su Hao had grown more mature in his approach to life.

"You should avoid cold and spicy foods during this time. So..." Su Hao pondered for a moment, his eyes brightening, "Wenling, how about I whip up a bowl of knife-cut noodles for you?"

In his past life, after Bai Wenling's tragic suicide, he had lost all means of income and often ended up sleeping on the streets.

It was during those tough times that he encountered an elderly vendor who made knife-cut noodles.

The noodles were exceptional – not only were they crafted with precision, but they were also delicious and highly nutritious.

He later learned that the old man was a former Ancient Martial Artist skilled with blades, who had left behind the conflicts of the martial world to enjoy a simpler life with his noodle stall, working from dawn till dusk.

Back then, destitute and down on his luck, Su Hao had spent a year learning the art of knife-cut noodles from the old man.

"You can make knife-cut noodles?" Bai Wenling asked, clearly astonished.

Knife-cut noodles are a northern delicacy, renowned for their unique flavor and silky texture, often hailed as the king of noodles.

But the art of making them is complex, relying solely on the skill of the blade, making it a challenge to create truly delicious knife-cut noodles.

"I won't lie to you, my knife-cut noodles can hold their own against those prepared by five-star chefs in fancy hotels," Su Hao said, locking eyes with Bai Wenling, his smile brimming with confidence.

"Would you like to taste my culinary skills? I promise you'll be pleased!"

Bai Wenling twirled a strand of her hair, her eyes sparkling with intrigue, "Sure, I'll lend you a hand..."

Truth be told, she was quite curious to see what Su Hao's knife-cut noodles would be like.

Having agreed on the meal, they promptly made their way into the kitchen to begin.

Su Hao deftly picked up half a jin of flour and sprinkled it into the basin, while Bai Wenling, standing beside him, gracefully scooped up half a ladle of water and poured it in slowly.

As the water hit the basin, Su Hao's palms faced each other, his fingertips delicately touching the outer rim where the flour met the basin's edge. With practiced movements, he scooped the flour from the outside in, lifting it from the bottom in a smooth, expert motion.

He then guided the flour into the water-filled depression in the center, skillfully kneading the mixture to form a snowflake pattern with grape-like clusters. To an onlooker, it was an artistic masterpiece.

"So beautiful..." Bai Wenling murmured, her eyes wide with wonder.

With a modest smile, Su Hao swiftly poked a few more holes in the remaining dry flour and stirred it into the water, creating more grape-clustered snowflakes.

He then combined these shapes with a gentle yet firm rhythm, his movements restrained and deliberate. Before long, the flour transformed into a spinning mass, revealing intricate shapes of flora as it twirled, reminiscent of a magical performance.

The dough eventually became a smooth, shiny ball, so reflective that one could see their own reflection upon its surface.

Bai Wenling was mesmerized. Never in her life had she seen dough crafted with such finesse.

Su Hao's technique was less like kneading and more like an elegant dance with nature, exuding a charm that was a feast for the eyes.

Following this display, Su Hao lifted the pristine dough from the basin and placed it on a clean chopping board. He then lit the stove, added a dash of oil, and with a flourish, tossed in finely chopped ginger, onion, and garlic.

Bai Wenling gasped in surprise. Most master chefs wouldn't dare to blend these seasonings in such a manner, as it could muddle the flavors and dull the taste.

But Su Hao's approach was different. As the trio hit the hot oil, it was as though a unique force contained them, preventing them from diffusing. Instead, they melded into a cohesive blend, each flavor distinct yet harmonious.

Half a minute later, Su Hao expertly sprinkled just the right amount of iodized salt into the mix. A ladle of water cascaded over the ingredients, and the seasoning soup was crafted to perfection, its aroma permeating the air. The nearby pets, invigorated by the scent, issued eager cries of longing.

Having completed this task, Su Hao grasped the dough in his left hand and the knife in his right, making three diagonal cuts followed by three reverse cuts. As he applied pressure, the knife danced in harmony with the dough, his hand and eye coordination seamless. Each slice with the flat knife produced even strips, while the angled knife created perfect triangles.

"Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh!" The rhythmic sound of the knife carving through the dough echoed like a musician striking piano keys. With each precise cut, Su Hao followed the previous one, ensuring every noodle was six inches long, achieving impeccable uniformity.