After a heavy downpour, the film crew dove into an intense shooting schedule, their entire day packed from start to finish.
Sumr was nearly over, but the weather was still sweltering. Brian Lynch had his assistant buy milk tea for everyone, paying for it himself and handing it out to the crew and other actors.
Joanna Kennedy got a cup of grape milk green tea and said with a smile, "Thanks, Brian."
Brian Lynch just gave her a wink, as if to say it was nothing.
After downing the icy grape milk green tea, Joanna Kennedy wasn’t quite satisfied, so she grabbed a bottle of mineral water fresh from the fridge.
The consequence of indulging in so many cold drinks was that she’d barely taken two bites of lunch when a sharp, needle-like pain began to twist in her stomach, causing her imnse discomfort.
"Joanna, what’s wrong? Are you not feeling well?" Shirley Shepherd, ever observant, noticed sothing was amiss and asked with concern.
Joanna Kennedy figured the stomach ache would pass soon and didn’t want to make a fuss. "I’m fine," she said. "I probably just had too many cold drinks this morning."
She did her best to sound casual, but her pale lips and the cold sweat on her forehead betrayed that her condition was anything but fine.
"Oh, stop trying to act tough. I’m going to get the on-set doctor."
Joanna Kennedy bit her lip, but before she could say anything, Shirley Shepherd had already rushed off to explain the situation to the director.
The mont Julie ca out of the restroom, she saw several crew mbers gathered around Joanna Kennedy.
Her expression changed instantly, and she hurried over. "Jojo! What happened?!"
Joanna Kennedy just shook her head.
The on-set doctor asked a few simple questions and reached a conclusion. "It’s intestinal spasms from drinking too many cold beverages. It’s nothing serious, you’ll be fine after a little rest. You have a sensitive digestive system, so you can’t drink so much ice-cold water at once in the future."
"Thank you, doctor..."
Joanna Kennedy was a little embarrassed. Causing such a stir just because she couldn’t resist a cold drink was mortifying.
Hearing it was nothing serious, the others dispersed. The director told Joanna Kennedy to get so more rest and kindly gave her the rest of the day off.
Still worried, Julie followed the doctor and asked a few more questions. Only after confirming it was nothing serious did she finally breathe a sigh of relief.
But then she rembered what the doctor had said—that Joanna Kennedy had poor digestion caused by irregular eating habits.
’This could be a minor issue, or it could beco a major one,’ Julie thought. After a mont of consideration, she took out her phone, composed a few text ssages, and sent them off.
Joanna Kennedy, still unaware that there was a "traitor" in her midst, returned to her hotel. Cradling a cup of hot water, she sat in her room and studied the script.
Julie brought her dinner. Joanna Kennedy looked at the stacked food containers in her hand, sowhat surprised. "Did you buy this from a restaurant?"
Julie’s eyes darted away for a second. "Yeah, it’s from a new restaurant that just opened nearby..."
’What kind of restaurant uses such exquisite containers?’
Joanna Kennedy found it strange.
She opened the containers skeptically. A fragrant aroma imdiately wafted up. The top layer held stir-fried bok choy and chicken with yam and chestnuts. Below that was another layer with corn and pork rib soup and a savory stead egg custard.
It was a feast for the senses, whetting her appetite instantly.
Joanna Kennedy said, "Let’s eat together."
The portions weren’t huge, but it was still a bit much for one person.
Unexpectedly, Julie’s eyes widened in alarm at the invitation, and she shook her head like a rattle drum. "No, no, I’ve already eaten! I’ve eaten!"
’Psychological studies show that when people repeat themselves, it ans they’re lying.’
Joanna Kennedy narrowed her eyes. "You’ve really eaten?"
"I’ve eaten, I’ve eaten."
Joanna Kennedy: "..."
Since Julie didn’t want to eat with her, Joanna Kennedy didn’t press the issue. "Alright then, I’ll eat by myself."
Julie breathed a sigh of relief. Once she was out of the room, she patted her chest in fright.
’Are you kidding ? I wouldn’t dare eat that, even if I had a death wish! That ca from the big boss. She knew what was more important: her job or satisfying her cravings.’
Joanna Kennedy finished every last bite of the three dishes and one soup, letting out a satisfied burp at the end.
It was mainly because the food was just so delicious. She’d never had anything from a restaurant that so perfectly suited her tastes.
’I have to ask Julie where she bought this,’ Joanna Kennedy thought. ’Then I can go eat there myself in the future.’
Julie hemd and hawed for a long ti, unable to get a single word out, before hastily saying, "I’ll go ask if I’m allowed to say," and hanging up.
Joanna Kennedy stared at her phone, speechless.
’All I want is the na of the restaurant. Who does she need to ask for permission?’
’The owner? The head chef?’
A few monts later, a ssage ca from Julie. She still didn’t give the restaurant’s na, only vaguely stating that it was in a very remote location.
If Joanna Kennedy wanted to eat there again, Julie could go buy it for her, just like she did today.
For the next few days, Julie did indeed bring a food container every evening. The dishes inside were different each ti: yam congee, shredded chicken congee, mutton stewed with ejiao, okra stuffed with minced at...
Even the simple savory stead egg custard tasted better than any she’d had at other restaurants.
「Southland Group.」
Sean Grant was lounging in the CEO’s office, idly spinning a globe, unable to keep his hands to himself.
Jack Warren knocked twice before entering. His steps faltered for a second when he saw Sean, but he quickly composed himself and walked in as if nothing were out of the ordinary.
"Mr. Lockwood, here is last quarter’s report."
Behind the black desk, Simon Lockwood was replying to a work email. He didn’t even look up, simply reaching out a hand to take the report.
Jack Warren’s sharp eyes caught sight of a small red mark on the back of his hand, like a fresh burn.
He’d noticed similar marks on the back of Simon Lockwood’s hand several tis over the past few days. Sotis they looked like scalds, other tis like oil splatters...
When the file didn’t imdiately land in his hand, Simon Lockwood glanced up to see Jack Warren spacing out. He frowned. "What is it?"
Jack Warren snapped out of it and quickly handed him the file. "It’s nothing."
Simon Lockwood gave it a quick look-over and saw no issues.
He glanced at the ti. It was already past eight.
Sean Grant was long past tired of waiting. "You two workaholics, are we getting dinner or not? I’m starving to death over here. If I die, your precious Southland will have to take full responsibility."
"If you’re so hungry, go eat by yourself. No one’s making you wait," Jack Warren retorted coolly.
"That won’t work." Sean Grant’s large, round eyes darted around as he announced smugly, "Simon promised to treat to dinner. I’m going to The White Hall to order the most expensive thing on the nu!"
Jack Warren turned to look at the silent Simon Lockwood, certain that Sean Grant was just spouting nonsense again.
But then he saw Simon Lockwood rise, drape his suit jacket over his arm without a word of protest, and walk to the door. He paused, then said impassively, "Well? Are you coming?"
"Yeah, aren’t you coming?" Sean Grant echoed, basking in borrowed glory.
Jack Warren snapped back to reality and followed them.
Sean Grant didn’t shut up the entire way. He sat in the passenger seat, chattering until Jack Warren, who was driving, felt his right ear ache. "Can you please shut up?!"
"Nope, and I’m going to keep talking!" Sean Grant was incredibly full of himself now, his voice growing louder. He was a completely different person from the man who, just a short while ago, would wish the ground would swallow him whole whenever he saw Simon Lockwood.
What Jack Warren found even more unbelievable was Simon Lockwood’s indulgence. Normally, a single cold glare from Simon would have been enough to make Sean Grant obediently shut his mouth.
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