Top-Tier Aging Cabinet at 300,000 Yuan per Unit

Fortunately, the Chinese restaurant at the Ascott didn’t overcomplicate things—they served a simple pork rib and lotus root soup.

"Not overdoing it" is actually a rare quality for high-end restaurants, at least based on Su Bai’s recent experiences.

With money and time to spare, Su Bai often dined out by simply opening an app, picking the most expensive option nearby, and giving it a try.

To his shock, he discovered that many pricey restaurants prioritized ambiance or bizarrely creative dishes over taste. If they even bothered to use premium ingredients, that was already considerate. More often than not, they couldn’t compete with mid-range "slightly expensive" restaurants in terms of flavor.

It was downright absurd.

Maybe many wealthy people genuinely didn’t care whether the food tasted good—especially for business banquets, where presentation mattered more than anything.

But Su Bai cared. He was a man who followed his desires.

Good food had to be delicious, period.

Just as Su Bai assumed the pork rib and lotus root soup was just that—a simple soup—the restaurant manager arrived at his table with the head chef in tow.

Noticing the chef wheeling over a cart equipped with an induction stove, a heat-resistant glass pot, and a set of cooking utensils, Su Bai guessed, "Bridge-style cooking?"

"Spot on, Mr. Su! We’ve prepared garoupa, fresh squid, and sliced conch for you. Would you like them served with a dipping sauce or as a noodle topping?"

"Dipping sauce."

"Right away, sir."

At the manager’s signal, the chef began preparing the dish.

If you had a pot of exquisite broth, the best way to enjoy it was by cooking seafood in it—just a quick simmer until perfectly tender, then served immediately.

That was the advantage of bridge-style cooking at the table: it maximized the potential of the ingredients.

The downside? It was labor-intensive. Every table required dedicated staff and equipment, which was why this method was usually reserved for higher-end dining—a classic way to impress during business banquets.

But the manager wasn’t doing this for show. Su Bai was already a regular here, and this was purely an impromptu gesture to cater to his tastes.

At the Jiangcheng Ascott, Su Bai was the only guest who’d go all out on meat-heavy dishes even for breakfast.

He’d once even ordered braised pork belly in the morning…

Later, after a chat with the manager, Su Bai made it clear: if the kitchen got their hands on premium ingredients for breakfast, they should just serve them to him—no questions asked.

The things the head chef here considered "premium" weren’t cheap, but Su Bai, as a resident of the most luxurious suite, couldn’t care less about the cost.

[Jiangcheng University Anime Club’s reputation has increased! Reward: Host gains +1 lottery draw.]

As he ate, a system notification popped up in Su Bai’s mind.

Not bad.

He often received random rewards like this, and it always felt pretty great.

Compared to Shenxi Tech, which was still in its low-profile development phase, the anime club was far more attention-grabbing.

And that made sense. Tech companies only made headlines when they had breakthroughs. Most of the time, people cared more about food, entertainment, and scandalous gossip…

After a brief moment of thought, Su Bai pulled out his phone and messaged Liu Chenyang.

Miraculously, she wasn’t sleeping in today—she’d woken up early and gone for a riverside jog with her dad.

[Yangyang: Too bad you weren’t there. Dad said he wants to race you again…]

[Crispy White Goose: [White Goose laughing his ass off]]

[Crispy White Goose: Race where? He never even sees my dust.]

[Yangyang: Oh, come on. He just thinks you’re fun. Not many young people bother humoring him.]

[Crispy White Goose: Honestly, I don’t either. I only humor him because of you.]

[Yangyang: Hehe~]

[Crispy White Goose: I’m thinking of buying an RV. Any leads?]

[Yangyang: I know a few dealers. Let me check my contacts and send you their info later~]

[Crispy White Goose: No rush. Just a random idea.]

When it came to boosting the anime club’s reputation further, Su Bai felt that regular cosplay and itasha (decorated cars) weren’t cutting it anymore. They needed something more extravagant.

Then it hit him—he’d recently watched some RV travel vlogs.

Why not buy an RV and deck it out in anime themes?

He’d let the anime club members handle the details—Su Bai couldn’t be bothered with the nitty-gritty. Once it was done, they could drive it to a convention, rake in attention, and earn more system rewards.

Perfect plan!

He also decided to buy another RV for personal use.

Combined, the expenses would be substantial—another hefty cashback opportunity.

With his savings now exceeding 300 million, Su Bai figured it was time to start house-hunting for a premium property.

A top-tier villa in Jiangcheng would likely cost anywhere from tens of millions to a small fortune.

Add in renovations, furnishings, and landscaping, and the cashback from a single purchase could easily double his current savings.

Of course, luxury home renovations took time.

Just finalizing the design plans alone would be a tedious process.

Su Bai had no intention of micromanaging. He’d delegate everything to his senior—being a hands-off boss was the life.

Ah, the indulgent life—all enjoyment, zero responsibility.

After a satisfying meal, Su Bai returned to his duplex villa just as his custom dry-aging fridge arrived.

If he wasn’t mistaken, everyone currently staying at the duplex—except Chen Yusheng—enjoyed cooking.

Well, Chen Yusheng did watch Su Bai cook sometimes, so technically, they were all culinary enthusiasts.

That meant niche but useful kitchen gadgets were a must.

The only downside? They were expensive. Take the DryAger DX1000, for example—a commercial-grade dry-aging fridge priced at 300,000 RMB.

More expensive than some people’s entire kitchen renovations.

Dry-aging, for the uninitiated, was essentially controlled slow fermentation for meat, enhancing its texture and flavor.

Given Su Bai’s carnivorous tendencies, this was a worthwhile investment.

Along with the delivery crew, a brand representative arrived—probably because the product’s exorbitant price tag demanded justification.

A bespectacled woman, likely highly educated, nervously recited technical details from the manual.

"Don’t worry about the specifics. I’ve already checked the specs. I’ll reach out if I have questions."

"Oh… thank you for understanding. Honestly, this is our first sale of this model, so we’re a bit nervous."

She smiled sheepishly.

Dry-aging cabinets were still a niche product in China. Compared to microwaves or ovens, awareness was low—even the brand’s regional executives doubted this flagship model would sell.

Realistically, the only buyers would be either ultra-high-end restaurants or wealthy hobbyists.

The former would probably cut costs with a domestic alternative, saving hundreds of thousands.

The latter? Well, there were plenty of rich people, but few who’d bother with Western-style meat aging at home.

Su Bai, however, was different. With fewer classes at school today, he couldn't wait to try some fancy fermentation techniques.