The Unexpected Price of Farmhouse Cuisine

Xue Tao had already decided to retreat for now, temporarily avoiding the spotlight.

Su Bai's move of sneaking in with an ultra-luxurious breakfast, combined with the allure of his Mercedes, had completely rendered Xue Tao's "materialistic approach" ineffective.

He would wait until the sightseeing part of the trip to consider whether there was still a chance to flirt.

...Though he had such thoughts in his mind, Xue Tao couldn't shake off a sinking feeling.

This trip might turn him into nothing more than cannon fodder.

Sigh!

How on earth did Su Bai suddenly strike it rich?

It was just too absurd...

Completely overshadowing his own privileged local-boy status!

...

After checking in, Su Bai received a notification in his mind about indulgent spending.

Heh, as expected.

He’d stay with the group at noon and then move to the lakeside villa in the afternoon once it was ready—double the lodging, double the indulgence rewards.

Seemed like the system was being pretty lenient with its indulgence criteria during his vacation.

That’s just how travel worked—if you wanted to enjoy yourself, you couldn’t penny-pinch. You had to splurge without hesitation.

Though he was supposedly traveling with his roommates, Su Bai didn’t take it too seriously. He’d do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. They were all bros anyway—no need for formalities.

He was really looking forward to the local specialty dishes for lunch.

Within the province, culinary differences weren’t huge—heavy on salt, spice, and bold flavors. Jiangcheng cuisine had long been famous, and the rustic farmhouse restaurant Xue Tao had picked was actually pretty solid.

After dropping their luggage in their rooms, the group headed to the restaurant.

To Su Bai’s surprise, the local boy made one last desperate attempt in the group chat.

[Xue Zhitao: Someone ride with me. Let’s balance things out—I’m worried your car might be too crowded.]

[Red Bean Glutinous Rice Ball: Xue Tao, what are you implying? Are you subtly calling us fat?]

[Xue Zhitao: (nose-picking emoji) Not at all! Haha, why would I ever complain about you guys? You’re all in great shape!]

[Xue Zhitao: I just meant my car’s pretty empty—feels like a waste.]

[Yuxie: If it’s a waste, you could always pick up a hitchhiker.]

[Xue Zhitao: ...]

Clearly, Chen Yusheng’s seemingly harmless yet bizarrely logical suggestion had successfully shut Xue Tao down.

Classic Yusheng!

Su Bai couldn’t help but laugh.

The road to the farmhouse restaurant wasn’t the easiest.

At one point, they even had to drive through a dirt path.

Light rain the night before had left the ground slightly muddy.

Xue Tao’s Magotan inched along nervously, nearly sliding into a ditch.

Once they arrived, he immediately checked for any undercarriage scratches.

Su Bai, on the other hand, had no such worries—his SUV’s high clearance made navigating rural unpaved roads a breeze.

Stepping out of the car, they were greeted by a distinctly rustic courtyard setup—plastic canopies, foldable tables, and plastic stools, giving off serious countryside banquet vibes.

Customers and servers bustled about nonstop.

Unlike high-end restaurants, there were no young, pretty waitresses in black stockings here—just sturdy, no-nonsense aunties who radiated warmth.

But when Su Bai glanced at the menu, he noticed the prices were anything but warm.

The sharp-eyed Wan Xinyan quickly voiced her suspicion: "Xue Tao, this place looks like a budget-friendly spot, so why are the dishes so expensive? Did you bring us to some scam joint?"

"No way!" Xue Tao protested, flustered. "This place was recommended by my relatives—totally legit. My family might not be rolling in wealth in Jiangcheng, but we’re at least respectable..."

Su Bai studied the menu and chimed in: "It’s probably the portion sizes and premium ingredients driving up the prices—like free-range chicken or reservoir fish heads. Sourcing those isn’t cheap."

Lately, he’d been splurging heavily on dining, which had sharpened his understanding of upscale restaurant pricing.

His standards had risen.

Despite the humble surroundings, this farmhouse joint was the real deal.

Gotta admit—Xue Tao’s relatives hadn’t steered him wrong this time.

"Ohhh, so that’s how it is! Su Bai, you’re so knowledgeable~"

Wan Xinyan practically had stars in her eyes as she gazed at him adoringly.

Even Jiang Qiuran and Chen Yusheng, who had initially been skeptical, visibly relaxed.

This left Xue Tao silently fuming.

Was he, the local, somehow less trustworthy than Su Bai, the out-of-towner?

Damn these shallow women—just because Su Bai was good-looking, they automatically took his word as gospel.

Pathetic. They’d get scammed one day.

Grumbling internally, Xue Tao stared at the menu, conflicted.

Originally, he’d planned to grandly announce that everyone could order freely—his treat.

But the problem was, the prices here far exceeded his expectations.

His parents had given him a set budget for the Mid-Autumn holiday, and he couldn’t blow it all on the first meal.

Some of the wild game dishes didn’t even have prices listed.

And in restaurants, "market price" was the ultimate scam—a silent assassin for your wallet.

Take the morning’s Hong Kong grouper Su Bai had treated them to—that kind of thing would never have a fixed price on the menu. It depended entirely on what the supplier charged, plus the restaurant’s markup.

If the girls went wild with their orders, Xue Tao’s wallet would be in serious trouble.

An awkward silence settled over the table.

Xue Tao, the local, wasn’t speaking up.

The others didn’t know Jiangcheng cuisine well enough to decide.

Fortunately, Su Bai broke the stalemate.

"Let’s get these signature dishes—my treat. The rest, you can split among yourselves. Sound good?"

His suggestion was perfectly reasonable.

When students traveled together, aligning spending habits was tricky.

Even within the same prestigious university, financial backgrounds varied wildly.

In that sense, the college entrance exam system was relatively fair—top students from impoverished families could sit in the same classrooms as the children of the elite.

But when it came to dining together, disparities became obvious.

Some ordered without a second glance at prices, while others had to calculate every penny for the most cost-effective combo.

Su Bai was genuinely interested in the signature dishes, so he covered those.

The rest could be decided by the group.

The girls quickly added their own picks.

Jiang Qiuran chose a fermented glutinous rice ball stew, then fixed her gaze on Su Bai, hoping for some reaction.

But Su Bai remained completely unfazed.

Of course, he knew what she was hinting at.

Back in middle school, when Jiang Qiuran had her first period and was in terrible pain, Su Bai had gone out to buy her a bowl of fermented rice balls.

The warmth had instantly soothed her.

It was a cherished memory between them, and Jiang Qiuran was clearly trying to trigger nostalgia.

Her pitiful, longing gaze seemed to silently plead—

Su Bai, I’m your childhood friend. I’m just as good as the others, aren’t I?

But Su Bai just wanted to laugh.

Seriously, girl.

You dumped me because I was poor, and now that I’ve made it big, you’re hinting at getting back together? As if that’s how things work.

Ignored. Su Bai straight-up pretended she didn’t exist.

If you want to reconcile, come beg me.

Otherwise, forget it!

It’s not like Su Bai was some lonely loser with no women around him. Chen Yusheng and the Wan sisters were great—why bother groveling for Jiang Qiuran’s attention?