```
"Tell Reben that if he wants my support on the new military spending bill, then he'll need to make concessions on the energy plan. I'm currently in Illiguo, having spoken with people from the Reconstruction Committee. I have my opinions on some of the energy legislation and have expressed them. The military agrees with my suggestions…"
The car entered the Green Zone, and Nancy kept her phone to her ear the whole way, as it was constantly ringing.
"This is my principle, and it's non-negotiable. Oh, for God's sake, you should also be aware of the situation in Illiguo by now. I am opposed to the war, and since you decided to wage it, the Elephant Party can't have the final say in the reconstruction efforts. We must play our supervisory role…"
When the car stopped at the hotel entrance, Nancy was still in the vehicle, insisting on finishing her last call.
She then handed the phone back to her assistant beside her.
The assistant reminded her, "Madam, we've arrived at the hotel. It's time to get out of the car."
Nancy looked out the car window and saw some military people and members of the Illigio Temporary Management Committee standing at the entrance, apparently there to welcome her.
She hurriedly pulled down the car's mirror to check herself, straightening her hair and makeup, and then asked her assistant, "Julie, do I look alright?"
Assistant Julie promptly replied, "Oh, madam, you look very spirited."
This was not just flattery.
For someone in her sixties, Nancy was indeed spirited among her peers. Having been in Illiguo for nearly two days, this elderly lady had visited two military camps and met with several of the most important committees in Illiguo, enduring meetings that were lengthy and tedious. Yet, this party whip seemed to be full of energy and enjoyed herself.
With a positive response, Nancy was very happy. Julie spoke again just before stepping out to open the door, "Madam, you have an appointment with Angel later."
Nancy frowned slightly as she remembered, "Oh, the one with the mercenaries?"
The thought of this meeting displeased her.
She didn't like the requests from Angel, especially since those people were said to be Chinese and Russians.
This was what she disliked the most.
But then, what did it matter?
In her political career, she had cooperated with even the most disgusting people.
As a politician, being able to sit next to the toilet, watching feces and still smiling while eating, was a basic quality.
Of course, the main reason she was willing to condescend to meet these mercenaries was to give Angel a favor.
Though she didn't like the Chinese and Russians, she was very fond of Angel.
The girl had been attached to her since childhood and looked up to her as an idol. Although the results of this incident weren't particularly perfect, the outcome was still satisfactory, and she was pleased with that.
One doesn't look at the mantis while praying to the Buddha.
For the sake of her niece's face, she would meet with them.
"Alright, you arrange it. The time can't be long, how much did we say before?"
"Madam, we agreed on fifteen minutes before."
Nancy looked at her watch; it was already five ten in the afternoon.
"Set it up, we'll meet them over dinner. Oh, and have Wood come along too."
"Yes, madam."
After Julie spoke, she stepped out of the car.
Seeing the assistant get out, the bodyguard immediately came forward to open the door for Nancy.
After some pleasantries at the hotel entrance, Nancy excused herself from the welcome officials, citing a private meeting as a reason to decline the welcome party.
She then made her way through the lobby, surrounded by people, toward the elevator, going up to the ninth floor of the hotel.
In her room, she changed clothes and freshened up before Julie knocked on the door again.
"Madam, dinner is ready."
"Alright... come in, Julie."
She turned from the vanity, saw Julie entering from the door, and asked, "Is Angel here yet?"
"She's already waiting in the dining room," Julie said.
"Good," Nancy said, "Ask her to wait, I'll be there in a moment."
A few minutes later.
"Aunt Nancy."
"My dear Angel!"
Angel and her party finally welcomed Nancy.
The two shared an enthusiastic embrace.
"Auntie, these are the men I mentioned to you, if it weren't for them, I probably wouldn't have had the chance to see you again."
Angel began introducing Song Heping and the cook.
"This is Song, and this is Yevgeny..."
Nancy didn't shake hands with them; she ignored the cook's outstretched hand and turned to Julie instead, "Let them start."
"Yes, madam." While responding, Julie signaled everyone to take their seats.
Song Heping could tell from Nancy's cold attitude.
```
This lady sure doesn't like to associate with cooks.
But what does that matter?
He and the cook were here solely for business.
To make money!
Nothing to be ashamed of.
However, once seated, faced with an array of knives, forks, and dishes, Song Heping found himself in a bit of trouble.
It wasn't that he had never eaten Western food, but he had never seen so many knives, forks, bowls, and plates.
It felt less like dining and more like visiting an exhibition.
"These knives and forks, you take them from the inside out, the serrated ones are for cutting meat, and the small knife is for cutting bread with butter..."
Angel could clearly see Song Heping's embarrassment and kindly explained the use of those utensils to him.
Song Heping couldn't help but glance at the cook.
The cook was certainly dressed to the nines tonight.
He was wearing a suit.
Indeed.
Can you believe a mercenary leader who came to Illigio to make money would pack a suit in his combat backpack?
The appetizer was served quickly.
It was a caramelized foie gras with a thin layer of apple juice on top.
Mr. Wood, who was accompanying them, introduced, "The head chef of the hotel is from France, madam, you might want to try the taste of this dish, it's very authentic."
Nancy took a look at the foie gras on the plate.
It was a roasted foie gras coated in caramel syrup, then topped with a layer of apple sauce made from crushed apples.
As an appetizer, it was meant to be refreshing.
The sweetness of the syrup, the rich flavor of the foie gras mixed with the sweet and sour apple sauce – the former activated the taste buds, the latter two stimulated the appetite, and combined, they created an exquisite taste experience.
Song Heping felt this delicacy was just a bite's worth.
Just one bite.
Because there were only two slices, about fifty grams in total.
Having one slice at a time might not even fill the gaps between teeth.
Two slices in one bite, however, seemed too crude.
This put him in a difficult position.
"The taste is so-so," the cook commented after tasting it, suddenly giving his opinion: "If I were to make the appetizer, I'd prepare a plate of prosciutto with melon."
Song Heping looked at the cook in surprise.
The guy really was fussy.
Just eat the meal; it's only a formality for networking. Why bother with so many comments?
Wood had arranged the dinner, and the cook's words made him feel offended.
The oil company's boss glanced at the cook sitting across the table, his eyes brimming with disdainful arrogance, then said with a sneer, "You make it? You can cook?"
The cook smiled: "Not only can I, but I also cook as well as any top chef."
Wood scoffed inwardly.
A mere mercenary, talking about gourmet food in front of him?
Did this brute know anything about the world?
"Waiter!"
Calling over a server and inquiring, he said, "The hotel kitchen has the ingredients you need. Since Mr. Yevgeny claims he can make prosciutto with melon, I am very interested in trying it. May I have the honor of tasting your cooking?"
Wood's words were polite, but they sounded utterly contemptuous, clearly believing the cook was bluffing and wanted to embarrass him on the spot.
Moreover, Wood was well aware that Nancy did not like these two men; the only reason she agreed to dine with them was to give face to Angel.
"Of course." The cook surprisingly stood up, took off his coat to reveal the white shirt underneath, and said confidently, "If madam Nancy wishes, I can personally cook this dish for you."
All eyes then turned to Nancy's face.
Although Song Heping knew Yevgeny could cook and was nicknamed 'the Cook,' could a guy who had served 9 years in prison truly claim to know high-end cuisine?
Wasn't that utterly fantastical?
If it weren't for the public setting, he would definitely advise the Cook not to create unnecessary complications.
After all, Nancy didn't like him or the Cook, so why not just discuss business and leave? What's the point of babbling with her?
"Okay," Nancy nodded slightly, "Then I'll trouble Mr. Yevgeny to do so."