56: Chapter 56 The entire court of officials eats hot pot

A muffled sound of chair legs scraping against the carpet came from the center of the main table.

Zair pressed his hands against the edge of the table and stood up straight.

The murmur of conversation throughout the venue vanished instantly. The movements of hundreds of people froze in unison, and the sound of silver forks hitting porcelain plates ceased completely.

The camera was held steadily on the main table.

Zair raised his hand to adjust the angle of the microphone.

It was an extremely authentic London-accented English. There was not a hint of an Arabic accent.

"Good evening, everyone."

He scanned both sides of the long table.

"I would like to thank the representatives of over fifty countries present here for honoring Abu Dhabi with your presence to share this meal on such an unsettled night."

"This proves one thing—the hospitality of Ala Country is more convincing than the missiles of certain countries."

A low chuckle rippled through the audience.

Zair picked up the water glass in front of him and raised it slightly.

"Here, I want to give special thanks to the East's Type 055 destroyer off the coast of Abu Dhabi."

"Thank you for maintaining such admirable 'neutrality' during this sensitive period."

Li Li rotated his left wrist.

Maintaining neutrality, my foot. With that 055 lying across there, radar fully activated, the entire airspace of the Persian Gulf was locked down tight. The missiles of Israel wouldn't even dare to let out a fart in this direction.

This was clearly taking sides.

Zair put down the glass and raised his voice.

"But in this world, there are always some who do not play by the rules."

"The unprovoked airstrikes launched by Israel destroyed the airport runways in four of our cities and attacked a water park where civilians were gathered."

"This is not war. This is terrorism without any bottom line."

"And that superpower on the other side of the ocean—" Zair snorted coldly, "is still using their hypocritical human rights standards to provide ammunition for such atrocities."

"Helping the evildoer."

He switched directly to crisp, clear Chinese for these four words.

The livestream comment section exploded.

[Holy crap! The old man can speak Chinese!]

[A Middle Eastern veteran using his ultimate online! This point-blank roast is so satisfying!]

[United States: You might as well just read out my ID number.]

[055: You're welcome, I was just passing by to buy soy sauce.]

Zair's tone shifted once again.

He turned slightly to face the direction of Li Li.

"Finally, I want to thank one person."

The gazes of the hundreds of people in the venue, along with the screens of the thirty million viewers in the livestream, all slammed onto Li Li's 200,000-value LV black suit.

At the outer tables.

The silver fork in Gu Zeyan's hand fell onto his bone dish with a "clang." He gritted his teeth tightly.

Yin Ruoying didn't even dare to breathe, clutching her napkin, at a complete loss.

Two tables away, Shen Jue was so excited he almost jumped up, but Cen Ye pressed his shoulder down.

"Don't embarrass yourself." Cen Ye lowered his voice, though he himself gave Li Li a thumbs-up.

Not far away, Director Pei Zhao stared at the monitor, the prayer beads in his hand stopping. With these ratings, this level of prestige, which top celebrity in the domestic entertainment industry could get this kind of treatment?

Zair bowed slightly.

"Mr. Li Li."

"With one drone, you saved tens of thousands of lives in Ala Country and also saved our banquet today."

"The people of Ala Country will forever remember this favor."

Thunderous applause erupted. Spreading from the core tables to the outer ones, the applause shook the entire banquet hall.

Li Li stood up, placed his right hand over his left chest, and bowed his head slightly in return.

His movements were standard, with not a single flaw to be found.

He sat down. Jiang Rumu, sitting beside him, turned her head.

Her wine-red skirt swayed slightly with the movement. She looked at Li Li, the corners of her eyes curving into a distinct arc.

She didn't say anything. She just watched him like that.

The speed of the livestream comments doubled again, and the server began to lag crazily.

[Holy crap! Sister Mu's smile!]

[She is so proud! She is proud of him!]

[I approve of this marriage! I've brought the Civil Affairs Bureau here!]

[Li Li in Mu! Lock Li Li and Mu together!]

Li Li caught a glimpse of those four characters drifting across the screen.

Li Li in Mu.

What kind of terrible pun is this? Did this generation of netizens learn Chinese from their P.E. teacher?

Withdrawing his gaze, Li Li looked past the boiling red oil Hotpot toward the floral arrangement area.

Delia was standing next to a huge pot of white roses. She was also clapping. Her hands were folded, her rhythm steady.

Her gaze cut across half the banquet hall and collided straight with Li Li.

She stopped her movements, lifted her chin slightly, and nodded at Li Li.

Her movements were elegant, carrying the reserve characteristic of royalty.

Li Li also nodded.

Their gazes met in the air for a second before they both looked away.

If she really is a spy, this woman's psychological fortitude is ridiculously strong.

Zair sat down.

Fahd stood up. He rolled up the sleeves of his gold-trimmed formal wear twice.

"My friends, let's end the serious topics here."

"Next, it is time to witness a great invention from the East."

Fahd picked up a pair of specially made extra-long rosewood chopsticks and picked up a palm-sized piece of fresh tripe.

"Watch closely. This is called 'seven up, eight down'."

He pressed the tripe into the boiling beef tallow pot. Lift, drop. Lift, drop.

The movements were extremely practiced.

"Fifteen seconds. One second more and it's tough; one second less and it's not cooked."

Fahd lifted out the tripe, coated in red oil, rolled it in the minced garlic and sesame oil dipping sauce in front of him, and stuffed it directly into his mouth.

He chewed twice.

He gave a thumbs-up. "Incredible."

The atmosphere of the entire banquet hall was instantly ignited.

The dignitaries from various countries followed suit one after another.

The French representative, unable to use chopsticks, used a long-handled silver fork to spear a slice of lamb roll and threw it into the pot to boil for three minutes. He fished it out and shoved it into his mouth, panting from the spice, yet still giving a thumbs-up and shouting "C'est bon."

The British representative was choked by the Sichuan peppercorns and drank three glasses of ice water in a row, yet his fork was still reaching into the pot, attempting to fish out a slippery piece of duck blood.

The Russian representative was the most intense, picking up a whole plate of fatty beef and dumping the whole thing into the pot. He fished it out without even dipping it in sauce, swallowed it in one bite, and was so spicy that the veins on his forehead bulged, but he immediately followed it up with a large gulp of vodka.

The entire core banquet hall was suddenly eating with the vibe of a street food stall in Chongqing.

Jiang Rumu picked up a slice of lotus root and put it into the clear broth pot.

"You don't eat spicy food?" Li Li turned his head.

"For the sake of this 1.4 million dress, I have to exercise restraint." Jiang Rumu took a bite of the lotus root slice, unhurriedly.

The livestream comments were going crazy with amusement.

[Eating tripe with the posture of fine dining, that's hilarious!]

[That foreigner's face is red from the spice and he's still eating! Can't handle it but loves to play!]

[Russian uncle: Bottoms up to this bowl of red oil!]

[Cultural export a huge success! Chongqing Hotpot conquers the world!]

Li Li picked up his chopsticks.

He was just about to pick up a piece of aortic arch.

A waiter in a gray uniform pushed a food cart over.

The waiter stopped in front of Li Li and Jiang Rumu's table, picked up a pitcher of iced plum juice, and filled both of their crystal glasses.

The waiter kept his head down, moving efficiently. The name tag on his chest caught the light.

He put down the pitcher, cleared away the empty plates nearby, and pushed the cart away.

The whole process took less than ten seconds.

Li Li put down his chopsticks.

He reached out and picked up the crystal glass in front of him.

The moment the bottom of the glass left the paper coaster.

A white slip of paper, two fingers wide, lay quietly in the center of the coaster.

Li Li pressed his fingers against the edge of the paper and pulled it into his palm.

He flicked it open with his thumb.

On it was only a row of handwritten black numbers.

20:00.

The blue characters on his left wrist suddenly popped up.

Li Li rotated his wrist.

Fahd leaned over, still holding his dipping sauce dish. "How was it? My tripe was cooked authentically, right?"

Li Li didn't turn around, his gaze fixed on that slip of paper. "Authentic. But your security system seems to be leaking."

"What do you mean?" Fahd's movements stopped. A drop of red oil dripped from the tip of his chopsticks onto the pristine white tablecloth.

Li Li pushed the paper a little bit toward him, shielding it with his palm.

Fahd looked down. He saw the row of numbers clearly.

The hand holding the chopsticks shook violently.

Li Li raised his left hand.

A black three-hand watch. The second hand on the watch face ticked away.

The minute hand pointed steadily at the fifty-three-minute mark.

19:53.