That's right, her luck was simply too good.
Out of fifteen lottery draws, for some reason, most of the prizes this time were solid physical assets with stable returns, such as land, real estate, plantations, and pastures.
Of course, none of these were disappointing.
Take the plantations, for example.
There were five in total. Four mainly produced rubber, and the remaining one grew coffee. What they had in common was their vast land area, excellent management, and increasing annual output. Most importantly, they were all connected together—
And all located in Nanyang.
This specific location caught Su Ning's attention. She felt as if an invisible hand behind her was pushing her forward step by step.
Naturally, she wasn't unhappy about it.
No matter what.
The tasks had to be done. Therefore, her life motto was to stop complaining while taking advantage of a good deal:
Anything that benefits me is good to go.
The remaining real estate and land were also quite valuable, easily worth millions. Su Ning just casually glanced over them.
Pay attention, here comes the main point.
If the previous items were common R cards.
The remaining three.
Were an SR card, an SR card, and an SSR card!
Yes, capitalized to show respect.
"Even so, I still can't understand how white-feathered chickens could be valued so highly."
Su Ning frowned. Of the two SR cards, one was an oil field located in the United States with an annual output three times that of the Yumen Oil Field. Once the news spread, American high society would instantly open its doors to her.
The other one was more suitable for her current situation.
Ships, a massive number of ships. There were ocean freighters exceeding ten thousand tons, luxury cruise ships, and a dazzling array of other small and medium-sized vessels.
So.
How on earth could mere white-feathered chickens compare!
"Why can't you understand?"
The system was actually surprised. "White-feathered chickens grow fast, consume less feed, and produce a lot of meat. They can be ready for the market in just forty days. A free-range chicken of the same weight would take at least a hundred days. Do you know what this means?"
It meant that more people could afford to eat meat.
Su Ning smiled slowly.
Eating meat seemed simple—just buy it with money. But as far as she knew, even in Peiping, it was considered good if most commoners could eat meat five times a year.
And that was just scraps, offal, and poor-quality cuts.
Ordinary people might raise two hens for eggs, but they barely had enough to feed themselves, let alone grain for the chickens. The birds would just peck at vegetable leaves and bugs. After being raised for half a year or a year, getting one egg a day was something to thank the heavens for.
Only during the New Year or major events like weddings and funerals.
Would they bear to kill one to eat.
Let alone the meat, they would often chew the bones clean. Humans naturally love eating meat; it is an innate pursuit of protein in human bones.
"I kind of want to eat fried chicken."
"What?"
The system thought it had misheard. With such an epoch-making product, all you want to do is eat fried chicken?
"Fried chicken. Coated in batter, dropped into hot oil, and fried to a golden crisp. Perfectly cooked fried chicken would be even better paired with an ice-cold cola."
Su Ning was full of enthusiasm.
She decided to have it right away.
That day in the kitchen, various master chefs, each an expert in a specific cuisine with countless signature dishes, encountered a difficult problem. The higher-ups ordered some sort of fried chicken?
"The rest is easy to manage."
A chef specializing in official banquets frowned. "The crispy outer coating needs to be golden and savory. Even though we haven't made it before, we can figure out the seasoning once we get our hands on it."
"But the requirement is for the chicken to be tender and juicy. How can we achieve that?"
The others also looked worried.
"Exactly."
"Fully grown chickens have tough meat. Dropping them into a wok of hot oil will dry them out even more. If we use young chicks, the meat would be tender, but the size wouldn't meet the requirements, and the flavor wouldn't compare to a mature chicken."
Difficult as it was, it had to be done.
Free-range chickens, Jiujin Yellow, Xianju chickens, Shouguang chickens... They tried every breed available, but none met the standard. Everyone was in despair.
They suspected Su Ning was deliberately tormenting them.
Of course.
No one dared to say it out loud. At that moment, Lin Sen actually arrived. Everyone in the kitchen was startled—how could such a trivial matter bother him?
Sure enough, he was also here for the fried chicken.
After listening to them.
Assistant Lin didn't even bat an eyelid. He summarized concisely:
"So, you haven't managed to do it, right?" He raised a hand to stop a chef who was about to explain, glanced at the time on his wristwatch, and said coldly: "Every one of you receives the highest salary in the industry. Therefore, I don't need to know how difficult the task is. I only want results."
"In thirty minutes, I want to see fried chicken that meets the requirements."
Buying that foreign beverage and chilling it.
Would take about that long.
"If you can't do it, bear the consequences yourselves."
After saying that, Assistant Lin waved his sleeve and left without taking a single cloud with him, but he left behind a few chickens. They had entirely white feathers, with only their combs and wattles a bright red.
"Thirty minutes? Even if you gave me two more hours, I wouldn't be able to think of a good method."
The crowd was dejected.
They guessed whether their salaries would be deducted or if they would be fired directly. If it were any other wealthy family, they might not get angry just because a dish wasn't cooked well, but... this was Su Ning.
Cold-blooded and harsh were synonymous with her name.
Because of this, no one dared to slack off, and no one dared to suggest using those hidden little tricks of the trade.
If they were discovered.
They would truly die.
"Stop complaining, let's just treat a dead horse as a living one." Someone stood up first, grabbed a chicken, weighed it in his hands, suddenly let out a sound of surprise, and squeezed it from top to bottom. The more he squeezed, the brighter his eyes became.
"What is it?"
"This chicken is really different."
His tone was excited. The crowd gathered around. To be a master chef, apart from having outstanding culinary skills, one also had to have a keen eye for selecting ingredients. They got excited too.
The texture of this chicken's meat was truly different.
It looked meaty.
But it was plump and soft.
Plucking the feathers, deboning, and chopping it into pieces—when they saw the quality of the meat, they felt a bit more confident. After coating it in flour and deep-frying it in hot oil, taking it out based on their intuition, someone picked up a piece and put it in his mouth under everyone's expectant gazes.
"It's a success!"
Everyone breathed a sigh of relief and sent someone to serve the fried chicken while it was hot.
The crisis had passed, and the atmosphere improved significantly.
Someone looked at the remaining chickens and chuckled:
"I don't know what kind of weird-looking chicken this is. It's grown this big, yet the meat is still very loose, and the bones are tender. It definitely wouldn't compare to other chickens for stewing soup or cooking dishes. Sigh, but it's just right for making this whatever fried chicken."
"Who cares what kind of chicken it is, as long as we can get through this. Assistant Lin probably found it."
"Wait."
The oldest chef among them, whose hair was completely white, frowned, stood up, grabbed a chicken, and examined it carefully. Suddenly, he said somewhat uncertainly:
"Based on my experience, this chicken must have grown very fast."
"So what if it's fast?"
The others said dismissively.
"What if I told you that this chicken hatched no more than two months ago, what would you think?" The elderly chef's voice was trembling.
The chefs: ...
Two months.
This chicken looks like it weighs at least four pounds!
...
Crunch.
Su Ning took a bite of the fried chicken. The crispy skin was neither too thin nor too thick, fried to perfection—crispy but not burnt. Paired with the abundant juices of the chicken meat, it was incredibly delicious.
She took another sip of the Republican-era version of cola.
Separated by nearly a century.
The taste was surprisingly similar, just a bit sweeter and not quite as carbonated.
After eating and drinking her fill, she still had to face the bleak reality.
"Congratulations, Host. The one-hundred-million mission has been completed with an overall rating of Outstanding. You are about to receive a generous reward. Please click for details."
"Warning! Critical warning! The Host's account balance has fallen below two hundred thousand. Calculations indicate it will be completely depleted within thirty days. Please acquire financial rewards as soon as possible."
On the system interface, these two drastically different messages flashed and trembled incessantly, their presence practically screaming for attention. The fact that a certain someone had managed to completely ignore them until she finished eating her fried chicken was, honestly, quite impressive.
