Chapter 66: The Mysterious Boss

Hollywood, the world's most powerful film factory, might not shoot movies faster than that group of quick-shooters in Hong Kong Island; but in any case, it could never pull off the bizarre practice of filming a single movie over several years.

Not to mention that filming aboard a battleship could not proceed indefinitely.

As an active-duty battleship, the Missouri had training exercises and a regular maintenance schedule. No matter which military mission it was, it was unsuitable to carry out while civilians were on board.

Yet a considerable portion of the entire film took place on the ship; aside from some explosion or destruction scenes shot on sets built inside a studio, one could imagine how tight the shooting schedule was.

Not only were the several lead actors busy to the point of flying, but even Henry, one of the background extras, might have to film an entire day's worth of scenes.

Sometimes he would run down a corridor; when switching to the next shot, he would run back from the other side of the same corridor. Other times only shots of footsteps were filmed; at other times, full-body shots.

If someone messed up their blocking, and the assistant director responsible for filming the connecting shots called "NG," they would have to reset and run again, wasting even more time.

These were still shots for background extras, with little regard for the visual quality. When the lead actors appeared, if the lighting was off and the shot didn't look good, even the slightest flaw would be grounds for an NG and a retake.

All of this made Henry realize that compared to true big-budget productions, those small-scale, low-budget productions really counted for nothing.

Fortunately, Old Hei's chef team provided Henry, who had never been this busy in his life, with enough spiritual comfort.

With a Michelin-starred chef on board, Henry couldn't imagine how these Americans relaxed; they still went to the bars outside the naval harbor after work and got themselves drunk.

If they had a headache, they swallowed two ibuprofen pills. If that didn't stop it, they took various leaves and powders in large doses, as if being clear-headed were an unforgivable sin.

These Americans completely couldn't understand the mindset of: feeling down, so eat a big meal; something worth celebrating, so eat a big meal; during holidays, so eat a big meal; waking up at midnight, so figure out a way to eat a big meal; having nothing to do, yet still needing to eat a big meal.

So during this period, the only ones who could talk to Old Hei or Henry were each other.

And Henry became one of the actors, besides the several lead stars, who enjoyed Old Hei's special-treatment cooking.

In Old Hei's words, if he didn't hone his cooking skills and research new dishes, but instead spent every day kneading dough to make donuts or baking pizzas, he would eventually waste away within this film production team.

"Then will you take this damn job again next time, where any random kitchen hand could do it? Chef." Henry occupied the kitchen's griddle, personally frying a steak; at the same time, he posed a soul-searching question to Old Hei, who was pondering seasonings nearby.

Don't let the fact that only a seemingly ordinary hamburger patty was being fried on the griddle fool you; this was a recipe developed through several days of effort by both Old Hei and Henry. It involved chopping several types of premium beef, kneading them together, and then adding specially prepared spices.

Claimed to be exquisite gourmet food accessible to commoners, it was actually unaffordable for commoners and used only to supply the wealthy. To be honest, some wealthy people who considered themselves low-key and reserved fell for exactly this kind of thing.

Even if the calculated cost of the ingredients could buy a meal at a high-end French restaurant, they were still willing to use a plain appearance to decorate a magnificent interior. This was completely opposite to the mentality of nouveau riche people eager to show off their wealth.

Upon hearing Henry's question, Old Hei had to shift his gaze from the spices. After struggling for a while, he said, "Fuck it, I'd probably still take it."

Henry was surprised: "Why? I thought you disliked making this kind of mindless, mass-produced cuisine. Using your culinary skills like a factory machine."

"My mysterious boss simply pays too much." Old Hei stated a helpless fact. He also said, "And do you think what a Michelin three-star chef relies on to make money? That star-rated restaurant? Don't be ridiculous."

"What do they rely on to make money?" Henry asked curiously.

Old Hei sneered, "It's by selling recipes and pre-prepared meal kits, those things you call mass-producible. Without relying on these to earn money and subsidize losses, how many people could keep a money-losing restaurant open?"

"You want the restaurant atmosphere, you want service quality; do you not think maintaining those damn things is expensive? Those chasing Michelin stars are just a bunch of crazy, foolish people."

Having seen such statements in certain food guides, Henry offered no comment. Instead, one of Old Hei's recent remarks made him ask curiously, "Mysterious boss! You weren't hired by some producer, were you?"

He originally wanted to add a prefix like "son of a bitch" before "producer." But since he was eating someone else's food, Henry held back a bit on his speech.

Old Hei looked proud. "The clientele I serve does not include anyone you can see here. The person who managed to pull that ship over to serve as a film set, however, might." He then pointed in the direction of the battleship outside.

"Can you guess which 'sour radish, don't eat' it is?" Henry asked casually, as if making small talk.

Old Hei explained, "Unfortunately, all my work is arranged through banquet companies. They only tell me how much the payment is, where to go, and what they want to eat, that's all."

"They won't tell me who the boss is or who needs to be entertained. You know, if these things were known in advance and leaked out, there would be a lot of trouble. So I'd rather not know."

"You didn't go there and only see a group of people dining while wearing damn Venetian masks, did you?"

"How could that be? Although there are cases where they do that, in most situations, I can meet the host of the dinner party. Even if I didn't know beforehand, how could I not say hello when we meet face-to-face? I know quite a few super-wealthy people."

"Then what is the situation here...?"

Sighing, Old Hei said, "Honestly, being assigned to a film production team like today is truly the first time in the history of the world. And it's a long-term assignment."

"At first, I even thought this was some kind of prank. After all, judging by the standard of my usual meals, let alone whether the ingredients are expensive, getting enough quantities to supply everyone is already a problem."

"Even if those few stars wanted to eat, they wouldn't have the patience for a meal that takes two or three hours. Everyone's standard is the same: high-calorie, filling food. And it has to be fast; otherwise, if filming is delayed, the producer or director will go crazy."

Regarding Old Hei's assessment, Henry really couldn't offer a counter-argument, because the reality was indeed exactly like that.

Seeing the steak was almost done frying, Henry used a fork to lift the steak onto a wire rack to drain the oil.

He didn't prepare a plate for himself; instead, he rummaged through a pile of premium ingredients hanging with a "Forbidden" sign, completely disregarding whether Old Hei nearby felt heartache.

(End of this chapter)