nyslfriends Chapter 177 Only Junk Food Can Save the World
Chapter 177 Only Junk Food Can Save the World
The next day was overcast. The sky over Changxiang City was like a mushy rag that hadn't been wrung out, gray and heavy overhead.
Even before the roller shutter door of Renxin Pharmacy was fully opened, the aroma of fried chicken wafted out.
The smell seemed out of place in the old street filled with the aroma of Chinese medicine. Aunt Wang, who was passing by, sniffed and muttered, "What kind of trouble is this young doctor Wang up to now?" Then she quickened her pace to grab discounted eggs at the morning market.
Inside the shop, Pierre was sprinkling powder on a plate of freshly fried chicken wings.
The powder is not chili powder, but a pale purple powder with a strange aroma—it is a seasoning made by thoroughly detoxifying, drying, and grinding the "Ghost Umbrella".
"Boss, is this really going to work?" Pierre hesitated. As a French chef who strives for perfection, making this kind of high-calorie junk food would be an insult to his Michelin star. "This is top-grade hallucinogenic mushroom derivative, paired with these frozen chicken wings?"
"This is called 'happy powder'." Wang Minyu sat behind the counter, stamping a leave slip—a prop he had prepared to sneak into the school. "What students lack these days isn't nutrition, it's dopamine. They don't understand your high-end molecular gastronomy; it's these fried carbohydrates that are the key to opening their hearts."
Su Qing was tidying up a bunch of colorful packaging bags next to her, with words like "Renxin Special Brain-Boosting Chicken Nuggets" and "Top Scholar French Fries" printed on them.
Today she changed out of her white lab coat and into a rather stiff black suit, looking like a stern and unsmiling headmaster.
"Zero just intercepted a message from the school's internal forum." Su Qing handed over the tablet. "That 'meditation room' is really popular lately. Apparently, sitting in it for an hour can triple your memorization efficiency. But, many students become... very well-behaved afterward."
"good?"
"So well-behaved. No talking, no fighting, walks in a straight line, and even knows exactly when he goes to the toilet." Su Qing pointed to a secretly taken photo on the screen.
The photo shows a group of students in school uniforms eating in the cafeteria.
Hundreds of people moved in unison, heads down, shoveling food into their mouths, chewing, and swallowing.
There was no conversation, no laughter, and even the sound of chopsticks hitting the plates sounded like a rehearsed symphony.
That deathly sense of order was chilling.
"These aren't students, they're mass-produced chickens from an assembly line." Guan Shan was loading boxes of fried chicken onto a van when he saw the photo and shuddered. "I've never seen anything this organized when I was in the army."
Wang Minyu stared at a detail in the corner of the photo.
In the corner of the cafeteria, there is a row of green ivy plants.
But the leaves of that pothos were abnormally thick, and their color was a deep, almost blackish green. Moreover... all the leaf tips were pointing in the same direction: the administration building.
"Plants are attracted to light instinctively," Wang Minyu said, tossing the tablet back onto the table. "But these plants are attracted to 'evil' energy. That meditation room is in the administration building, right?"
"Yes, the top floor."
"Let's go." Wang Minyu stood up and straightened his collar.
He wore a slightly more formal shirt today, but he still held the stainless steel tea mug in his hand, "to loosen the soil for the flowers of our motherland."
The bread cart struggled to move through the morning rush hour traffic.
The train carriage smelled strongly of fried chicken.
Guan Shan was secretly eating while driving, and Su Qing glared at him several times.
"Boss, are we just going to go in like this?" Guan Shan asked, his mouth full of chicken nuggets, his words muffled. "That school has stricter security than prison. I heard they don't even let takeout food in."
"Who said we're food delivery workers?" Wang Minyu pointed to a name tag he had just pinned to his chest.
The name tag reads: "[Wang Minyu, Head of the Changxiang City Youth Mental Health and Dietary Nutrition Supervision Group]".
Below is an extremely realistic stamp—of course, that was forged overnight by Zero using a 3D printer.
"And this too." Wang Minyu kicked the box at his feet. "We're going to do charity work. We're distributing free 'nutritional supplements.' These days, you can refuse a salesperson, but no one will refuse a leader who's 'showing warmth' to students."
The bread truck stopped at the entrance of the First Experimental Middle School.
Sure enough, the gate was tightly closed, and several security guards stood ramrod straight, their eyes warily watching the passing vehicles.
The look in his eyes wasn't like he was looking at a person; it was more like he was scanning a QR code.
Wang Minyu got out of the car, exuding an aura of power.
His "skill of deception," honed from years of dealing with all sorts of shady characters, made him appear more like a leader than any real leader at that moment.
He stood with his hands behind his back, his brows slightly furrowed, looking at the security guards without saying a word, just watching them.
The security guard felt uneasy under their gaze.
"What are you doing here?" The security captain walked over, his tone firm, but his confidence was clearly lacking.
"What? Professor Yan didn't call your principal?" Wang Minyu's tone was displeased, even accusatory. "We're from the 'Geology and Ecological Psychology' research group sent by the province. We heard that your school's foundation has been having some... unusual reactions lately, so we came to take a look."
There's a mix of truth and falsehood in what he said. Professor Yan is indeed somewhat famous, and there are definitely problems with the foundation of his reputation.
The security captain was stunned.
Foundation? There has indeed been construction behind the school recently. Could something have happened?
Just then, a black Audi A6 drove out of the campus. The window rolled down, revealing half of a slightly tired but still dignified face.
"What's going on? Blocking the doorway is unacceptable!"
It's the principal, Zhang Yucai.
Wang Minyu smiled.
The main character has arrived.
He showed no humility whatsoever. Instead, he stepped forward, opened the back door of the Audi, and plopped inside.
"Principal Zhang, right? I'm Wang Minyu." He extended his hand, smiling at the bewildered Principal Zhang. "Shall we talk about that 'man-eating' room in your administration building?"
Zhang Yucai's expression changed instantly.
It wasn't anger, but a profound sense of terror at being exposed.
His pupils contracted sharply, and his hand instinctively reached for his breast pocket—where a black fountain pen was tucked.
"You... what nonsense are you talking about!" Zhang Yucai shouted sternly, but his voice trembled slightly.
"Don't be nervous." Wang Minyu pressed down on his hand, his fingertips slightly cool, accurately pressing on Zhang Yucai's Neiguan acupoint on his wrist. "I see your forehead is dark, indicating liver fire rising. Have you been hearing someone reciting in your ear at night lately? And... it's the math problems you couldn't solve in your college entrance exam?"
Zhang Yucai's body stiffened.
That was his biggest nightmare.
Since the meditation room was built, he dreams every night that he is back in the college entrance examination room, with a blank exam paper and the laughter of the proctors all around him.
"Who are you?" Zhang Yucai's voice softened.
"I'm here to help you." Wang Minyu let go of her hand and pointed to the bread truck outside the window. "Also, bring some food for the kids. They look so hungry, they're practically starving."
Just then, the bell rang, signaling the end of get out of class.
But strangely, there were no loud cheers or running sounds.
The campus remained eerily quiet. Students emerged from the teaching buildings, lined up like silent ghosts, and headed towards the playground.
Guan Shan opened the trunk of the van, and the strong aroma of fried chicken, carrying the scent of "Ghost Umbrella," instantly wafted into the campus on the wind.
In the line, a few students at the back suddenly stopped.
Their noses twitched.
The raw, fried aroma of food was like a hammer, shattering the mask-like numbness on their faces.
A chubby little boy swallowed hard, and the dull, lifeless look in his eyes flickered, revealing a hint of longing.
"It smells... a little nice?" he whispered.
The sound was like a pebble being thrown into a calm lake.