And one piece of good news is that Mike has handled all the arrangements!
A total of sixty-two world-class chefs have embarked on their journey, and tomorrow they will all arrive here successfully, gathering at the pre-arranged villa complex.
These are the sixty-two finest chefs in the world; such an assembly is likely unprecedented in history, perhaps even the first time!
Cao Baiming's heart was already stirring with excitement, eagerly anticipating tomorrow evening's arrival.
These sixty-two chefs were an exorbitant expense. The successful invitation of each individual was due not only to Mike's conversational skills but also to the irresistible offer Cao Baiming had presented.
The average price for each chef to prepare one dish was ten million Euros, with all travel, accommodation, and logistics fully covered. Such an opportunity, once believed, was impossible to refuse.
Among the more than sixty individuals, only one explicitly declined, citing a fear of succumbing to their past destructive path once again if they became too wealthy.
Cooking is an art, and in any profession, reaching its apex transforms it into an art form.
These individuals were, without a doubt, artists. Art is priceless, and Cao Baiming firmly believed they were entirely worth the cost.
Moreover, the total expenditure amounted to only a few hundred million, a mere pittance, easily replenished with a few more ambitious goals.
With everything settled, Cao Baiming commenced his final task for the day: sleep.
Upon waking, he found it amusing that the sky was still dark when he closed his eyes, only to open them again to find it bright white. The sun hung high in the sky, and even through the curtains, its warm rays penetrated.
After tidying himself up, he took a few steps forward and ate a slice of toast, freshly taken from the oven. He spread a thin layer of blueberry jam on it, followed by a second layer of Lao Gan Ma chili sauce, brought from Tang Country. One bite was a heavenly delight.
This was Cao Baiming's secret recipe: a Lao Gan Ma and blueberry jam sandwich, unique in the world.
After finishing, he casually pulled a white tissue from the table nearby, his gaze lingering on it for a mere half-second before he wiped his hands and mouth.
Carrying the anticipation of the day, he walked through the living room's entryway, crossed a sun-drenched path, and arrived at the main door.
Cao Baiming patted his pocket; what lay within was none other than his car keys.
Upon opening the door, the world outside unfolded before him: the chirping of birds and the rustling of leaves in the wind, as if nature itself were performing a symphony for him.
Although he had seen these sights countless times before, today felt like the first.
He glanced up at the sky, the blue of an angel, the clouds white. Inadvertently, he seemed to sense the Creator's intent.
Closing the door behind him, Cao Baiming headed straight for the garage, where thirty meticulously chosen new cars, air-freighted from Tang Country's garage just days ago, were waiting.
These cars were varied, and even Henry's car and that silver-gray sports car seemed to pale in comparison.
His task was to select today's vehicle, as a new mood each day naturally called for a new automobile to match.
There was a particular significance to the evening's gathering. This moment in the garage might be the last time before the event, perhaps only the daytime of the day after the gathering would offer another opportunity.
He intended to drive this car to the event, so it had to be one that best suited his taste and truly expressed it.
Tonight, Cao Baiming would undoubtedly be the protagonist.
After much deliberation and a long process of selection, he finally settled on the dark gray Lamborghini convertible he had purchased after arriving at Arsenal. Its surface shimmered with a matte metallic sheen.
When the weather is good, one should drive a convertible; not only can you feel the breeze, but you also don't feel confined or oppressed by space.
Locating the keys to this car, Cao Baiming opened the door, inserted the key into the ignition slot beside the steering wheel, and with a roar of the engine, the car drove out of the garage.
He hit the road, heading towards the stadium.
The final training session of the morning saw everyone in a similarly restless mood.
If they were already contemplating the freedom of the afternoon, who could truly focus their entire being on training?
Arriving at the training ground, only a few people were present that day; Cao Baiming was considered one of the earlier arrivals.
A certain scent permeated the air of the stadium. Upon reflection, it seemed to have always been present, though its origin remained elusive.
Perhaps it was a wondrous chemical reaction of nature, perhaps some conspiracy, or perhaps just an ordinary smell.
Mikel Arteta stood a short distance away, and Cao Baiming walked over.
There would be no more surprises today; everyone was simply late.
Returning to training, the football rolled back and forth on the pitch, kicked between players' feet. Unbeknownst to them, the entire morning had passed.
Meanwhile, Wu Xue was in her dorm, preparing her appearance, as she was scheduled to head to the villa early in the afternoon.
David Beckham's private jet had already landed at the airport, and Ronaldo, along with a group of friends, was also en route, their plane about to touch down.
The national team and some friends from Tang Country had also received invitations. Their plane, timed with the time zones, was nearing the airport around eleven in the morning.
To minimize any further waiting for these guests, as soon as training concluded, Cao Baiming contacted his manager, Mike.
Whatever remaining matters there were, they needed immediate attention.
The culinary teams were arriving successively. Many had traveled long distances, flying into the area and then requiring dedicated transport from the airport to the villa complex.
Although the head of the district consistently opposed the idea of blocking traffic, after Mike presented five hundred million US dollars, he offered no further objection and promptly dispatched a traffic police unit to set up checkpoints at various intersections.
Today, this entire district belonged to Cao Baiming alone!
The stadium had undergone some decoration, and everything was impeccably prepared. Even the cleaning staff were recruited as part-time students from Arsenal's top university.
This was the final morning of training; although training would resume the day after tomorrow, a day and a half of consecutive leave was more than enough.
Everyone offered their blessings, and then Cao Baiming, driving alone, headed towards the villa area.
The thirty-minute journey was undertaken without him having even eaten a meal. Since the first batch of chefs would be arriving soon, there was no need to rush.
Mike had already arrived ahead of time. He was driving a dark blue car, and even from a distance, Cao Baiming recognized it instantly.