"Ha-ha! Well, that's simple—Microsoft, Microsoft, feed the soft one, feed the soft one—doesn't that just sound like the soft egg laid by a well-fed chicken from our hometown? Not at all special! Not at all special! Just one big egg!" Highlight made a circular motion with both hands, forming a shape just like an egg. The crowd burst into laughter, and Ma Long looked particularly pleased, chuckling, "There's good material here!" Summer Yu couldn't help but laugh, as she'd never heard such down-to-earth words before. Her hometown was in Taiwan, where there was a poultry farm—she had a happy childhood there. After attending high school with her father in a coastal city, her family's food manufacturing company struggled due to fierce competition in the food industry. Her father had been holding on for years, and now, it's nearly on the brink of collapse. "So, do you know magic? Do you know what magic is?" Ma Long was confident in his own magic, clearly proud. "Magic? Oh!" Highlighted her back of the head, then, in front of everyone, slapped her thigh excitedly and said, "That's so simple! Isn't it just the same as what we have back in our hometown?" She then pulled out from among the fertilizer bags something resembling a water chestnut, beaming and said, "This is the magic taro grown in the fields—when you chew it, it gives you a slightly numbing sensation. I'm not sure if you like it or not. If you do, I've got plenty more here. If you really get into it, I'll bring more back from my hometown. But, of course, there's a fee!" For some reason, her words made the audience members who had been planning to leave sit down. The journalists began to get busy, as the final award ceremony was about to begin. Ma Long was full of confidence, smiling proudly, feeling certain of his victory. The ten committee experts were still finalizing their deliberations. Just as they were about to announce the results, a dramatic moment occurred—when Hou Liang was suddenly rushed off the stage, he said, "Microsoft, what's that? Soft? Magic? Taro? What's that? I don't care!" "Text: This casual 'I don't care' unexpectedly angered Ma Long, who said with disdain, 'Stand there—since you don't care, let's have a match!' Person: 'Great! Great! Our hometown's taro is absolutely delicious—try a bite!' Book: Gao Liang lifted the taro and brought it to Ma Long's lips. Ma Long smiled politely but said with dryness, 'Heh, heh, delicious, delicious!' Room: The ten expert judges from the evaluation committee shook their heads, watching the lively scene. Xia Yu's eyes widened, her face filled with anxiety, as Li General hadn't arrived today—this was a five-year event! If they lost this, it would be too late. Ma Long, no surprise, was the CEO of Microsoft China, deeply knowledgeable in computers. He spoke fluently and confidently on stage, earning rounds of applause. In contrast, Gao Liang remained indifferent, casually chuckling throughout. 'Hit by the ball! Hit by the ball!' Sighed three times in a row, completely out of sync with the lively atmosphere on stage. Ma Long once again glared at him with disdain, then, after finishing his performance, said, "You, a country bumpkin who doesn't even know what Microsoft is, aren't even qualified to pick up a shoe!" "Indeed! Indeed! How could a simple country fellow like him possibly compare to our Ma General? I think it's better if he takes over Ma General's duty of emptying the urinal!" Zhang San mocked. "No, no—it's the toilet! No, even that's not good enough!" Li Si also laughed scornfully. Amidst the growing wave of cold remarks and ridicule directed at Gaoang, Ma Long grew more confident. At that moment, the host announced: "There are only twenty minutes left before the final decision is made—please make every effort to finish your performance!" Wang Long smiled warmly. Over these twenty minutes, he'd simply enjoy teasing this country bumpkin—someone even Microsoft didn't know well—just to pass the time, and then patiently wait for the top prize. When the moment came, money, fame, and status would all roll in, and that stunning, deeply beautiful Xia Yu wouldn't be any different—she'd naturally become his prize. Thinking about touching that inviting, lush, magnificent body, and imagining her writhing in bed, pleading for mercy, he felt utterly enchanted. Oh, how satisfying! He was the most satisfied man in the world! Because he was the finest man in the world! The finest man of all! This country bumpkin? He's going to die! I have beauty, wealth, fame, and status—while you're still a farmer. Go back to your village and grow taro! He turned to Gao Guang, who was still yawning, and asked, "Are you ready to give it a try?" Gao Guang beamed and, from a bag of fertilizer, pulled out a bamboo stick, extended it to his back, and began scratching himself. The awkward, comical gesture caused the audience to burst into laughter. "So plain! So ordinary Ma Long spat out a stream of saliva, looking at Gao Liang with utter disdain—after all, it was just to pass the time. On the stage, Ma Long unfolded his laptop and opened his paper titled "Microsoft's Market Analysis in China for the First Half of the Year," continuing his fluent presentation. His deep expertise left everyone in awe, and many shouted, "Ma General! Ma General! Our working emperor! The working emperor earning 500,000 RMB a year!" "Send that country bumpkin off the stage! He doesn't belong standing beside Ma General—don't want to soil the place!" Zhang San and Li Si were cheering from the sidelines. The crowd was also clapping and cheering, and Xia Yu, feeling bored, had decided to leave. But soon, the crowd fell silent. Xia Yu turned to see that, just as Ma Long was halfway through reading his paper on Microsoft's market analysis, the young man had begun speaking up himself, fluently and naturally. This move left everyone stunned—a country bumpkin, somehow, could understand computers and grasp Microsoft's business market analysis. What a miracle! Ma Long remained unconvinced, interrupting Gao Huang and saying, "You're just reading from my script; anyone who knows a few characters can do that!" He then closed his laptop. Indeed, as soon as he closed it, Gao Huang choked up and dramatically argued with Ma Long, "Show me your script! It's quite well-written!" "Haha!" Ma Long was so flattered he nearly floated into the sky. "Go on! Go down! You still have ten minutes! If you don't waste time, hurry down!" Ma Long leaned in close to the young man's ear. At that moment, the young man became enthusiastic and said, "Reading from a script isn't exciting enough—I'd rather recite it from memory!" The audience immediately clapped, exclaiming, "Yes! Yes! Please recite it!" The host announced immediately in front of everyone: "The recitation competition has begun." Ma Long felt even more confident. This essay was his own composition—he wouldn’t just recite it word for word, but at the very least, he would deliver its essence fluently. You, a farmer who only reads from scripts, see how you manage to recite my draft! The moment had arrived! Journalists from the Binhai TV station, radio station, Binhai Daily, Binhai Evening News, and the official Binhai city website all arrived on-site for live coverage. Ma Long recited seamlessly, even surpassing the original text in fluency and emotional impact—after all, it was his own creation, earning high praise from the ten judges. The journalists纷纷 raised their thumbs in admiration, continuously applauding: "Ma General, outstanding! Truly outstanding! You are the most outstanding young talent in Binhai!" Flowers, applause, and cheers poured in—Ma Long radiated confidence and pride. Watching the audience, he imagined countless possibilities in his mind. Summer Rain was also deeply impressed by Ma Long’s brilliance—indeed, so he was. The contrast was too great—how could a simple farmer possibly compare with a dynamic business leader? At most, he'd just add some comic relief. Just as she was thinking this, a smooth, fluent voice came through—oh my! Not Mandarin, but English! "Farmers understand English! Farmers understand English!" The audience erupted in cheers, as if discovering a new continent. "Oh, what a remarkable achievement—translating Mr. Ma's just-delivered Mandarin speech into fluent English!" A bilingual translator, proficient in both Chinese and English, removed his glasses and carefully studied the unassuming farmer, as if reassessing his true identity. Xia Yu, the romantic girl, fixed her gaze and sensed something familiar—how did she know this person? Who was he? Before she could think clearly, the crowd stirred again, as the most spectacular moment had arrived. Ma Long, visibly furious, exclaimed, "You're just a country bumpkin—what's so impressive about knowing a few English words? Do you even know how to perform magic?" "Taro root—boring! But the taste is good!" Gao Liang took a taro root from the fertilizer bag, bit into it, and passed the remaining half to Ma Long. Ma Long felt nauseated—how unclean the countryside people were! So dirty, not even washed, let alone half-eaten by him.