sinovels Chapter 154 Vacation
Chapter 154 Vacation
Chapter 154 Vacation
Because Nicole Kidman wanted to see the sea last night, Ernst took her back to Montecito.
The problem then arises: no one is cooking.
Ernst originally planned to take everyone out to find a decent restaurant, but when he arrived at the restaurant, he was surprised to find a huge, lavish feast laid out on the table.
A glistening German-style pork knuckle sits proudly in the center of the table, its skin roasted to a crisp. A light touch with a silver knife produces a soft crackling sound, revealing glimpses of the tender pink meat inside.
A large plate of uniformly sized sausages, glistening with an enticing dark brown color, was stacked on the side.
The staple food is cornbread, which is neatly stacked in a bamboo basket.
There was also a large bowl of sauerkraut soup, the tangy aroma spreading with the ripples of the soup, whetting one's appetite.
Ernst hadn't expected that his bodyguards had already gone out to buy food. Without any formalities, he pulled out a chair and sat down.
I forked a piece of pork knuckle, dipped it in the sauce on the side, and put it in my mouth. The crispy skin and tender meat juices intertwined on my tongue, mixed with the slight spiciness of the sauce, instantly awakening my taste buds.
He was enjoying his meal when he saw Muller turn and walk into the kitchen, and a moment later he brought out two more dishes.
One plate of pan-fried potato chunks, crispy on the outside and soft on the inside, and the other plate of creamy mushroom pasta, with a thick sauce coating the pasta and exuding a rich, milky aroma.
Clearly, this was reserved specifically for Nicole Kidman.
"This restaurant is delicious. How come I never noticed it before?" Ernst praised, taking another sip of the sauerkraut soup.
With just one bite, his brow furrowed slightly.
The sauerkraut and pork belly tasted a bit strange. The sauerkraut was just the right amount of sourness, but the diced pork inside had a smoky, salty aroma and lacked the tenderness and fat of pork belly.
I was about to say something, but Müller beat me to it: "Boss, this isn't sauerkraut and pork belly, it's German sauerkraut and ham soup."
Müller is a German immigrant, so it's normal for him to like German food. But Ernst didn't expect that German food would be so similar to Northeastern Chinese cuisine. They're practically like brothers separated by Eurasia.
Although it dawned on me, "You even know about pickled cabbage and boiled pork belly?"
"There's no other way, there's no authentic sauerkraut in America. Once I went to a Chinese restaurant and saw that they were pickling sauerkraut, so I wanted to buy some. The owner was very hospitable and made this dish for me."
"Really?" Ernst became interested. "But you won't have to worry about not being able to eat authentic sauerkraut anymore. Go back and have Luna pickle some for you."
The atmosphere at the dinner table was lively, with everyone chatting and laughing. Suddenly, a sharp, angry roar came from upstairs, filled with undisguised rage: "Ernst, you bastard!"
The sound penetrated the floorboards and reached everyone's ears clearly.
The people at the table were taken aback at first, then they couldn't help but lower their heads, their shoulders twitching slightly, clearly trying to suppress their laughter.
Ernst sighed helplessly, slowly chewed and swallowed the pork knuckle in his mouth, put down his knife and fork, wiped his mouth with a napkin, got up and went upstairs, wondering what had provoked this Australian Aries this time.
As I slowly ascended the carpeted stairs, the sound of my footsteps was almost inaudible, absorbed by the thick carpet.
As Ernst pushed open the door to the master bedroom, the sight before him made him pause.
Nicole Kidman was sitting on the edge of the bed, her upper body bare, her skin gleaming like pearls in the sunlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
She seemed completely oblivious to her posture, her hands clenched tightly, her chest heaving violently with anger.
The large bed was now a mess, with newspapers scattered everywhere, some crumpled into balls, others sliding off the edge of the bed and onto the floor.
Ernst bent down to pick up a newspaper and immediately understood why the other person was so irritable.
The headline on the front page was particularly eye-catching—"Hollywood's Golden Couple's Marriage Breaks Down; Both Are Doing Their Own Things, Marriage Exists in Name Only."
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My gaze fell on the accompanying picture, a photo of Nicole Kidman getting into his car, taken from an extremely tricky angle, making it seem like the two had a close relationship.
Another picture shows Tom Cruise leaving the Four Seasons Hotel with a female companion he doesn't recognize. The two are behaving intimately and smiling broadly.
Ernst scoffed, tossed the newspaper aside, and picked up another one from the side.
The newspaper's headline was even more jarring—"An American Mogul's Intrusion? Or a Top Hollywood Actress's Climbing the Ladder?"
The words are full of speculation and malice, doing whatever it takes to attract attention, as if they had witnessed everything firsthand.
Ernst placed the newspaper on the bedside table, sat down next to Nicole, and wore a playful smile.
Seeing his expression only fueled Nicole Kidman's anger, and she kicked him as if trying to knock him off the bed.
Ernst reacted swiftly, grabbing her smooth, delicate calf. The skin he touched was soft and warm, unlike what one would expect from a European or American actress of her age; it felt more like the skin of an 18-year-old girl.
He asked in a deep voice, "Do you think Tom Cruise still cares about you?"
Nicole Kidman's struggling movements froze instantly, and the anger on her face gradually faded, replaced by a complex emotion.
She fell silent, her long eyelashes drooping down, obscuring the expression in her eyes.
Tom Cruise hasn't called her even once since last night.
She didn't come home last night. Even if he wasn't worried, he couldn't possibly miss the overwhelming media coverage these days.
But the result?
Her self-sunlight unconsciously fell on the phone lying quietly on the bedside table, as if silently mocking her naivety.
She recalled their recent behavior; yesterday, he didn't even bother to pretend anymore, abandoning her after walking the red carpet and parading around with his female companion in front of everyone.
The whole of Hollywood has probably heard about this by now. How can he possibly save face?
Thinking of this, Nicole's eyes reddened slightly, and her voice trembled with a barely perceptible sob.
"So you should be happy, this is a relief for you." Ernst's voice was deep and magnetic, as if it had a magical power.
"You should live for yourself, not live in Tom Cruise's shadow. Public opinion is temporary, like a gust of wind that blows away. Remember, history is always written by the victors."
Ernst paused, looked into Nicole's eyes, and said, word by word, "As long as you live better than him and have a higher status than him, tomorrow's newspapers won't say that Nicole Kidman is Tom Cruise's appendage. Instead, they'll say that Tom Cruise missed out on the best woman in the world."
He brainwashed her again and again. Nicole Kidman looked up, her eyes filled with confusion and bewilderment.
Her mind was a jumbled mess, with countless thoughts intertwined, making it impossible for her to think.
Seeing this, Ernst said nothing more, stood up, bent down to pick up the underwear scattered on the ground, and casually threw it to her.
"Put it on and get ready."
Nicole Kidman looked at him with confusion, not understanding what he wanted to do.
Ernst didn't give her an answer. He reached out, pulled back the covers, and picked her up in his arms.
Nicole gasped and instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck as the two walked straight into the bathroom.
An hour later, as the two boarded Ernst's chartered private jet, Nicole Kidman learned that he was taking her to Panama.
The plane soared smoothly into the sky, and the city outside the window gradually transformed into a miniature model.
Ernst handed Nicole a glass of champagne. "Consider it a vacation. You can also use this time to think carefully about what you want to choose next."
Nicole Kidman remained silent throughout, simply staring blankly at the ever-changing clouds outside the window.
Ernst tried his best to find topics to talk about, telling interesting anecdotes from around the world or some absurd and bizarre stories, in an attempt to make the atmosphere more relaxed and pleasant.
As Nicole listened, she realized something was amiss. Ernst's stories, seemingly aimless, all had one core message—to persuade people to leave.
After flying for more than two hours, the plane began to descend slowly.
As soon as the hatch opened, a wave of warm, humid air rushed in, carrying the salty smell of the sea, instantly making one feel incredibly close to nature.
Panama, a country in Central America, has become a top choice for Americans and Canadians to vacation abroad, though it's unclear when exactly.
This area has a tropical maritime climate, with temperatures ranging from 23 to 27 degrees Celsius year-round, making it warm and pleasant.
Because Panama has no heavy industry, the air quality here is amazing, the sky is always a clear blue, and the clouds hang in the sky like cotton candy.
It is said that 80% of Panamanians have never heard of the word "smog," let alone understand what it means.
Panama is also a famous coffee-producing region, and the world's best Geisha coffee is produced here.
Some say that coming to Panama without drinking a cup of Geisha coffee is like going to Paris without seeing the Eiffel Tower or going to Egypt without seeing the pyramids—it's an incredibly regrettable thing.
Panama City, the capital of Panama, is divided into the New City and the Old City. Because it was once a European colony, the Old City's architectural style blends Spanish, French, and Italian characteristics.
The entire Old City of Panama is listed as a UNESCO Intangible Cultural Heritage site. Strolling through it feels like stepping into a small town in Europe, giving you the illusion of having explored half of Europe.
The new city presents a completely different picture, with towering buildings, wide and clean streets, and a dazzling array of lights at night, offering a wide variety of entertainment activities and exuding a modern atmosphere.
Because of its location in Latin America, Panamanians have inherited the passionate and unrestrained character of the Latin people and the wildness of Mexico, all of which are very attractive to the middle class in North America.
However, Panama City was not Ernst's destination. Their destination was a small island near Panama City.
Panama has more than 300 islands. Because the locals refuse to overdevelop them, these islands have maintained their original appearance, like a paradise, isolated from the hustle and bustle of the outside world.
Here you'll find some of the finest beaches in the world, with sand as white as silver and so soft it feels like walking on clouds. The seawater is crystal clear, and sunlight shines through the surface, revealing vibrant colors and swimming fish on the seabed, creating a dreamlike scene.
Gamalas Island is about 30 nautical miles from Panama City.
After leaving the airport, the group transferred to a luxury cruise ship and purchased sufficient supplies.
By the time we arrived at Gamalas Island and checked into our wooden villa, it was already completely dark.
Seeing Nicole Kidman put down her luggage and look around, Ernst said, "I said, I paid for it, shouldn't you cook the food?"
Nicole Kidman glared at Ernst, who was resting on the sofa, and went to the kitchen. "Do you need them made?"
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Ernst pointed to himself, raised an eyebrow, and said, "You only need to take care of the two of us."
There are three wooden villas on the island and a pier, so Muller and his companion don't need to worry about them.
Ernst might end up going over there to freeload, who knows how good this beautiful Australian woman's cooking is.
All I can say is that Ernst was very prescient; he made a vegetable salad with pasta and pan-fried a steak, though it didn't look very good.
As for the taste, these things will taste the same no matter how any American woman makes them; the same seasonings are just thrown into the pot, and it will all be the same.
Ernst ate a few bites, then watched as the other person swayed away with her slender waist. Ernst pursed his lips, got up, and walked toward Muller and the others' house.
Even before getting close, you can smell a rich fragrance.
Upon closer inspection, they saw Muller and his group gathered around a campfire. A grill was placed over the fire, laden with various seafood and meats, sizzling and dripping oil onto the fire, sending sparks flying.
Several bottles of chilled beer and juice were placed on the small table next to them, creating a lively atmosphere.
"You guys certainly know how to enjoy yourselves." Ernst chuckled as he walked over, while he himself was eating like a dog's voluminous meal, theirs was like a beach party.
Tom saw him and teased, "Boss, didn't you say beauty is food for the eyes? You have a stunning beauty like Miss Nicole on your side, why do you need to come here to freeload?"
Muller then handed over a piece of roasted lamb chop, tender and juicy, with a crispy skin and an enticing aroma.
Ernst didn't stand on ceremony, took the lamb chop, sat down, and took a big bite. "Are you mocking me?"
Along the way, everyone could see that Nicole Kidman's cold and taciturn demeanor, combined with his incessant talking, truly resembled a sycophant trying to please his goddess.
After finishing the lamb chop in his hand, Ernst casually threw the bones into the nearby trash can, stood up, and patted the oil off his hands.
What to eat? At this moment, a man must prove himself.
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