Nie Guotao didn’t care about being double-standard or not. Jiang Ji was his exception—but that didn’t mean he would extend the same courtesy to Cao Ji.
Not even for Yu Shangmei’s sake.
Liu Shanhua forced a smile. “Elder Nie, they just want a short interview—five minutes, tops. What do you think?”
Before the old man could respond, Nie Chen’s face had already turned cold. “We made it very clear beforehand—just a meal, no camera, no interviews. On the way here, we also confirmed with your assistant. Everything was settled. What now? You planning to go back on your word?”
The reporters, hearing this, turned their gazes toward Liu Shanhua, now filled with a hint of accusation.
“Elder Nie, we’re so sorry. We had no idea the interview wasn’t pre-approved.”
“If we’d known, we wouldn’t have approached you so recklessly.”
“Yeah, Chief Liu never mentioned anything. What do you take us for?”
Not only had he kept them in the dark, but he’d intentionally misled them.
If Elder Nie really got angry, wouldn’t the blame fall on them?
How underhanded!
Even with Liu Shanhua’s thick skin, he couldn’t handle the growing public outrage. His face turned an ugly shade.
Nie Chen then asked, “So… are we still having this meal or not?”
Liu Shanhua squeezed out a smile—worse than a crying face. “Of course, of course. This way, please.”
Since Elder Nie had agreed to Yu Shangmei’s request to eat at the branch, he really did just come for the meal. Nothing more.
And in the end, he even paid for it himself.
He acted just like a regular customer—no special treatment, no advantage taken.
Liu Shanhua looked at the barely-touched dishes on the table, then at the backs of the elderly man and the young one as they left. Rage boiled up.
He flipped the tablecloth with a violent motion—
CRASH! Dishes shattered, echoing through the restaurant.
The staff on standby didn’t dare breathe too loud.
Terrifying.
…
Meanwhile, the reporters—finally escaping Cao Ji after the failed interview—were unknowingly drawn toward the long line outside Jiang Ji.
First reaction: shock—
“Whoa! Why are there so many people?!”
“When I got here, the line only went to the fountain. Now it’s all the way to the garage entrance?”
“Sure, Jiang Ji’s popular online, but this? Isn’t this a bit too much?”
Second reaction: curiosity—
“With a line this long, just how good is the food?”
“These people treat this like chasing celebrities or something… blindly accepting whatever is served?”
“Homestyle dishes made by a former pancake vendor? Seriously?”
“What’s that smell? Kinda like freshly baked bread. Wait—this is a restaurant, right? Why’s there a bakery smell?”
Just then, Cao Dou came out leading a few tall, strong-looking waiters, each carrying a tray. With a clang, they set them on the front counter, then quickly donned masks and gloves.
“Freshly baked Danish skewers! Line up here, please! One per table according to your queue number, so just send one person per group—don’t push, don’t rush, everyone will get some!”
The salty aroma of cheese mingled with the savory scent of bacon, baked to perfection—it was irresistible.
GULP.
That was the sound of people swallowing their drool.
Reporter A: “Uh… it’s free, right? Should we go get one?”
Reporter B nodded: “I’m down.”
Reporter C had already run off giggling with a number in hand. “Gotta use this! Hehe~”
“Wow, fast move.”
“Of course! I meant to line up this morning. When I saw the line wasn’t too bad, I figured we could eat after the interview. Who knew we’d be stuck so long? And it’s all that guy’s fault, dragging things out and almost offending Elder Nie…”
Reporter C, a middle-aged woman, started ranting nonstop—mostly blaming Liu Shanhua.
The others chimed in, all in agreement.
Suddenly—“Hey! Isn’t that Elder Nie?! Look, look!”
Everyone turned.
No kidding—it really was him!
The old man stood mid-line, waiting obediently for his bread, fidgeting on tiptoe, neck stretched forward, eyes filled with undisguised longing.
“Why’s it taking so long…”
Nie Chen, taller, peeked ahead: “They’re handing it out now. Don’t be anxious.”
“Come on, hurry up, it smells so good…”
“How about we go talk to that girl from earlier? She seems to have some authority.”
Nie Guotao shot him a look: “It’s all your fault for being so useless. That girl clearly has no interest in being your girlfriend, and now I’m too embarrassed to ask for special treatment.”
Nie Chen: “?!” Completely dumbfounded.
“You said you were super popular in school. What kind of idol? Tch. More like some ragweed! No one wants you!”
Nie Chen: “!” What did I do?! And… why are we talking about girlfriends now?
Nie Guotao: “Stand straight! Line up properly!”
Nie Chen: “……” I’m suffering.
Finally, when they got their two skewers, the old man snatched both like treasure and clutched them to his chest.
Nie Chen looked at his empty hands, stunned.
Nie Guotao: “Want one? Get back in line. These two are mine.” He said, protectively cradling them like precious gems.
The resting area benches were all full, so the old man plopped down on the steps outside. The midday sun was just warm enough.
Nie Chen walked over helplessly. “You shouldn’t eat too much grilled stuff. One only.”
Old man’s eyes went round: “You stupid weed still dare lecture me?”
He calmly pulled out his phone: “If I can’t stop you, Grandma can.”
Instant panic.
“Don’t—come on, Little Chen, we’re family. Let’s talk this out nicely. No need to escalate.”
“Oh? So still want two?”
“No no, one and nine-tenths. That okay?”
Phone unlocked, expression cold: “Sure. I’ll tell Grandma you want 90%, heck even 100%, she’ll love that.”
“Stop! One and three-quarters!”
Click—opened the contacts.
“Okay okay okay! One and a half! Happy?”
Nie Chen grabbed one skewer and stuffed it in his mouth. “Nope. One is one. No more negotiations.”
The old man: “!”
“I’m calling her now.”
“….” Completely silent. Not even a squeak.
Meanwhile, after a long wait, the reporters finally got their skewers—wrapped in cartoon-style greaseproof paper, still warm.
One bite in: soft cheese, juicy bacon, crispy bread crust, flaky crumbs falling faster than their hands could catch.
“This is insane!”
“I wanna eat my tongue too.”
“Are we sure this is a restaurant, not a bakery?”
“Can we buy more? I want to take some home.”
Praise echoed not just among reporters, but in the queue as well.
“I’ll write a petition to make Auntie Han open a bakery!”
“Count me in!”
“Ughhh it smells too good, I want this forever! And that nougat bar they had before too!”
…
The reporters found a spot on the steps to sit and eat, and only after licking their fingers clean did they realize—Elder Nie was right beside them.
Panic!
They almost ran.
“Hey, why you running?”
“Uh… weren’t you refusing interviews?”
Nie Guotao: “Are you interviewing me now?”
“!” Right! They were eating, not interviewing!
“Elder Nie, weren’t you just eating at the other place?” How’d you end up in line here?
He was faster than them…
The old man huffed: “Wherever there’s good food, that’s where I’ll be.”
These reporters were sharp—they instantly got the subtext.
So basically… Jiang Ji’s food is good. Cao Ji’s isn’t.
They exchanged looks, mentally noting it down.
And honestly, they couldn’t disagree. That fancy feast at Cao Ji? Not it.
First, dishes were served too early—ice cold by the time they ate.
Second, the ingredients were top-notch—but too much so. Abalone, sea cucumber, shark fin, bird’s nest… this wasn’t some imperial kitchen.
People nowadays, especially the younger crowd, care about what?
Health! Wellness! Even milk tea gets ordered at 30% sugar—how can anyone expect them to gorge on super-rich dishes?
Cao Ji had been around for years but still stuck to its old ways—totally out of touch.
The two restaurants were polar opposites: one a clean-cut breath of fresh air, the other all glammed up. And in this day and age, who doesn’t love a wholesome beauty?
…
Back in the private room, three men, one stage.
While Jiang Fuyue sat and watched—completely lost in the fog.
