hollywood billionaire

Chapter 577 Le Cinq
"I still can't believe it."

"How could a man like you... never have been to Paris?"

Fiddled with the last bite of foie gras passion fruit jelly on her plate, picking up and putting down her silver fork, Barbara finally couldn't help but ask her boyfriend across the table the question.

After checking in, the two did not actually experience the automatic transmission as they had joked about in the car. They got up at 5:30 a.m., played a fierce game, exercised for an hour, and then spent the afternoon traveling, crossing the strait from one capital city to another. Even the toughest body would feel tired.

Therefore, without needing to exchange words, the young couple tacitly snuggled together on the sofa and took a nap for about an hour. Afterwards, they got up to wash and dress. Han Yi changed into a suit, which was slightly thinner than the one he wore in London, and he was missing an undershirt. Barbara, on the other hand, did some quick makeup. Although she didn't change into a formal dress, she was dressed much more formally than when she took the plane.

As the first major event after landing in Paris, Han Yi had booked a table for two at Le Cinq restaurant for 7 pm with the help of the concierge department of the Four Seasons Hotel George V half a month ago.

Le Cinq, a name nestled in the heart of the Four Seasons Hotel George V, is a Michelin three-star restaurant that is virtually unrivaled in all of France. In the narrative of Parisian gastronomy, it is like a prince of illustrious birth, who experienced coronation, loss, and finally reclaimed the throne.

Its legend, strictly speaking, began in 1996. When the Saudi prince joined forces with the Four Seasons Group to take over the dormant George V Hotel and spend lavishly on its renovation, their goal was not merely to restore it to a palatial level.

They wanted to create a sanctuary that brought together all the essence and traditions of French high society.

French cuisine is naturally among them.

Guided by this goal, in 2001, Le Cinq—meaning "the fifth," referring both to the hotel's name and alluding to the 5th arrondissement of Paris, the center of French cultural life since the Middle Ages, even though the hotel itself is located in the 8th arrondissement—opened with great fanfare. To match the hotel's ultra-high-profile nature, Le Cinq poached chef Philippe Legendre from the then-three-Michelin-starred legendary restaurant Taillevent.

Legendre lived up to expectations, quickly conquering Paris with his masterful French culinary skills. Critics were full of praise, and Michelin stars followed one after another. Just two years later, in 2003, Le Cinq earned the highest honor of three Michelin stars.

For the next seven years, Le Cinq in the Legendre era was synonymous with luxury. Its service was a concerto of military precision and operatic elegance, and its cuisine a monument to classicism. It defined what it meant to dine in a Parisian palace, like royalty who had ruled the land countless times.

However, in the world of food, it's like rowing against the current; if you don't move forward, you fall behind.

In 2008, Legendre retired. The hotel brought in another talented chef, Eric Brifal. Brifal attempted to incorporate more modern elements into the classic framework, but he faced a Paris in the wake of the economic crisis, a Paris that was increasingly competitive and whose tastes were constantly changing.

The heaviest blow came quietly. In the eyes of Michelin's anonymous judges, Le Cinq's brilliance seemed to have dimmed. That once most dazzling third star was removed in the second year of Brifal's tenure.

For a top-tier restaurant like Le Cinq, which spares no expense and values ​​its reputation above all else, being downgraded from three stars to two was tantamount to a public execution. In the following years, despite Brifal's efforts to maintain it, Le Cinq remained stuck in the two-star category.

The hotel management clearly couldn't tolerate this failure. They needed a savior.

Thus, in 2014, the Parisian culinary world witnessed a historic transfer.

They poached Christian Lesquere, the key figure, from another legendary three-Michelin-starred restaurant in Paris, Pavillon Ledoyen, located in the Champs-Élysées Gardens.

Lescare has held the three-Michelin stars at Pavillon Ledoyen for 12 years, and he is widely recognized as a master chef whose skills have reached the pinnacle. The intention behind poaching him is crystal clear: to reclaim the lost crown at all costs.

Taking over Le Cinq, Lesquere faced immense pressure; all of Paris was watching him. Instead of a radical revolution, he chose a more challenging path of evolution. He preserved Le Cinq's luxurious heritage and palatial grandeur, but infused the dishes with a stunning modernity and precise lightness. He skillfully blended the maritime spirit of his native Brittany into the exquisite complexity of French cuisine.

Confit lemon with caviar, white truffle pasta foam... each dish has both a classic soul and a modern framework.

The judges did not disappoint the master's work.

In February 2016, the annual Michelin Guide was released.

The moment the list was announced, Le Cinq's name returned to the pinnacle of that prestigious list.

Samsung!

Le Cinq, the lost prince, finally put his crown back on in 2016, announcing his undisputed return to the throne.

For Han Yi, a gourmet avid Michelin-starred foodie, staying at the Four Seasons Hotel George V without experiencing Le Cinq, especially since Le Cinq had just regained its place at the pinnacle of Parisian gastronomy in 2016, would be practically a crime. In fact, if his time in Paris hadn't been so short and if there weren't so many restaurants he wanted to try, Han Yi would have even considered trying the hotel's other two restaurants, L'Orangerie and Le George.

why?
Because when the 2017 Michelin Guide is released next year, Le Cinq will retain its three-star status, while L'Orangerie and Le George will simultaneously earn their first Michelin stars, making the Four Seasons Hotel George V the first hotel in Europe to have three Michelin-starred restaurants.

For Han Yi, clearing out such a culinary sanctuary would undoubtedly be a very rewarding experience.

But it doesn't matter. Missing two Michelin one-star restaurants won't make Han Yi feel too regretful, because he has many more three-star restaurants to visit in the next four days.

At this moment, he was immersed in a jubilant feeling that only a passionate lover of world cuisine could understand. Le Cinq was not only his first meal in Paris, but also his first time experiencing a top-tier restaurant in the birthplace of French cuisine, representing the highest level of French cooking, service, and culinary philosophy.

It must be said that although Per Se in New York still holds an important place in his heart, Le Cinq, by any measure, is superior to Thomas Keller's restaurant in standing out among 175,000 restaurants in Paris and earning three stars.

If Per Se in New York is a meticulously calculated, theatrical modern luxury, then Le Cinq is an undisguised, Versailles-like splendor inherited from bygone eras.

The restaurant's interior décor perfectly embodies the meaning of opulent splendor. Just like the legends of the Legendre era, the ceilings are breathtakingly high, adorned with intricate gilded carvings and enormous crystal chandeliers. Soft light, refracted through countless facets, falls evenly onto the heavy French carpets and massive Flemish tapestries, bathing the entire space in a warm and dignified golden glow.

Huge, gilded-framed mirrors adorned the walls, further enhancing the sense of depth in the space. Each table was draped with an impeccably white tablecloth, and diners sat quietly in Louis XVI-style velvet armchairs, their silver cutlery and Baccarat crystal glasses shimmering subtly in the candlelight. A delicate fragrance of flowers and butter filled the air, and waiters moved about silently, like ghosts, their service precise, elegant, and utterly undisturbed.

In such a near-perfect classical temple, almost no one paid much attention to Han Yi and Barbara's table sitting in the corner by the window.

More accurately, many people noticed Barbara, but few cast overly explicit glances at her.

As one of the most sought-after supermodels in the fashion world today, Barbara possesses the ability to instantly become the center of attention no matter what room she enters. This is an amazing talent she was born with, and also the extraordinary charisma she has cultivated under the sculpting of countless cameras. She simply sits there casually, chin in hand, and already creates a breathtaking picture.

But this is Le Cinq after all. Tonight's patrons are mostly wealthy locals with plenty of leisure time, or seasoned connoisseurs from around the world. Many of them live in circles almost completely isolated from fashion magazines and social media; they have no idea who Barbara is, but simply admire this young woman's extraordinary beauty and poise with the eye of an art connoisseur.

The other small group of people who recognized her—perhaps an executive of a luxury goods group, or a foreign tourist who is passionate about the fashion industry—would never lose their composure and disturb her in such a situation.

After all, in 2016, experiencing the La Balade Gourmande dinner at Christian Lesquere, a gourmet stroll dinner package, would cost at least €310 per person, not including the equally expensive drinks, which could easily cost thousands of euros. Everyone paid a hefty price for these few hours of ultimate experience; they came to savor the food and enjoy the service, for an undisturbed, luxurious evening, not to be stared at by others.

Of course, there are always exceptions.

Out of the corner of his eye, Han Yi noticed that across the restaurant, two or three well-dressed young female guests were pretending to take selfies with their phones, and then secretly and briefly pointed the camera at Barbara.

Han Yi was not worried about this; he knew very well what would become of these photos.

They won't be sent to the Daily Mail, TMZ, or any local Parisian tabloids; that would be beneath them and wouldn't suit their status here tonight.

These poorly angled, dimly lit, and therefore somewhat blurry photos would only be posted on their private Instagram or Facebook accounts, which have little public reach. It was more like a subtle declaration of their power that they had come to Le Cinq that night, not only to enjoy top-notch French cuisine but also to have a chance encounter with a world-class supermodel.

This is perfect proof that they had briefly touched that unattainable upper-class circle.

What else can I say? I think the only explanation is... Paris just wasn't meant to be for me before, and I just missed it time and time again.

Han Yi shrugged, letting the waiter clear away his empty plate. He fiddled with the Pliny-Montrachet white wine the sommelier had just poured for him, mentally preparing his next words.

He knew very well that, for him, or rather for the wealth and power he currently displayed, never having been to Paris was indeed an almost absurd thing.

Han Yi's displayed wealth and lifestyle made him seem like the quintessential darling of a trust fund. He should have been the kind of person who, from infancy, was taken by his nanny and parents and landed at Le Bourget Airport on a private jet.

In January and February, enjoy the thrill of skiing on private trails in Aspen or indulging in snowy luxury at Cheval Blanc Randheli in Courchevel. If you tire of the cold, a New Year's Eve party in St. Basil's or a private island in the Maldives are always good alternatives.

In March and April, as spring begins to emerge, you might have a few new spring/summer suits tailored on Savile Row in London, or fly to Florence, pretending to be a Renaissance enthusiast, and book an evening session at the Uffizi Gallery after closing time to admire Botticelli with a chance encounter.

May and June are peak season. Go to Monaco to watch the Formula 1 Grand Prix and pop champagne on a superyacht docked in Hercules Port. Or head to Cannes and linger at the various parties of the film festival.

In July and August, the Mediterranean is the only answer. Spend your time on the French Riviera, cruise along the Amalfi Coast, or party all night on the Greek island of Mykonos.

In September and October, as the weather cools, they migrate back to the metropolis like birds. New York's Upper East Side, London's Mayfair, or Paris's Golden Triangle. They attend various charity galas, art auctions, and exclusive fashion week events.

November and December are for preparing for the holidays. Hunting in a Scottish Highland manor or waiting for the Christmas sun on some Caribbean island.

On such a schedule built on money, Paris, the city of light that exudes eternal charm, should have been a backdrop throughout the seasons, their second or even third home that they knew so well.

Han Yi, surprisingly, was visiting for the first time. In fact, he could have lied.

With his memory and information retrieval skills, he could easily spend several hours constructing a perfect Parisian resume in his mind. He could recall feeding pigeons in the Tuileries Garden as a child, comment on which of the two long-established three-star restaurants, L'Ambroisie and Arpège, had a more traditional style, and even complain about how terrible the traffic was in the narrow streets and alleys of the Saint-Germain-des-Prés district on the Left Bank, and how worrying the seriously declining security was now.

He was absolutely certain he could fool Barbara if he wanted to.

But he didn't.

Since his rebirth, Han Yi has had far too many things to deceive and conceal. Memoranda, the source of his wealth, his precognitive abilities, and of course, the dangerous game of walking a tightrope between four girls…

There was really no need for him to add another layer of pretense to such a trivial matter as whether he had been to Paris.

To maintain one lie, it often takes a hundred new lies to cover it up.

too tired.

Faced with his perfect girlfriend who made him feel relaxed and happy, Han Yi preferred to choose a moment of authenticity.

After all, the truth always triumphs over any carefully crafted script.

“Before going to school in the United States, I spent most of my time in Asia. I... I used to be the kind of person who only liked tall buildings. I liked cities with skyscrapers and modern infrastructure, so traveling to Paris was never on my mind.”

“If you’ve never been here before…” Barbara hesitated, “what about your family? Your mother and grandmother, have they ever been here?”

“No.” Han Yi shook his head. “They almost never leave their city, let alone go abroad. They only travel when necessary, such as to attend my graduation ceremony.”

“Interesting.” Barbara gave Han Yi a sweet smile. “This means that when they arrive here next year, I’ll be the first European face they see, right?”

"What is a European face?" Han Yi couldn't help but chuckle. "It sounds a bit racist... but that's right, you'll be the first European they see."

"Yay!" Barbara clenched her little fist, raised it to her chest and shook it, cheering softly, "I will be the best, most considerate and most enthusiastic tour guide they have ever met."

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Han Yi said, crossing his arms and deliberately adopting a critical tone. “Let’s see how you performed in Paris this time.”

"You're not good enough to be a judge; you're not objective."

"Who said that?" Han Yi retorted stubbornly, "I have always been fair and impartial."

"Fair and impartial?" Barbara glanced around to make sure no one was paying attention to them for the time being, then leaned down and left a sensual scent in Han Yi's ear. "The judges are sleeping with the contestants, how can they be fair and impartial?"

“You’re right.” Han Yi’s words softened instantly, but his other parts hardened. “I’m a corrupt and degenerate judge. In my eyes, anything my girlfriend does deserves a perfect score.”

"Ten points is too few, I want one hundred points."

"A perfect score is ten points."

“It’s precisely because a perfect score is ten that I want a hundred. I want to be ten times better than any girl you’ve ever met.” As she said this, Barbara took a leisurely sip of the chilled white wine that had fine droplets clinging to the glass. “As a lover, as a tour guide, as every role I might play.”

“You’re definitely ten times better than any other girl.” He was just saying he wanted to choose a moment of truth, and now he’s lying after only a couple of sentences… Of course, in Han Yi’s view, he wasn’t lying, because when he mentioned “any other girl,” Xu Yiru, Zhao Youzhen, and Madison-Bill were automatically excluded. “You have a magical power that makes everything beautiful, and makes me fall for everything you show me… Isn’t this a perfect example?”

Han Yi raised his index finger and pointed it at the ceiling.

"That suite was absolutely gorgeous. The view of Paris from the terrace was simply unparalleled."

"You made me fall in love with a city without me ever stepping out of the hotel."

"Alright, alright, I already know you haven't stepped out of the hotel at all, no need to keep bringing it up." Barbara smiled, amused. "After we finish this meal, we can go for a walk. Don't worry, the Champs-Élysées and Arc de Triomphe are right next door, and at this time of day, it's full of tourists, so it's very safe."

"I'm afraid... that won't work." Han Yi grinned and replied.

"why?"

"Because Le Cinq's dinner, from appetizers to dessert, will take at least three and a half hours. That's the most optimistic estimate... four hours would be a more reasonable estimate."

“Oh, I almost forgot about that.” Barbara exaggeratedly covered her forehead with her hand and let out a soft sigh. “Oh God… that’s the thing I dislike most about Michelin-starred restaurants.”

"It's delicious and unique, but it takes too long. And each dish is like a scene from a play; you have to wait for them to finish their introductions before you can even pick up your knife and fork."

"Yes," Han Yi nodded, smiling in agreement, "Most importantly, we have to get up early tomorrow, don't we?"

"Get up early?"

"Training, of course." Han Yi said this with unwavering determination and righteous indignation, "I don't want to interrupt my hard-earned fitness plan just because I'm in Paris."

"Wow, Mr. Han, you're actually so well-behaved?" Barbara raised her eyebrows in surprise, her tone slightly teasing.

"Of course I'll remember that, because I want you to see a... better version of me as soon as possible."

“Yi, you need to know this.” Barbara’s teasing expression melted away instantly, replaced by boundless tenderness. She gazed at him, her lake-blue eyes appearing incredibly clear and captivating in the candlelight. “Right now, in my eyes, you are the best. Otherwise, why do you think I would have chosen you so resolutely?”

Han Yi knew the Hungarian girl was telling the truth, because he could clearly see the undisguised affection and determination in her eyes, which softened his heart, which was often weary from carrying too many secrets.

Just as he was about to respond to this affection, two waiters in tailcoats silently slid to the table.

"Sir, Madam, please allow me to serve you your next course," the waiter said in a humble tone.

Two waiters, one for Han Yi and the other for Barbara, moved in perfect unison, placing the silver plates lightly on the plates in front of them.

The head waiter bowed slightly, a well-trained and humble smile on his face, and began his introduction in fluent English with a pleasant French accent:

“I am very honored to present to you one of Mr. Christian Lesquere’s most famous signature dishes: confit lemon with caviar.”

He gently gestured for them to admire the work of art on the plate—a small, translucent, amber-like lemon lying quietly in the center of milky white foam, topped with a small spoonful of glossy caviar.

"Before you are lemons from Menton, which have undergone several days of slow candiing in sugar and brine. This process completely removes the bitterness of the lemons, transforming the peel into a soft and translucent candied fruit that perfectly preserves the purest and most fragrant essence of the citrus."

"It sits atop a layer of potato foam as light and smooth as velvet, infused with the flavor of smoked eel, providing a warm and earthy tone. On top of that, a spoonful of our finest Ohitra caviar offers the perfect balance of salty and savory—a wonderful iodine flavor from the sea."

“Mr. Lescare’s intention,” the waiter concluded, “is to create a perfect harmony between the acidity of the land, the salinity of the sea, and the comforting texture of the potato. We recommend that you take a spoonful of all the elements at once to experience the full explosion of flavor. Enjoy your meal.”

After briefly explaining the exquisite nature of the dishes and confirming that no drinks needed to be added, the waiter bowed again, quietly stepped back, and gave the couple some space.

“Alright, let’s stay home tonight. It’ll be a good opportunity to enjoy our suite a bit more. I just wonder if Paris is still as beautiful at midnight as it is now.” Barbara picked up a small mother-of-pearl spoon and gently scooped up a spoonful of glistening caviar. The previous ambiguous atmosphere was interrupted, and she changed to a lighter topic, “So… is there anywhere you particularly want to go tomorrow? Since this is your first trip to Paris, as your tour guide, I need to know the judge’s preferences.”

"I've been thinking..." Han Yi hesitated for a moment before slowly speaking, "It's really a pity that I couldn't go to Budapest with you this time. I couldn't see the place where you grew up, nor the streets where you ran and played as a child."

As he said this, he raised his eyes and gazed at her tenderly.

“In that case, I want to see the next stage of your life after your childhood. I want to see the place where you became famous, and I want to see the footprints you left here.”

“Barbie…” Han Yi leaned forward slightly and said seriously, “Tomorrow… don’t take me to see the touristy Paris.”

“Take me to see ‘your’ Paris. Show me a typical day in the life of a supermodel in Paris.”

"Okay?"

(End of this chapter)