After the divorce, he took care of his child and sold fried rice; his ex-wife was filled with regret

Zhao Chengming shook his head, his eyes full of disdain.

"Using such underhanded tactics to create a gimmick of a clear soup."

"These bosses are used to eating delicacies, and they were fooled by this abnormal method, thinking they were eating some kind of rare and delicious meat. They were completely played for fools."

Old Xu tentatively asked, "Mr. Zhao, what should we do? They've snatched away all our big clients on the third floor. This isn't just affecting our revenue, it's also damaging Shuweitang's reputation in Jiangcheng."

"Should I get a few reliable brothers to check out that restaurant tomorrow, order a pot of meat, and take the opportunity to make a scene? If we make a big fuss, their reputation will be ruined."

Zhao Chengming waved his hand, directly rejecting the suggestion.

"We run our business on real skills. Using such underhanded tactics to harm our competitors is disgraceful. The Zhao family can't afford to lose face like that."

"Alright, don't worry about it." Zhao Chengming waved his hand, his tone revealing indifference.

He picked up his teacup, blew on it to cool it, and continued:

"Mr. Li and his group are just going there for the novelty. Once they've tasted it for a while and figured it out, they'll definitely come back to us obediently."

Zhao Chengming glanced at the clock on the wall. The wind was still blowing outside.

"Alright, pack up and get ready to close." He turned his gaze away and called out to Dazhu, who was wiping the table.

……

Three days passed in the blink of an eye.

The first and second floors of Shuweitang were still bustling with activity and steam. But the corridor on the third floor was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

Zhao Chengming sat in his office, looking at the transaction record that had just been delivered to him, his brows finally furrowing into a deep knot.

Old Xu stood in front of his desk, barely daring to breathe.

"Old Xu, explain this to me." Zhao Chengming pointed to the summary data on the report, his voice deep. "The first and second floors are packed every day, with people still queuing outside. Why is the total revenue getting worse every day? Today's turnover is almost 40% lower than the same period last week!"

Old Xu wiped the cold sweat from his forehead and said cautiously with his head down, "Mr. Zhao, the revenue from individual customers hasn't decreased; in fact, it's even increased a bit because of the snow. The drop is entirely due to the shortfall in revenue from the private rooms on the third floor."

"A shortage of private rooms?" Zhao Chengming's eyes turned cold. "The end of the year is the peak time for business owners to host banquets. How could there be a shortage of private rooms? Where are the regular customers?"

"It's empty." Old Xu swallowed, his voice a little dry. "For the past three days, more than half of the private rooms on the third floor have been empty. Li Dayong didn't come back, and neither did Chairman Chen. Not only did they not come back, but yesterday, General Manager Wang, who had asked someone to book a private room on the third floor for a dinner party, also called this afternoon to cancel the reservation."

Zhao Chengming slammed the list heavily on the table: "Where did it go? Don't tell me those big bosses all went vegetarian."

Old Xu's legs were cramping a bit, and he said in a low voice, "Mr. Zhao, I inquired privately... Mr. Wang and the others also went to that store on Jin Street."

"And..." Old Xu swallowed again, seemingly hesitant to speak.

"And what? Get to the point." Zhao Chengming gave him a cold look.

"Moreover, Mr. Li and his group not only went to eat themselves, but also brought all their friends in the business circle along."

"I heard from Mr. Li's driver that Mr. Li said at the dinner that after eating the clear broth mutton at that restaurant, now whenever he smells the heavy oil and spicy beef tallow... he feels like his throat is burning and he can't swallow."

"Bang!"

Zhao Chengming suddenly stood up, causing the mahogany and leather chair behind him to make a dull thud.

"It'll hurt your throat?" Zhao Chengming's eyes twitched violently twice.

The century-old broth, brewed by four generations of the Zhao family, relies on its rich and powerful buttery aroma. Now, it's being described as "thickening to the throat"!

Zhao Chengming took a deep breath and forcefully suppressed the anger in his heart.

"It'll hurt your throat?" Zhao Chengming's eyes twitched violently twice.

"Fine, what a terrible rubbish." He laughed angrily, crumpled the bill in his hand into a ball, and slammed it into the trash can.

He took a deep breath, placed his hands on the desk, stared intently at Old Xu in front of him, and coldly asked, barely suppressing his anger, "What's the name of that shop?"

Old Xu swallowed hard, feeling a chill run down his spine from the boss's murderous gaze. He stammered, "It's called... it's called Lin's Shop..."

"Lin's Shop?"

Zhao Chengming frowned slightly, and the anger on his face paused briefly.

This name sounds familiar...

He stood there for a while, thinking. He had been in the catering industry in Jiangcheng for over thirty years, and he could name every single one of his well-known colleagues in the area, whether they were Sichuan or Chongqing hot pot restaurants or Northern-style copper pot hot pot restaurants, with his eyes closed.

I racked my brain trying to recall places like Lao Zhang's Nine-Square Hot Pot and Fatty Chen's Fresh Beef Offal, but I couldn't remember any guy with the surname Lin who owned any amazing hot pot restaurant.

It's probably some kind of unorthodox, backstreet-smart trick that popped up out of nowhere.

Unable to figure it out, Zhao Chengming simply waved his hand impatiently, too lazy to investigate further.

"Prepare the car." He uttered the two words coldly and grabbed the coat from the hanger.

Old Xu was taken aback: "Mr. Zhao, where are you going in this heavy snow?"

"Let's go to Jin Street!" Zhao Chengming said as he put on his clothes and strode out.

"I'm going to see for myself what kind of magical mutton this is. I, Zhao Chengming, have spent half my life in the catering industry, and I refuse to believe that there really is such a thing as mutton soup with a clear broth that can be completely free of the gamey smell without any technology!"

Old Xu didn't dare to say anything more, knowing that his boss was really angry, so he quickly jogged over to get the car.

……

Half an hour later.

A black Mercedes stopped at the intersection of Jin Street.

The snow was falling heavily outside, and the wind felt like knives on my face. Jin Street, an old street, is usually deserted at night, let alone in this kind of terrible weather.

But when Zhao Chengming and Lao Xu braved the wind and snow to reach the corner at the end of the street, they both stopped in their tracks.

There was a long queue outside a small restaurant not far ahead!

Old Xu rubbed his eyes hard, thinking he was seeing things because of the wind and snow: "Mr. Zhao, am I seeing things? In this lousy place, in this awful weather, how come there are so many people queuing up?"

Zhao Chengming remained silent, his brows furrowed tightly. In the sub-zero temperatures, dozens of people huddled in the biting wind, shivering from the cold, yet the group stood motionless, not a single person leaving.

"Let's go, let's go take a look." Zhao Chengming said with a stern face, stepping towards the crowd.

As the two took a few steps closer, Zhao Chengming's expression suddenly changed under the dim light of the streetlamp.

In the middle of the group, a middle-aged man wearing an expensive mink coat was shrugging his neck and stamping his feet back and forth, and he looked very familiar.

"Mr. Zhao, that's...Mr. Wang?" Old Xu, with his sharp eyes, exclaimed in surprise.