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

Zhao Chengming laughed in anger. These people were all high and mighty in every restaurant in Jiangcheng, yet now they were saying such things over a private room?

"Old Zhao, we're all acquaintances, so I'll be frank. We used to really love your Shuweitang's beef tallow hot pot base, it was really flavorful!"

Mr. Qian pointed to the bronze pot in front of him, his tone unusually confident.

"But if I may offend you, after eating the meat from this restaurant, just thinking about the taste of your beef tallow hotpot makes my throat feel sore and I can't swallow it!"

"Sore throat?" Zhao Chengming's eyebrows twitched violently, as if he had been greatly insulted. "Chairman Qian, my Zhao family has been in the catering business for over a hundred years. A pot of boiled water with two slices of ginger, and you call that delicious?"

Mr. Qian waved his hand. "Old Zhao, it was wrong of me to cancel your private room yesterday. But this mutton is amazing! Don't be fooled by the fact that it's just boiled in water; it's truly authentic and flavorful, so delicious you'll want to swallow your tongue!"

Zhao Chengming laughed angrily: "Boiled mutton in plain water has no gamey smell? You actually believe that kind of ridiculous gimmick? If this meat wasn't soaked in some high-tech chemical to remove the gamey smell, I, Zhao Chengming, will swallow this entire copper pot whole!"

Upon hearing this, the previously quiet hall fell completely silent.

Several tables of diners stopped eating and turned to look at them, their eyes filled with disbelief.

Li Dayong's smile faded, and he looked at Zhao Chengming, his tone becoming serious:

"Old Zhao, you can eat anything, but you can't say anything. You're an expert, can't you tell if this meat has been treated with chemicals? Can't you even smell it?"

As Li Dayong spoke, he used a slotted spoon to scoop a few slices of freshly cooked, slightly curled mutton from the pot and handed them to Zhao Chengming.

"Come here, smell it. Does it smell like medicine at all? Does it smell like mutton at all?"

The steam from the mutton, mixed with its pure aroma, rushed directly into Zhao Chengming's nostrils.

The impact at close range was ten times more intense than at the door!

Zhao Chengming's facial muscles twitched violently and uncontrollably.

As a seasoned expert who had spent his entire life working with the stove, at this moment, his keen senses were frantically conveying a terrifying truth to him.

This is no ordinary sheep!

The slices of meat were cut extremely thin, with clearly defined textures.

The fat, white as solidified cream, intertwined with the pinkish-white lean meat, the meat fibers soaked up the clear broth. The surface gleamed with an extremely natural sheen, the fibers intact and not dry.

This is the pinnacle that can only be achieved with the freshest, top-quality lamb, processed with the most perfect slaughtering and aging techniques!

What's even more terrifying is that he couldn't recognize the breed of the mutton! The purity of this meat was simply beyond reason!

"How is this possible..." Zhao Chengming subconsciously took a step back.

"You can smell it, can't you?" Li Dayong put away the strainer, swallowed the mutton in one gulp, and smacked his lips with lingering satisfaction.

"Old Zhao, it's not that hard to admit that others are excellent. You've been in the catering industry your whole life, you should understand the value of this pot better than us."

"You..." Zhao Chengming's eyes widened, and he clenched his fists tightly.

"What's wrong? Is there anything wrong with the food?" A clear and calm voice suddenly came from the side.

Zhao Chengming turned around and saw a young man wearing a clean white shirt and a black apron around his waist walk out.

He was holding a rectangular wooden tray with three plates of finely sliced ​​lamb rolls neatly arranged on it.

The young man looked very energetic, with bright eyes and quick, decisive movements.

This must be Lin Fan, the owner of "Lin's Shop".

"No, no, Mr. Lin has misunderstood!" As soon as Mr. Qian saw the visitor, he quickly put down the strainer in his hand and immediately put on a polite and even slightly ingratiating smile.

He pointed at Zhao Chengming and explained loudly, "This is my friend, Lao Zhao, who is also the owner of the famous 'Shuweitang' restaurant in Jiangcheng."

Chairman Chen, who was standing next to him, quickly chimed in to smooth things over: "Yes, Boss Lin, Lao Zhao is a well-known figure in Jiangcheng's catering industry. Today, he has been thoroughly taught a lesson by your pot of boiled mutton."

Lin Fan listened, but his expression remained calm. He walked to the table and placed the three plates of mutton on the wooden table.

"Enjoy your meal. There are still some orders in the kitchen, so I won't disturb you any longer."

After saying that, Lin Fan turned around, lifted the curtain, and walked back to the kitchen without uttering a single extra word of politeness. He didn't glance at Zhao Chengming even once during the entire process.

The lobby was filled with steam.

Zhao Chengming stood frozen in place, his face turning pale and then flushed, his chest heaving violently.

Ignore it! Utterly ignore it!

Having worked his way up in the catering industry in Jiangcheng for so many years, he was always treated with utmost respect in every restaurant he visited.

I came to this run-down little restaurant on this snowy day, and some young punk completely ignored me!

"Old Zhao, stop standing there in a daze." Boss Qian picked up a piece of meat with his chopsticks and threw it into the boiling copper pot, saying without looking up.

"Why don't you hurry up and order a pot for yourself, or there won't even be any soup left?"

Upon hearing this, Zhao Chengming suddenly came to his senses.

He glanced down at the queue sign he was holding, which cost him ten thousand yuan, and felt as if it were a red-hot iron, burning his face with embarrassment.

Still want to eat? Eat my ass!

After being treated so disrespectfully, how could the owner of Shuweitang possibly have any appetite for a pot of awful boiled mutton?!

"Mr. Zhao..." Old Xu, seeing the boss's murderous expression, cautiously approached and whispered, "Our number has arrived. Do you want to order or not...?"

"What are you ordering! Don't you think I'm embarrassing enough already?!"

Zhao Chengming suddenly raised his voice and slammed the wooden number plate in his hand heavily onto the empty table next to him with a "bang".

He glanced coldly at Li Dayong and the others who were eating with great enthusiasm, and sneered through gritted teeth:

"Mr. Li, Chairman Chen, you all have excellent appetites! Please enjoy your meal! I, Zhao, have a small appetite and cannot appreciate this!"

After saying that, Zhao Chengming abruptly flicked his coat sleeve and turned to leave.

"Old Xu, let's go! I want to see how long his shabby shop can fool people with just a few drops of flavor enhancer!"

Zhao Chengming flung open the heavy windproof cotton curtain and plunged into the wind and snow outside without looking back, leaving the diners at the tables in the lobby staring at each other in bewilderment.

Li Dayong scooped a piece of mutton from the pot, glanced at the swaying curtain, and curled his lip in disdain:

"He's stubborn as a mule. Old Chen, ignore him, hurry up and cut the meat; this plate of mutton is mine!"

……