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

The moment Chairman Chen uttered those words, the air seemed to freeze.

The hall was eerily quiet, with only seven or eight cloisonné copper pots still tirelessly bubbling and steaming.

"No... Old Chen, Dayong..."

Mr. Huang, who was sitting at the next table, finally couldn't hold back any longer. He was still holding the pair of ivory chopsticks stained with the golden soup, and he turned his head with an incredulous look on his face:

"I've heard of that restaurant before. Isn't it the one that opened where the spicy hot pot restaurant used to be on Jin Street?"

"I heard that the owner used to be a street vendor at the night market!"

"Can his pot of plain water really be better than Old Zhao's golden broth, which he simmered for three days and three nights with tons of delicacies? That's ridiculous!"

"That's right!" Mr. Liu, the director of the Chemical Industry Bureau, also put down his bowl, his brow furrowed, his face full of suspicion.

"Old Zhao, I'm truly impressed by this soup. I also ate that mutton earlier, and it was absolutely top-notch! Dayong, you guys have been raving about that roadside stall like it's some kind of miracle, what's the deal with that?"

Mr. Liu pointed to the pot, "Lamb has a strong gamey smell. If you just boil it in water without any seasoning, how can anyone swallow that stuff?"

The other large investors from the High-tech Zone and Mr. Wang from the building materials company, among others, also put down their chopsticks, their eyes darting back and forth between Li Dayong, Chairman Chen, and Zhao Chengming, their expressions filled with shock and incomprehension.

They had just tasted this "premium golden broth" themselves; the luxurious umami flavor that pushed their taste buds to the limit was absolutely exquisite.

They believed that anyone could easily outshine Zhao Chengming in a sip of soup; but they would never believe that a pot of plain water could completely destroy this golden soup!

Upon hearing the questions raised by General Manager Huang and General Manager Liu, Zhao Chengming, who had been ashen-faced, seemed to come alive!

"Listen to this! Listen to this!"

"General Manager Huang and General Manager Liu are the fair ones! Li Dayong, Chairman Chen, how could the heritage of my century-old store possibly lose to a newly opened store?!"

"What makes him so special?! Just because he knows how to create artificial scarcity? Just because he's good at brainwashing?!"

"Let me tell you, there's definitely something fishy about that pot of water! Either they added chemical deodorizers, or they put something shady in it! You've all been fooled!"

Faced with Zhao Chengming's hysterical counterattack and the skeptical gazes of the business tycoons filling the hall.

Li Dayong sneered.

"Marketing? Brainwashing?"

Li Dayong took a cigar out of his pocket, brought it to his nose, and sniffed it.

"Old Huang, Old Liu, we've known each other for over ten years. Do you really think I, Li Dayong, am the kind of person who would fall for a roadside vendor's marketing tricks for a pittance?"

He pointed to Chairman Chen, who stood calmly to the side: "Or do you guys think that an old fox like Old Chen, whose shrewdness is ingrained in his bones, can be brainwashed by a mere young upstart?"

Mr. Huang and Mr. Liu were taken aback by the question. They opened their mouths, but couldn't utter a single word in rebuttal.

Yes! Li Dayong is a mining tycoon worth billions, and Chairman Chen is a real estate giant in Jiangcheng. What storms haven't these two weathered? Who can brainwash them?

"Since we've all come this far, I'll give you a heads-up."

Li Dayong leaned forward slightly, looking at Zhao Chengming with an almost condescending posture. His voice wasn't loud, but it resonated throughout the quiet hall:

"Old Zhao, do you really think that throwing all those spices and ingredients from your freezer into a pot, simmering for three days and three nights, and that's what you call 'top-notch' food?"

Li Dayong sneered mercilessly, looking at Zhao Chengming as if he were a pathetic frog in a well.

"Let me tell you, you're nowhere near as good! Your soup isn't even worthy of carrying Boss Lin's clear broth pot!"

Zhao Chengming's pupils contracted sharply, and he was about to retort, but Li Dayong's raised voice forcefully suppressed him:

"You still don't understand what we're all pursuing! Do you think we're here to show off?"

"You're going to great lengths here to use all sorts of thick broths and strong spices to cover up and blend the meat, as if you're afraid you won't be able to suppress the slight gamey smell in it."

"But Boss Lin wouldn't stoop to using these random ingredients."

"With just a pot of the cleanest boiled water, they can bring out the sweetness of the mutton to a level you could never reach in this life or the next!"

Li Dayong glanced at the bubbling golden broth in the pot, his eyes filled with disdain:

"Even if you master the art of cooking, you'll only ever be a craftsman who knows how to pile on ingredients."

"Boss Lin is a master at turning the impossible into the possible! What makes you think you can compare to him?!"

Upon hearing this, the surroundings fell into a deathly silence.

These words were like a boning knife, slicing Zhao Chengming's confidence, built up over thirty years of culinary experience, to pieces.

"No...it's impossible..." Zhao Chengming took a half step back in disbelief, his lips trembling violently. "White water...how could this be..."

"Old Zhao, stop struggling. You've never tasted it, so your understanding will only stay at this level."

Chairman Chen, who hadn't said much until now, gently tapped the table: "Old Huang, Old Liu, you just asked how to swallow boiled mutton?"

Looking at the incredulous faces of the crowd, Chairman Chen's tone became incredibly slow and solemn:

"What they brought out was indeed just a very ordinary copper pot, filled with crystal-clear water, without even a piece of ginger or a piece of scallion."

"But!"

Chairman Chen's eyes suddenly lit up, and his voice was filled with barely suppressed excitement:

"The moment that piece of mutton was rinsed in plain water and stuffed into my mouth... all the seasonings, all the broth, all the cooking techniques—it all became superfluous garbage!"

"It was an ethereal, almost otherworldly sweetness!"

"There's not a trace of muttony smell, only the purest grass and milk aroma from the vast grasslands, warming you all the way down your throat and into your very core!"

"After taking one bite, I felt like all the so-called delicacies I've eaten in my life were just a bunch of tacky seasoning scraps!"

The vast banquet hall of Shu Han Pavilion was deathly silent.

All the big bosses were stunned, their minds echoing with Chairman Chen's words, "a sweetness so ethereal it's almost otherworldly."

Mr. Huang sat blankly in his chair, looking down at the "premium golden soup" in his bowl that had once been incredibly delicious but now appeared somewhat cloudy and greasy under the white light.

Just ten minutes ago, he thought it was the most delicious food in the world, and he wished he could swallow his tongue.

But now, after listening to Chairman Chen's enlightening description, he suddenly felt a lingering greasiness and dryness in his throat.

It took Mr. Huang quite a while to finally gasp and come to his senses.

He was still clutching the ivory chopsticks in his hand, his fat cheeks twitched violently twice, and he asked dryly: