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

In the store.

After eating and drinking his fill, Qin Lang leaned back in his chair, looking completely at ease.

He took out his phone and took a picture of the empty bowls on the table and the picturesque Jiangnan garden landscape in the background.

Then, accompanied by an extremely arrogant caption, it was posted to WeChat Moments:

[Location: Lin's Shop on Phoenix Golden Street. The hot pot restaurant next door is giving away eggs with great fanfare, but nothing compares to a single sip of broth from Boss Lin's bowl of noodles.]

Friendly reminder: Get in line quickly if you want to come, as these seats may soon be charged by the second.

This post on WeChat Moments went viral instantly.

Who are the people in Qin Lang's circle of friends?

Those were all rich second-generation heirs, internet celebrities, and business tycoons from Jiangcheng.

These people are used to eating delicacies and look down on ordinary restaurants.

But who is Qin Lang? He's notoriously picky about food!

For someone to praise a store so highly, even to the point of belittling other stores, they must be a god-like figure!

"Holy crap? Where is Young Master Qin? This place looks pretty high-class!"

"Lin's Shop? Is that the trendy shop that sells '666' steamed buns? Did they move to a new location?"

"Looking at this... I'm hungry."

"Let's go! Young Master Qin is here, it can't be wrong! Will we still be able to get a spot if we go now?"

In less than ten minutes, the post received over a hundred likes, and the comment section was bustling with activity.

Zhao Tianyi, Shen Man, and others also forwarded it. Even the usually composed Professor Liu actually liked it and commented, "This dish should only exist in heaven. The old man will be there this afternoon."

The collective endorsement by this wave of top-tier wealthy second-generation individuals has created a terrifying viral effect.

What started as a queue of diners near the university town has now stirred up half of the wealthy second-generation circles in Jiangcheng!

Countless luxury cars drove out from every corner of the city, all with one destination—Phoenix Golden Street, the small shop behind the transformer box!

……

As the sun sets, the neon signs on Phoenix Golden Street begin to light up one by one.

This busiest commercial street around the university town of Jiangcheng is currently experiencing its busiest evening rush hour.

However, for the merchants and passersby along the street, today's scene was too surreal, even defying common sense.

The prime corner shop, a three-story building with a glittering "Dawei Hotpot Flagship Store" sign, now resembles a dead grave.

The red inflatable archway at the entrance, which cost 20,000 yuan to build, was leaking air and drooping crookedly because no one had taken care of it all day. It looked like a giant whose spine had been broken.

The two rows of flower baskets congratulating the opening were already wilted and drooping under the scorching sun, with petals scattered all over the ground. When the wind blew, they looked particularly desolate.

The hot pot restaurant, which should have been bustling with activity, was eerily quiet at the moment.

Seventy or eighty tables were neatly arranged, and the butter at the bottom of the pot had long since solidified into a thick, greasy layer of white grease.

The twenty-odd hostesses, dressed in high-slit cheongsams and originally intended to make a grand entrance, were now sprawled out in the waiting area by the entrance.

Some were playing on their phones, some were touching up their makeup, and two people were so bored that they actually got together to play Honor of Kings. The sound effects of the kills echoed in the empty hall, sounding particularly jarring.

But right next door, in this deathly silence, separated by only a wall, was a completely different scene, one that could be described as a “riot.”

"Don't push! Who the hell stepped on my Air Jordans?!"

"Hey you in the back, don't push! If you push again, I'll call the police!"

"Boss! Do you have any noodles left? I've been waiting in line for three hours! If you don't, I'll kill myself!"

The narrow entrance to "Lin's Shop," which was blocked by a huge transformer box, was now more than just a queue; it was practically a siege.

The queue snaked its way from behind the transformer box, across the spacious and impressive facade of "Dawei Hot Pot," and all the way to the intersection of Jin Street. It was estimated that at least a hundred people were waiting for a table.

Among them were wealthy second-generation individuals driving Porsches and Maseratis, as well as elderly people wearing flip-flops, and even a few financial elites who had just finished get off work and hadn't had time to change out of their suits.

At this moment, these people, who are usually from very different social classes, have no choice but to lower themselves and shiver in the evening breeze while holding their number plates for that legendary "supreme clear soup".

In fact, because there were so many people queuing up, scalpers once again sprang into action.

The scalper "Rat," who was chased away by Lin Fan at the night market before, is back again today.

However, this time he learned his lesson and dared not directly resell the food from Lin Fan's shop. Instead, he started doing "queueing on behalf of others" and "selling seats".

"Top ten spots! Anyone want them? Five hundred each!"

"One number available to enter the store immediately! Only one available! 1000 yuan! No bargaining!"

Right under the luxurious crystal chandelier of "Dawei Hot Pot", Haozi was openly auctioning off a numbered ticket, and there was a constant stream of buyers.

"I want it! I'll pay 1200!"

"Fifteen thousand! Give it to me!"

For Zhang Dawei, who was sitting behind the cashier at the hot pot restaurant, this scene was worse than death.

Zhang Dawei gripped the now-cold teacup tightly in his hand, his knuckles turning white from the force.

He stared intently at the "crazy people" at the door who would rather spend a thousand yuan to buy a queue number than come into his shop for a half-price hot pot.

"This is a bunch of lunatics... They're all fucking lunatics!"

Zhang Dawei cursed through gritted teeth, his voice hoarse and distorted with extreme anger and jealousy.

He invested five million yuan in this store.

That was the capital he raised by mortgaging his house in his hometown and borrowing money at high interest rates.

He originally hoped to become an overnight sensation with this flagship store, recoup his investment in three months, go public in six months, and reach the pinnacle of his life.

But now?

On the first day of business, we couldn't even cover the cost of utilities, let alone break even!

The customers who passed by his shop without even glancing at him before heading into the "coffin shop" next door were like resounding slaps to his face, shattering his dignity and his dreams.

"Boss... um, the head chef in the kitchen asked what to do with all that tripe and beef aorta that we've prepared? It's hot, and they'll go bad if we don't eat them soon."

A waiter who looked like a supervisor cautiously approached and asked in a low voice.

"Eat, eat, eat! All you ever do is eat!"

Zhang Dawei suddenly slammed the teacup in his hand to the ground with a loud "bang," shards of porcelain scattering everywhere and tea spilling all over the floor.

"If it's spoiled, just throw it away! Do you expect me to eat it myself?!"

The waiter trembled with fear and quickly retreated.

Zhang Dawei's chest heaved violently as he gasped for breath.

He felt like his heart was about to explode.