Chapter 155 I'm willing to work part-time as a cashier for free just to watch you write.

The fervent light in Zhou Yang's eyes was almost frighteningly bright.

He suddenly released the solid wooden support pillar he had been clinging to.

He didn't care about his expensive suit that was already covered in mud; he used both his hands and feet to get up from the ground.

Without even brushing the dust off his knees, Zhou Yang, like a cheetah that had discovered a new continent, dashed towards the front of the stage.

At the front desk, Jiang Ruoyun was holding an account book and fiddling with a wooden abacus, calculating accounts.

A gust of wind swept by.

Zhou Yang squeezed directly into the narrow front desk and, with undeniable force, pushed Jiang Ruoyun aside.

"Hey? What are you doing!"

Jiang Ruoyun stumbled from the jostling, and Zhou Yang snatched the abacus from her hands.

Just as her temper flared up and she was about to explode, Zhou Yang didn't even glance at her.

He gripped the abacus tightly in his hand, his back ramrod straight, and turned around with an air of righteous indignation, staring intently at Lin Mo.

"Boss Lin!"

Zhou Yang's voice was loud and clear, even carrying a hint of resolute determination as if he were facing death.

"It's fine if you don't want to take on apprentices! This old man won't force you!"

He reached out and pointed to Wang Cunzhu, who was still wearing a pink plastic apron and peeking around in the kitchen dishwashing area.

"If Old Wang, a professor at Tsinghua University, can wash dishes, then I can work as a cashier here!"

The diners in the courtyard stopped eating again.

Wang Cunzun also stood frozen at the kitchen doorway, still clutching the dripping sponge in his hand.

Zhou Yang slapped the wooden abacus in his hand so hard it made a loud clattering sound.

"I don't want a single penny of your salary!"

"I won't eat your food; I'll bring you the finest Da Hong Pao tea myself, even if it's just to pay you!"

"My only request is that I be there to watch you write the menu every day!"

The air fell silent again.

Jiang Ruoyun stood to the side, completely dumbfounded.

She glanced at the old man with a flushed face, then at the uncle in the kitchen whose hands were covered in dish soap.

Who are these people?

I want to be a boss lady and part-time waitress, but do I have to compete with these old men?

The autumn wind blew through the courtyard.

Lin Mo took a sip of tea.

His gaze swept calmly over the kitchen.

The head of the Department of Architecture at Tsinghua University was squatting next to a water pipe, meticulously scrubbing a broken porcelain plate covered in grease.

Then turn your head back.

The honorary president of the National Academy of Painting, a master of traditional Chinese painting, was standing in front of his cashier, tightly guarding an old-fashioned abacus, looking ready to fight anyone who dared to snatch it.

Lin Mo put down his teacup.

He looked up at the square patch of blue sky above the courtyard.

A deep sense of powerlessness appeared on his handsome face.

"What a tragedy."

Lin Mo couldn't help but let out a long sigh, his voice filled with despair.

"Is this a restaurant that serves food, or a low-income retirement home for highly skilled workers seeking re-employment?"

……

A few days passed in the blink of an eye.

The bleakness of autumn began to spread through the streets and alleys of Beijing.

But Nanluoguxiang, this remote alley, has become more popular than ever before.

Lin's Restaurant has completely changed.

If the initial attraction was solely due to the recommendation of "Yunzhonglu," which drew in a group of foodies and artsy young people...

Now, this place has become an unattainable cultural pilgrimage site.

The news that "a Tsinghua University professor washes dishes and a master of traditional Chinese painting collects cash" spread like wildfire, becoming a sensation in Beijing's core circles within just a few days.

At first, some people didn't believe it.

Until a few rich kids who liked to show off their refined tastes dared to come and check out the store.

When they finished their meal and went to pay the bill, they saw an old man wearing reading glasses sitting at the front desk.

The old man sipped his tea from his thermos and casually recited a number without even lifting his eyelids.

One of the rich kids recognized the old man and was so frightened that his legs went weak. He stammered, "Grandpa Zhou."

Zhou Yang nodded indifferently and pushed the QR code forward.

"That'll be 280. Alipay or WeChat?"

Once the news spread, the Lin Family Restaurant's prestige soared to new heights.

Now, coming here for a meal is no longer about filling one's stomach, but has become a supreme cultural honor.

Every day before mealtime, the open space outside the alley is filled with luxury cars of all brands.

Rolls-Royce, Bentley, Maybach.

The elderly men walking their birds in the neighborhood no longer dared to approach, fearing that their myna birds might accidentally poop on someone's car hood and they wouldn't be able to afford to pay for it.

The rules in the courtyard also became exceptionally good.

In the past, some people would shout loudly because they couldn't get a spot at one of the twenty tables in the queue.

Now, as soon as they step through that vermilion gate, everyone subconsciously slows their pace and lowers their voices.

They dared not make a loud noise.

After all, what if you eat so loudly that you anger the Tsinghua University professor who is battling a grease slick in the kitchen?

If you dare to haggle when you pay the bill, a master painter might just casually draw a circle on your bill and then put it up for auction.

In the small restaurant.

Lin Mo maintained his unwavering, Zen-like pace.

They open the shop on time every day and leisurely cook dishes for twenty tables.

Then, wash your hands, brew a pot of hot tea, and lie down in the specially made bamboo rocking chair in the corner of the yard to bask in the sun.

Jiang Ruoyun completely regarded this place as her home.

The young lady runs into the alley every day, no longer sleeps in the luxurious bed at home, and complains that the food made by the Michelin chef is terrible.

Every morning, she would appear at the entrance of the small restaurant on time, wrapped in a thick beige coat and carrying two cups of hot milk tea.

She wasn't much of a help; her main job was peeling garlic or sneaking a couple while Lin Mo was frying meatballs.

Lin Mo tapped the back of her hand with chopsticks, and she wrinkled her nose and brought her greasy lips closer.

Lin Mo could only sigh helplessly and use a tissue to wipe her clean.

Zhou Yang sat at the front desk, watching this scene, snorted coldly, and continued to work on his abacus.

Wang Cunzun peeked out from the kitchen, adjusted his glasses, and then silently retreated back to continue washing dishes.

The warmth of everyday life in the courtyard, accompanied by the early winter sun, was delightful.

……

At this time.

The scene shifts to the wealthy district of Beijing, to the Jiang family mansion.

The spacious, luxurious living room, with its nearly ten-meter-high ceiling, felt cold and deserted.

The crystal chandelier emitted a somewhat dazzling light.

The air was filled with the scent of top-quality imported fragrances, but there was not a trace of human presence.

Jiang Jianguo, the richest man in Beijing, is sitting alone on an expensive leather sofa.

On the long mahogany dining table in front of me, there was a dinner meticulously prepared by a Michelin-starred chef.

Truffle Wagyu beef, steamed egg with caviar, and French-style baked snails.

Each dish is as exquisite as a work of art.

But Jiang Jianguo didn't even have the desire to pick up a fork.

Song Wan went to another city to attend a history seminar a couple of days ago, and her return date is uncertain.

As for his beloved daughter Jiang Ruoyun...

Jiang Jianguo picked up his phone from the sofa armrest and swiped the screen impatiently.

As soon as I opened the social media app, a screen full of trending topics popped up.

Shocking! Renowned painter Zhou Yang is working as a cashier in Nanluoguxiang!

Today's menu at Lin's Restaurant features Lin Shen's own calligraphy in the "Slender Gold" style, captivating countless scholars.

"A chance encounter with Beijing's most sought-after young lady! She looked so sweet peeling garlic in that run-down restaurant!"

Jiang Jianguo's finger stopped on the post with a photo of his daughter.

The photo is blurry, but you can still clearly see that Jiang Ruoyun is wearing an ordinary apron and holding a clove of garlic in her hand.

Beside her, that brat named Lin Mo was wiping her sweat with a tissue.

The girl's eyes were full of undisguised smiles and dependence.

"Click".

Jiang Jianguo stopped fiddling with the walnuts in his hand, making a dull rubbing sound.

He felt his blood pressure rising at an alarming rate.

He's a billionaire with assets exceeding 100 billion!

Head of the Jiang family!

Now he's become a lonely, left-behind elderly man who can't even see his wife and children!

The house was so quiet that there was no one to talk to.

In that dilapidated alley, not only did two old geezers gather, but they were also putting on a show of supernatural tricks.

Even his own daughter goes to work as a free maid for others every day!

A strong sour feeling, mixed with resentment and anger, exploded completely in Jiang Jianguo's chest.

When jealousy overturns, reason is also overwhelmed.

Jiang Jianguo suddenly stood up, his chest heaving violently.

He glanced at the elaborate but impractical dishes on the table, and his stomach churned.

Jiang Jianguo paced back and forth in the living room, his leather shoes making a dull thud on the carpet.

"It's fake, it's all a shill!"

He suddenly waved his hand, and the two century-old walnuts in his hand flew out.

With a crisp "smack," the walnut hit the marble wall and shattered into several pieces.

"What skills could a young man in his early twenties possibly have besides being fair-skinned?"

"What kind of amazing dishes can he make? And still get Old Zhou and Old Wang to do his dishes and work as cashiers?"

"A publicity stunt! Absolutely a low-quality influencer publicity stunt!"

Jiang Jianguo became increasingly angry as he spoke, and his eyes turned red.

He stopped and turned to look at the early winter night outside the window, his eyes revealing a ruthlessness unique to the richest man.

"I'm going to expose this scam myself today!"

"I'm going to tear off this brat's disguise right in front of Ruoyun!"

As he spoke, Jiang Jianguo strode across the living room and headed straight for his private walk-in closet at the far end of the first floor.

Push open the door.

He didn't look at the neatly hung custom-made suits and trench coats.

Instead, he went straight to the deepest part of the wardrobe.

He bent down and pulled open the mysterious, locked drawer at the very bottom.