Chapter 156 The Metamorphosis of the Richest Man: Goal: To bankrupt that brat!

A dozen minutes later.

The back door of the Jiang family mansion, which was rarely used, was quietly pushed open a crack.

A slightly hunched dark figure peeked out like a thief, looking around furtively.

After confirming that there were no security personnel patrolling the area, the figure quickly slipped out and disappeared into the dim light of the sky.

Jiang Jianguo stood in the shadows by the wall, pulling his large, worn-out military overcoat tighter around his neck.

The cuffs were worn through in several places, and the stiff, old cotton wadding inside was sticking out unceremoniously.

On his head was a gray, chunky knitted hat covered in countless fuzz balls.

To avoid being recognized, he pulled his hat brim down so low that it almost covered most of his broad forehead.

A pair of black-rimmed reading glasses, which he had somehow acquired, sat on the bridge of his nose.

The inferior resin lenses were covered in tiny scratches, perfectly concealing his sharp, decisive gaze that he usually displayed in the business world.

At this moment, the richest man in Beijing no longer bears any trace of his former wealth and arrogance.

He was exactly like an old man living deep in a hutong courtyard, struggling financially yet stubborn.

He hunched over and tiptoed along the edge of the green belt surrounding the villa area.

He walked for a full two kilometers, completely leaving the area of ​​the upscale villa district, before daring to stop by the roadside.

Jiang Jianguo reached out and flagged down the oldest-looking taxi.

"Driver, to Nanluoguxiang."

He opened the car door and sat in the back seat, deliberately lowering his voice to make it sound hoarse and weathered.

The driver glanced at him through the rearview mirror and shook his head at his shabby attire.

"Sir, there are so many cars over there now that you can't even get into the alley. You have to walk in."

Jiang Jianguo sniffed his nose, which was sore from the cold, leaned back in the old chair, and said with a smirk.

"I'm going to eat. I heard there's a restaurant there that's become quite famous lately, something like Lin's."

Upon hearing this, the driver immediately chuckled and struck up a conversation while turning the steering wheel.

"Oh, you mean Lin's Restaurant? That place is now the hardest to get into in the capital."

"The boss is a meticulous person; he only cooks about twenty dishes a day."

"Many wealthy business owners are lining up with cash in hand, and they don't even glance at them. If you go at this time, there are probably no more numbers available."

Jiang Jianguo rolled his eyes dramatically in the dimly lit carriage.

Are the rules too strict?

That's all a lie to you naive, unsophisticated people!

He's been in the business world for decades; what kind of scarcity marketing and hype tactics hasn't he seen?

He was going to go see for himself today what tricks that brat who only knew how to sweet-talk his wife and daughter could pull.

"I refuse to believe this nonsense," Jiang Jianguo muttered. "I, Old Wang, am determined to try it today. They can't possibly turn away their customers, can they?"

The taxi drove for more than half an hour in the cold wind.

Finally, at the entrance of the alley in Nanluoguxiang, I slowly stepped on the brakes.

Jiang Jianguo paid the fare of a dozen yuan and opened the car door.

A biting winter wind instantly swept into my collar.

He instinctively shrank his neck and tucked his hands tightly into the two bottomless pockets of his military overcoat.

He had only taken two steps forward when he froze on the spot.

The narrow alleyway entrance was completely blocked by parked vehicles.

What shocked him even more was that none of these cars were cheap.

An extended Maybach, a pure black Rolls-Royce Phantom, and even several specially made Hongqi sedans with consecutive license plates.

Rows of luxury cars were parked quietly under the dim streetlights, their gleaming paint reflecting a cold, eerie light.

The old men who usually enjoy walking their birds and playing chess are all keeping their distance now, afraid that their myna birds might accidentally poop on the car hood and ruin their savings.

Jiang Jianguo pushed up his old glasses, which were covered in scratches, and squinted to examine them carefully.

He was surprised to spot the private cars of several of his long-time business rivals in the traffic.

"Good heavens..."

Jiang Jianguo gritted his teeth, exhaled a puff of white breath from his nostrils, and snorted coldly.

"Hiring so many cars as shills, this kid's really going all out."

He firmly believed that all of this was a false prosperity created by Lin Mo to inflate his own value.

How much culinary skill could a young man in his early twenties possibly have, even if he started learning to flip a wok from the womb?

What could possibly make these usually arrogant and powerful figures in Beijing willingly squeeze into this dilapidated alley and queue up?

This is absolutely terrible marketing!

Jiang Jianguo became even more determined to expose the counterfeit goods that night.

He strode forward, stepping on the withered yellow leaves on the ground, and walked briskly into the depths of the alley.

From afar, you could see a large, dark crowd gathered outside the imposing vermilion gate of Lin's Restaurant.

There were young people taking photos with their phones and flash, as well as well-dressed artists.

Jiang Jianguo took a deep breath and quickly got into his disguised role.

He hunched his broad back, letting his shoulders slump down, to appear frail and weak.

He was like a slippery eel, plunging headfirst into the crowded throng.

"Excuse me, please make way, don't push along these old folks..."

He shouted in a hoarse, trembling voice while subtly pushing his shoulders to the sides.

"Ouch, sir, slow down, don't fall." A young girl quickly stepped aside to let him pass.

Jiang Jianguo completely ignored him.

He relied on his current appearance as a poor old man, confident that these self-important intellectuals would never dare to argue with an "old man" like him.

He charged headlong into the crowd, squeezing his way from the very back to the bottom of the stone steps at the front of the gate.

On the door frame of Lin's Restaurant, there is an inconspicuous small black wooden board hanging neatly.

The top is written with several elegant and graceful characters in the thin gold script style, written in white chalk.

"We are full for today and cannot accommodate you."

Jiang Jianguo glanced at those words and felt a surge of disdain in his heart.

What's the use of having beautiful handwriting? A restaurant's reputation ultimately comes down to the taste of the food you eat.

He completely ignored the prominent slogan.

He lifted his foot, clad in old cloth shoes, and stepped directly over the high solid wood threshold.

As soon as the courtyard gate was pushed open, a wave of warm, spring-like heat, mixed with an incredible fragrance, rushed towards us.

That's the rich, savory flavor of an old hen simmered for hours, mixed with a touch of the unique sweetness of winter bamboo shoots.

It's so fragrant that just one whiff makes your mouth water uncontrollably.

Jiang Jianguo's stomach, quite uncooperatively, let out a muffled rumble.

He quickly pressed his hand firmly against his stomach, silently warning himself.

Hold on!

This is all the flavor created by mixing technology with ruthless skill!

"Hey, sir, we're closed for today."

A slightly tired voice suddenly came from the side.

Wang Cunzhen wore his signature pink plastic apron around his waist and held an old-fashioned bamboo broom in his hand.

He was carefully sweeping up some wood chips and dead leaves scattered on the ground.

Hearing the noise at the door, Wang Cunxin straightened up, pushed up his thick-rimmed glasses, and looked at the uninvited guest with a puzzled expression.

Upon seeing this, Wang Cunzhuan was stunned for a moment.

The old man in the tattered military coat in my line of sight, the outline of his face that was half covered by the hat, looked strangely familiar.

I think I've seen it at some high-level economic forum.

Wang Cunzhuan took a small step forward out of curiosity, wanting to get closer and examine it more closely.

Just then, Jiang Jianguo felt a sudden panic.

He recognized the Tsinghua University architecture department head at a glance, who was doing very well in the dishwashing industry.

He quickly lowered his head, covered his mouth with the back of his rough hand, and pretended to cough violently.

"Cough cough! Cough cough cough!"

With his violent movement, the tattered military overcoat opened slightly.

A strong, pungent smell of mothballs, like an invisible biological weapon, suddenly burst forth from the gaps in his clothes.

This is the stale smell that's been lingering in the darkest part of the cabinet for five whole years.

Wang Cunxian was the first to be affected; the smell almost brought tears to his eyes.

He suddenly stopped in his tracks, covered his nose tightly, and took three steps back with a look of disgust on his face.

What a familiar silhouette, what a bigwig from the economic forum.

The pungent smell of camphor balls completely banished them to the ends of the earth.

Wang Cun shook his head vigorously, completely dispelling his doubts and assuming that this was just an old man from a nearby alley.

"Sir, please come earlier tomorrow. We really don't have any ingredients left in the shop today," Wang Cunxin said, pinching his nose and speaking in a muffled voice.

Jiang Jianguo was secretly pleased to see that he had passed the test by relying on his sense of smell.

He completely ignored this academic giant, whom he considered a mere "old cleaner."

His gaze went straight past Wang Cunxin's shoulder and locked onto a square table in the center of the courtyard like a hawk's.

That's the only empty table in the entire courtyard right now.

Actually, that was Lin Mo's main table, which he used to drink tea and relax after cooking. It was never open to the public.

Jiang Jianguo strode over, pulled out the heavy long bench, and plopped down on it.

He initially wanted to slam his fist on the table and fly into a rage, but then he reconsidered.

What if I act too arrogantly, and Lin Mo takes advantage of the situation and has someone throw me out?

How can he find fault then? How can he expose this scam?

The shrewd old fox in the business world has a quick mind.

Jiang Jianguo's eyes lit up, and he decided to try a different approach.

He wanted to use the most pitiful and humble posture to put Lin Mo on the moral high ground and force the kid to cook!

As long as Lin Mo serves the dishes, he has plenty of ways to find fault with them.

Jiang Jianguo took a deep breath and hunched his broad back deeply.

He tucked his hands into the sleeves of his military overcoat, his shoulders trembling slightly, as if the chill of early winter outside had already frozen him to the bone.

There were several other diners in the courtyard who were drinking tea and digesting their food, and they all cast surprised glances at him.

Jiang Jianguo ignored all the gazes around him.

He raised his head, facing the direction of the kitchen, and deliberately made his voice hoarse and trembling, conveying a strong sense of desolation.

"Boss..."

Jiang Jianguo's voice sounded like that of a lonely old man who was about to faint from hunger.

"I walked more than ten miles, and my legs are so cold they're numb..."

"I haven't eaten all day, my stomach is constantly churning with acid, and I don't even have a place to stand."

As he spoke, he sniffed hard, as if tears were about to fall from his eyes.

"Do you have anything hot to eat here? Leftovers or soup will do, could you spare a bite for this old man?"

This commotion is truly pitiful.

But in the backyard, separated by a wall.

At this moment, Jiang Ruoyun was squatting under the eaves in the backyard feeding the cat, gently coaxing it, completely unaware of the commotion in the front yard.

A slight sound came from the direction of the kitchen.

The heavy curtain used to block the wind was slowly lifted from the inside.

Lin Mo was holding a long-handled wok that had just been washed.

With her other hand, she held a clean towel and slowly wiped the water stains off her slender fingers.

He came out of the kitchen.

Lin Mo walked to the center of the courtyard and stopped two steps away from the main table.

He raised his deep, calm eyes.

My gaze fell on this shabby old man who was wearing a tattered military overcoat and reading glasses, and who was speaking pitiful words about begging for food, but whose posture was inexplicably upright.

He was clearly a pitiful old man.

But Lin Mo keenly sensed that the old man exuded an arrogant aura, a kind of arrogance stemming from someone accustomed to giving orders.

Lin Mo frowned slightly.

Seeing Lin Mo stop, Jiang Jianguo, in the shadow of his woolen hat, curled up a cold smile.

You've taken the bait, haven't you, you little rascal!

He slowly reached his hand into the pocket of his military overcoat.

I fumbled around for a while.

Jiang Jianguo pulled a crumpled 100-yuan bill out of his pocket.

"I'm not going to eat your food for free, old man!"

He held the banknotes high and then clenched his wrist.

With a crisp "smack," he slammed the hundred-yuan bill onto the table.