Chapter 160 Since you've been crying so badly, I'll lend you two crabs.

The heavy wooden door slammed shut with a dull creak.

The cool autumn breeze that wafted through the alley was completely kept out of the door.

Lin Mo's tall and slender figure disappeared around the corner of the gray brick wall with that soft sound.

The courtyard, which had fallen into a brief silence because of the old man's wailing, instantly erupted into a frenzy the moment the door closed.

It's like a huge rock being thrown into a calm lake.

The diners put down their bowls one after another, not even bothering to pick up their chopsticks.

Everyone lowered their voices, their heads unconsciously huddled together, their eyes filled with barely suppressed curiosity.

"Just who is this old man? He's got way too much influence."

"The owner has to personally go out to borrow ingredients just to order food? I've been eating here for several days and I've never seen such an exceptional treatment."

"What do you know? He ordered crab-stuffed orange! Do you think just any ordinary small restaurant can make that?"

At the next table sat a young, chubby man wearing black-rimmed glasses; he was clearly a seasoned foodie.

He picked at the remaining vegetables in his bowl, then wiped the grease from the corner of his mouth with a lingering sense of satisfaction.

"Crab-stuffed orange, that's a top-notch dish that originated from the Southern Song Dynasty court."

The fat man deliberately kept everyone in suspense, lowering his voice as he looked at the curious gazes of those around him.

"It is said that the process of making this dish is so complicated that it can drive people crazy."

"How many young chefs these days would dare to take on this job with their bare hands? Let alone on a whim."

Zhou Yang, who was sitting behind the cashier reviewing the ledgers, suddenly snorted.

He held a cheap calligraphy brush that cost only a few dollars in his hand and casually paused it on the rough Xuan paper.

A single ink flower slowly spreads across the paper, exuding a free and unrestrained spirit.

"The dishes recorded in the Southern Song Dynasty book 'Shan Jia Qing Gong' are far beyond what ordinary dishes can compare to."

"Take a large, ripe orange with the stem still attached, cut off the top and remove the pulp, but leave a little juice at the bottom."

"Then remove all the crab roe and snow-white crab meat from the autumn crab, add good wine and vinegar, put it in an orange cup, and steam it slowly until cooked."

Zhou Yang blew on the still-wet ink on the paper and then slowly continued speaking.

"If the cooking time is even slightly off, the fruit acid won't be able to mask the fishy smell of the seafood, and the whole dish will be ruined."

"This old man is really daring, bidding a hundred yuan, which isn't even enough to buy the legs of those two top-quality lake crabs."

Wang Cunxin, who was diligently washing dishes by the sink, straightened up.

He shook the dish soap foam off his hands and pushed up his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

"Old Zhou is right. This dish not only tests knife skills, but also the chef's ability to control the spirit of the ingredients."

Wang Cunzun grabbed a dry rag draped over the side and carefully wiped his hands dry.

His old eyes, which had been studying mortise and tenon structures for many years, sharply glanced at the figure sitting in the main seat.

"This old man probably came here specifically to cause trouble and challenge us."

"Trying to eat such expensive things with only a hundred yuan in your pocket is clearly just deliberately making things difficult for people."

A bald man picked his teeth and snorted with a look of disbelief.

"Old man, you can't speak too definitively. Although Mr. Lin's stir-fried home-style dishes are absolutely delicious, his traditional famous dishes are no joke."

"If it crashes later, this newly erected signboard will be completely destroyed."

The bald man curled his lip and threw the toothpick on the table.

"Then let's just sit and watch, since we don't have anything important to do this afternoon anyway."

"I also want to see if this lost Southern Song Dynasty imperial cuisine can actually be served in this drafty, dilapidated courtyard."

Sitting on the long bench, Jiang Jianguo heard every single word of these murmurs.

He hunched his shoulders, clutching the chipped old-fashioned enamel mug tightly in both hands.

The warmth from my fingertips barely dispelled the chill of the early autumn afternoon.

He kept his head down, his shoulders twitching rhythmically, the frequency perfectly controlled.

He seemed still immersed in the tragic drama of "missing his elderly mother" that he had just witnessed, unable to extricate himself from it.

His oversized, old military coat hung loosely on his body, making him look like a homeless, pitiful man.

Who would have thought that beneath this tattered coat, reeking of mothballs, lay...

Clinging tightly to her skin was an expensive silk shirt, custom-made by Italian artisans.

Jiang Jianguo sniffed and let out a long, mournful sigh with a heavy nasal tone.

He raised his dusty sleeve, completely obscuring most of his face.

He rubbed his eyes haphazardly a couple of times, the movements so pitiful and pathetic.

In fact, his eyes were so dry that not a single extra drop of moisture came out.

But to outsiders who didn't know the situation, he was definitely a lonely old man who had been worn down by the years.

Having never tasted good food in most of my life, all I crave now is a bowl of childhood memories that can soothe my soul.

Several soft-hearted young female diners at the next table immediately had tears in their eyes.

One of the girls picked up a plate of braised pork that had just been served and stood up to offer him two pieces.

But her best friend grabbed her wrist.

"Don't bother them." Her best friend gently shook her head.

"Some deep-seated desires cannot be satisfied by a single bite of meat. Let him wait quietly for that dish."

Listening to these whispers, Jiang Jianguo secretly rolled his eyes dramatically under the brim of his worn-out woolen hat.

He has no interest in the cheap and rampant sympathy of these ordinary people.

As the richest man in Beijing, he has eaten all sorts of top-tier delicacies, from the sky to the sea.

What business dealings haven't involved playing along and hiding a knife behind a smile?

The shadow cast by the tattered brim of his hat perfectly concealed his true facial expression.

Those eyes, which had been disguised as cloudy and dull, no longer held any trace of pitifulness.

All that remained was the cunning glint of an old fox, and a hint of smug satisfaction at impending success.

He let out a wild laugh from the depths of his heart, feeling incredibly comfortable throughout his body.

"Hahaha! You little rascal, you're still just an inexperienced greenhorn, you've taken the bait!"

"What's with the act of being cold-blooded and aloof? You were just tricked into becoming my errand boy by a few tears from me."

"You want to mess with me? While I was wielding power and playing mind games in the business world, you were still playing in the mud in your diapers!"

Jiang Jianguo roared wildly in his heart, his smugness reaching its peak.

He recalled the tasteless breakfast he had at his villa that morning, and his anger flared up again.

That Michelin three-star chef who was hailed as a genius by the outside world.

The dish, steamed king crab with white truffle, was served with great trepidation.

The name sounds impressive, and the ingredients are all top-quality goods that were air-freighted from abroad that very morning.

But what does it feel like to eat it?

Aside from the rigid, lifeless feel of RMB, it has absolutely no captivating, down-to-earth charm.

That kind of monotonous, rigid seasoning, like a precision machine, with perfect precision yet cold and stiff cooking time.

It had long since ruined his appetite, which had been used to truly good food.

Even foreign chefs who have won numerous international culinary awards cannot make food that he can swallow easily.

What kind of tricks can this poor boy, holed up in a dilapidated alley in Nanluoguxiang, possibly pull off?

"When the food is served, no matter how it's prepared, I'm going to find a hundred fatal flaws."

"If there's even the slightest thing that displeases me, I'll flip this broken table over in a minute!"

Jiang Jianguo secretly plotted, even rehearsing the perfect angle for flipping the table and the best posture for exerting force in his mind three times.

He wanted to show this arrogant brat just how high the threshold of the Jiang family mansion really was.

Want to snag that delicate, pampered cabbage from his family? In your next life!

Just then, a faint, lingering aroma drifted in from the direction of the kitchen.

That was the smell of scallions, ginger, and garlic left over from stir-frying shrimp earlier, mixed with a light aroma of soy sauce and meat.

The smell wasn't strong, but it was like a little imp with arms, sticking straight into people's nostrils.

Jiang Jianguo's nostrils twitched involuntarily twice.

His Adam's apple bobbed as he forced down a mouthful of saliva.

He had to admit that although the place was as shabby as a refugee camp, the lingering aroma did have something special about it.

But he immediately snorted inwardly, forcibly suppressing the urge to crave.

"It's just a trick, they must have added a lot of MSG and some high-tech stuff to enhance the flavor."

"Truly high-end ingredients often require only the simplest cooking methods."

"This kid only knows how to use these heavy-tasting scraps to fool ordinary people; he's not presentable."

The autumn wind slipped in through the cracks in the drafty courtyard wall, making Jiang Jianguo shiver.

He pulled his oversized, smelly, tattered military coat tighter around himself.

Jiang Jianguo sat there as steady as a mountain.

His posture was ramrod straight, exuding a sense of authority that was completely at odds with his tattered attire.

Like a cold-faced judge about to preside over a trial, holding unquestionable power of life and death.

He waited quietly, waiting for Lin Mo to return with the two crabs that would decide their fate.

The diners in the courtyard gradually stopped talking.

Everyone's gazes involuntarily drifted towards the gate of the courtyard house.

Time ticked by, and the air seemed to thicken.

Withered yellow leaves occasionally drifted down from the branches of the old elm tree, gently landing on the bluestone slabs.

Zhou Yang, behind the cashier, had already wasted three sheets of fine Xuan paper, his brows slightly furrowed.

Wang Cuncun, sitting by the sink, polished several patched-up plates until they shone brightly, as if they could be used as mirrors.

An eerie silence permeated the courtyard of the Lin Family Restaurant.

It was like the intense, oppressive calm before a storm.

Everyone was holding their breath, waiting to see how this drama would ultimately unfold.

Jiang Jianguo held the teacup, feeling the water in his palm gradually cool down.

His confidence grew stronger over time.

This kid has been gone for so long and we haven't seen him yet. He must not be able to find any top-quality ingredients that meet his standards.

Or perhaps, he's hiding in some deserted corner, worrying about how to come back and get by.

"If you don't have the skills, why take on a job you can't handle?"

"Today I'm going to smash your self-important reputation to pieces."

Jiang Jianguo was secretly pleased with himself, the curve of his lips becoming more and more pronounced, thinking that victory was in his grasp.

He had even started brainstorming the vicious lines he would use to mock Lin Mo later.

Ten minutes later.

The once quiet alley was suddenly filled with the sound of steady, powerful footsteps.

The footsteps were neither hurried nor slow, but they stomped on the blue bricks with a strange rhythm.

Jiang Jianguo's ears perked up immediately.

He quickly put down the enamel mug in his hand, his body involuntarily leaning slightly forward.

Those cloudy eyes instantly sharpened, staring intently at the tightly closed wooden door.

With a creak.

The heavy wooden door was pushed open again by a steady and composed force.

In his right hand, he casually held a net bag.

Inside the net, two large lake crabs with green backs and white bellies were waving their pincers menacingly.

Their lively and energetic spirit could be felt from a distance, exuding a vibrant energy.

The diners in the courtyard gasped almost simultaneously.

Zhou Yang stopped writing with his brush, and Wang Cunzhu threw away the rag he was holding.

Jiang Jianguo's eye muscles twitched uncontrollably.

Lin Mo closed the door behind him and walked straight towards the kitchen with the net in his hand.