Chapter Twenty-One: Market Stall Goods

He had never expected that Lu Hao, who looked utterly unremarkable, dressed head to toe in cheap street-market clothes—a man who was clearly only able to dine at the Arabian restaurant thanks to Zhang Qingfan—would actually possess a diamond-level VIP card from the Song Corporation. According to what he knew, such cards were exceedingly rare; fewer than a hundred had ever been issued. Their recipients included not only political leaders but also titans of industry and major partners.

If it hadn’t been for that one time at the company’s annual party, when the chairman, drunk and excited during his speech, had spoken about this very gold card and specifically let those of them in middle and lower management take a look at it in turn, he might never have recognized the value of the diamond VIP card.

“Sir, sir, did you drop this card?” At this moment, he hurried after Lu Hao, eyes alight with excitement.

Hearing this, Lu Hao felt his right pocket and discovered that the bottom had torn open—the VIP card from the Song Corporation really had fallen out. “Thank you, yes, that is my card,” Lu Hao said, stepping forward, taking the glittering diamond VIP card, and smiling gratefully. “Thank you, Manager.”

“This... Is this card really yours?” Manager Wang stared at him in disbelief.

Just then, Zhang Qingfan approached, her graceful steps drawing attention. “Of course it’s his. He’s the young master of the Song Corporation. My teacher saved him—he’s a legendary physician, and he even broke the Thai curse.”

Manager Wang went pale as he heard this. He knew well that the Song Corporation was the powerful patron behind this Arabian restaurant, and it had been emphasized repeatedly: any guest dining here with a diamond VIP card must have every request met unconditionally. Furthermore, no charges were to be made, for the significance behind that card was far too weighty.

“My sincerest apologies—I truly didn’t know your identity before. Allow me to apologize ten thousand times over,” Manager Wang said, bowing deeply to Lu Hao. “So long as you hold this card, all your expenses today are on the house. Moreover, on behalf of the restaurant, I offer you ten thousand apologies for our inadequate service.”

With that, he turned and dealt a sharp slap to Zhang Qiang, who had been lingering behind him.

“Aah!” Zhang Qiang cried out, utterly bewildered as to why the manager had struck him.

“Manager Wang, what are you doing?” Zhang Qiang protested, staring at him.

“What am I doing? Don’t you realize what a disaster you’ve caused?” Manager Wang replied, his frustration obvious. “This gentleman is a diamond VIP cardholder of the Song Corporation—his status is beyond compare. You dared to cause him trouble at the door? Even if your father—or your grandfather crawled out of his grave—it would do you no good!”

His anger unspent, Manager Wang slapped Zhang Qiang again, leaving his head ringing.

At this, Zhang Qingfan looked at Lu Hao, her expression one of surprise. “I had no idea the Song Corporation was so generous as to give you a diamond VIP card, Teacher. Even someone at my uncle’s level could hardly dream of having one.”

“It’s not so dramatic. Let’s go inside and eat,” Lu Hao said with a smile. He only wanted to keep a low profile and had no wish to draw too much attention.

“I’ll personally attend to you. Please, come in. I truly apologize for everything,” Manager Wang said, full of remorse.

Unlike Zhang Qiang, he had earned his position through his own abilities.

“Very well,” Lu Hao replied, nodding.

Soon, the three of them entered the restaurant. Rarely was there a table in this Arabian restaurant—where even the cheapest dish cost over a thousand yuan—so lavishly spread. Lu Hao and Zhang Qingfan’s table was heaped with all manner of exquisite dishes: over twenty in total, including lamb and beef prepared with secret Arabian techniques, flatbreads, salads, shrimp flown in from Arabia—all of it complete.

Even Lu Hao felt that this was somewhat wasteful and extravagant, but Manager Wang insisted it was still not enough—no matter how much they ordered, it could never make up for the earlier offense.

Having personally introduced the dishes and their correct ways of eating, and even sliced generous portions of meat and bread for Lu Hao himself, Manager Wang finally took his leave—though not without apologizing profusely once again.

Yet, as soon as he left, a mocking voice drifted to Lu Hao’s ears.

“Well, well, look who’s here. A jobless bum who can’t even pay off thirty thousand yuan in family debt dares to eat at a foreign restaurant like this?”

Lu Hao found the voice oddly familiar, but couldn’t immediately recall where he’d heard it before.

“Who is it?” Lu Hao looked toward the sound.

He saw a short man with a middle parting, dressed in an ill-fitting but expensive-looking suit, feet clad in oversized crocodile-leather shoes, holding a glass of red wine and pretending to be someone of high society.

“It’s you, Xu Sen!” Lu Hao’s pupils narrowed.

Xu Sen was the younger brother of his former fiancée, Xu Juan. She had demanded a three-hundred-thousand-yuan bride price for her brother’s wedding. Originally, it was supposed to be just one hundred thousand, which Xu Juan had already pocketed, but after she cheated on him and wanted to make things difficult, she raised it to four hundred thousand. Lu Hao still hadn’t had the chance to settle that score.

“Well, Xu Sen, you have some nerve. I haven’t even come looking for you, yet you show up here,” Lu Hao said coldly.

“I should be asking you that! Your family’s just regular farmers—how could you possibly afford to eat here?” Xu Sen straightened his clothes and sneered. “Do you still think you’re my brother-in-law? Lu Hao, from now on, when you see me, you’d better call me Brother Sen and show some respect, understand? I’m now working under Brother Wen Guo—my sister’s new husband—as a supervisor on a construction site. I don’t have to do anything and still make tens of thousands a month. Why shouldn’t I dine here?”

“Your brother-in-law? Sun Wenguo? He really isn’t picky, is he!” Lu Hao’s eyes grew cold. “He’s a perfect match for your sister—birds of a feather.”

“What’s going on?” Zhang Qingfan, confused by the exchange, turned to Lu Hao in surprise.