APTnovel Chapter 169 On what grounds is this suppression?
Chapter 169 On what grounds is this suppression?
"W-What did you say?!"
The third brother looked as if he had been struck by a high-voltage electric shock; his mouth was agape enough to fit a whole goose egg, and he stood frozen in place.
When Su Ang, who was sitting upright in the car, heard the name "Chen Feng," his body suddenly stiffened as if it were dead iron.
"And...and I overheard those die-hard fans outside the door saying..."
Since Zhou Benchang had already shattered his dignity, he simply closed his eyes and blurted out all the cruelest truths in one go:
"The old man's secret recipe, at most, only inherited a fraction of Chen Feng's true skills... The essence of this bowl of noodles is probably even inferior to the skill of seven or eight hands made by Chen Feng himself!!"
boom!!
These words, like an invisible thunderclap, exploded with a deafening roar within the luxurious black Mercedes-Benz, creating a cataclysmic upheaval!
"Not even seven or eight tenths... just a fraction of the true essence..."
Su Ang stared blankly at the plastic takeout box in front of him, which he had scraped clean with a large iron spoon until not a single hair was left, so clean that his own face could be seen reflected in it.
In that instant, a feeling of betrayal, of being slapped in the face by being reduced to a lower dimension, transformed into a chilling vapor that surged from the soles of his feet straight up to the top of his head with a bang.
*Smack!*
Su Ang's fair right hand slammed violently against the high-end alloy shield in front of him, the veins on the back of his hand bulging out one by one.
He was so angry that he trembled all over. His once handsome and composed face, which had always been in control, was now completely distorted and turned into one of utter madness.
Her clear voice, filled with extreme shame and anger, became shrill and completely distorted in tone.
"Zhou Benchang!!"
I invited you here so that you could build an ironclad blockade for me!
"And you! Not only are you inferior to others, but you also brought in dishwater taught by the enemy to feed me?!"
"Are you slapping my Su Ang and the Su Group in the face?!"
Su Ang roared like a madman in the carriage, pounding his fists on the leather seat with a series of dull thuds.
"Mr. Su... Absolutely not! I... I was just reporting the truth..."
Zhou Benchang shrank his neck, so timid in the face of the eldest son of the Su family's fury that he didn't even dare to breathe.
"Enough!!"
Su Ang raised a fist, about to continue swearing without restraint.
But in that one second when his right hand froze in mid-air...
"Buzz—!!"
Su Ang's frantic shouts and curses abruptly and strangely stopped abruptly.
Inside the carriage, at that moment, absolute, deathly silence suddenly descended.
Su Ang was completely stunned.
His hands froze in mid-air, his narrow, bloodshot black eyes behind his glasses staring intently at the empty plastic box. His pupils gradually dilated, and he slumped back into his seat as if he had lost his soul.
Meanwhile, in the passenger seat, the third brother, who had been gritting his teeth along with Su Ang, froze in place for a moment.
What's going on, Mr. Su?
The third brother's mouth was half open, and his eyes followed Su Ang's gaze to the wooden door not far away, which was completely surrounded by a dense crowd of diners.
This physical stiffness filled them with utter terror.
Because at this very moment, the same terrifying thought flashed through their minds—
This bowl of noodles… This bowl of braised pork noodles that made Zhou Benchang, a top-notch chef of state banquets who is admired by thousands in Central and Southern China, completely lose his composure and dignity, and shamelessly take it back for a second time despite being ridiculed… This bowl of divine noodles that made Su Ang, the eldest young master of the Su family who is usually extremely picky and only eats Michelin-standard food, finish every last grain of rice…
It wasn't even cooked by Chen Feng next door.
It's just a fast food stall run by an old man named Liu, who doesn't even have a chef's license, at the very bottom of the street.
As for that old Liu... he only learned a few tricks from Chen Feng!
A few genuine skills passed down. An old man named Liu who wasn't even considered an enemy.
In just one hour, a plate of braised pork belly broke down the blockade they had built up at such great expense...
It easily, even somewhat irrationally, smashed a second, bloody, and enormous hole that could never be plugged again.
silence.
A deathly silence permeated the luxurious interior of the black Mercedes-Benz, almost suffocatingly so.
Su Ang slumped in the leather seat, his once meticulously combed hair now looking somewhat disheveled due to his near-hysterical outburst of rage.
His pupils, hidden behind his gold-rimmed glasses, were now staring blankly and absently at the plastic takeout box, which was cleaner than if it had been washed.
Before today, before the flames of war were fully ignited in the old street early this morning, Su Ang had never given Chen Feng a second glance.
In his imagination, Chen Feng was just a cook with some skills, and there were plenty of them.
Moreover, no matter how skilled a person is, in the face of the assembly line built by capital, and the comprehensive network of digital private domain customer acquisition and cross-industry alliances, they are destined to be nothing more than an ant that can be crushed at any time.
He had taken it for granted that even if Chen Feng could make the die-hard fans in Chengnan shed tears, his skills were still just so-so.
But what about now?!
Su Ang raised his right hand shakily, his knuckles still bearing a trace of amber-colored oil that he had accidentally gotten on them earlier.
It was this one dish of braised pork noodles that made him abandon all the reserve and dignity of a young master from a prestigious family, and even act like a vicious wolf that hadn't eaten for three days...
They didn't even learn all of Chen Feng's poor cook skills?!
The skill level isn't even seven or eight tenths?!
It turns out it was just a recipe that the man casually tossed aside at the very bottom of the old street, given to an old man who didn't even have a chef's license to make a living?!
"A few moves, hehe..."
Su Ang was speechless for a moment, his face turning deathly pale.
Another extremely absurd and terrifying thought suddenly burst forth, shattering all his arrogance with a deafening crash.
Old Liu, who only received two or three of Chen Feng's true teachings, was able to use a pot of pork belly to completely break Zhou Benchang, the master of the Red Wall, so that Zhou would turn around and reluctantly pack up his belongings.
What if... Chen Feng himself were in charge of cooking?!
Just how delicious must the loach that man stewed with red peppers today have been?!
What kind of transcendent flavor would that be, an unparalleled taste that could leave this company utterly bewildered and disoriented?!
Su Ang dared not think about it; he dared not delve into it for even a second.
The invisible white mist that shrouded the top of the dilapidated wooden door of "Human Fireworks" suddenly transformed into a bottomless and terrifying abyss of gluttony in the eyes of this elite who prided himself on having all the connections in the world.
"Mr. Su..."
The third brother, who was standing to the side, was also completely terrified.
His mouth was half-open, the sticky aroma of braised pork still lingering in his nostrils, but he felt a chill creeping down his spine.
He turned his head, somewhat dazed, to look at Su Ang, whose face was as pale as paper. His voice trembled violently, and he blurted out, with extreme haste and despair, the most heart-wrenching and untimely question:
"If Chen Feng's skills... have truly reached such a level that even the heavens would kneel down in admiration..."
"So, our thirteen chain stores, after throwing out so much super bait this morning, going through so much trouble and investing so much capital... what... do we still have the leverage to suppress him?!"
Suppress him?!
The word "suppress" struck Su Ang's face like a resounding slap in the face.
With a few masterful techniques, he broke down the threshold of Old Liu's noodle shop.
The authentic persona lured all the top bloggers in the south of the city to voluntarily "disguise" themselves and come for a stomach cleansing, creating a shocking contrast that caused the entire internet to break down.
The impregnable fortress they painstakingly built was utterly destroyed by Chen Feng's unreasonable culinary skills, much like a snowman built with ice in the sweltering heat of summer. Before it even encountered an enemy, it crumbled completely under the spittle of the diners.
"On what grounds are you suppressing me...?"