Chapter 22 Leave Room for Others, So You May Meet Again in the Future

The situation had come to a stalemate.

More than half of the diners had already left; those with status barely spared a glance at such a trivial altercation. It was, after all, just two foul-mouthed nouveau riche offending a wealthy man accompanied by someone dressed oddly—a matter hardly worth anyone’s attention. At most, that strangely dressed man seemed to know a lot of foreign languages, but what of it?

For those who had come simply to dine, their attitude toward Eiffel had quietly shifted. It turned out that eating at the Eiffel Restaurant not only required you to watch out for those in the corners mocking you but also to beware of these foreigners and their local sympathizers siding against you.

“I come here to dine and give you face, spend my money here, and yet I might be ridiculed as a fool? Why on earth would I come back after such an insult?”

The changing attitude of the customers left Madame Louis anxious and flustered. At that moment, she understood a crucial truth. In this country, many take pride in dining on Western cuisine; you may look down on them, but you must never let them realize it. Lose these gods of wealth coming to spend their money, and you’re nothing—just another foreigner seeking a living in this land, nothing more.

“Chen, I am truly sorry. I failed to understand the situation. Let me make a solemn promise to you: the Eiffel Restaurant will improve and reform. Chen, I need this livelihood, I really do.” Madame Louis played the sympathy card.

Her humble posture, complete with bows and desperate pleas, touched even Chen Aijia, who didn’t have the heart to let Yang Changfeng continue their standoff with Eiffel.

She pulled Yang Changfeng aside and whispered, “Actually, Madame Louis isn’t a foreigner. She holds our country’s citizenship. Her spouse is a scientist who returned from overseas some years ago. Their life isn’t easy.”

Yang Changfeng frowned. Was this true?

These days, scientists who return home, regardless of their expertise or patriotic sentiment, simply can’t compare to the older generation who came back when the country’s environment for science was much less favorable. Now, the nation’s development means scientists can often find better research conditions here than abroad. Still, it takes real courage and character to return, and Yang Changfeng respected such people.

If Madame Louis was truly the spouse of a returned scientist, then ruining their business today would be unspeakably heartless. Scientists are never rich; most live in modest circumstances. If this foreign-looking woman had to run a restaurant to support her family, and even if her views and feelings still carried certain prejudices, it didn’t matter. Yang Changfeng didn’t care about her subjective opinions—so long as she made an objective contribution, that was enough.

“There’s no need for me to deceive you in this. Maybe I have a bit of a weakness for foreign things, but I wouldn’t make up a story to fool you. You’re not so easily taken in, are you?” Chen Aijia met Yang Changfeng’s sharp gaze calmly, utterly at ease in her heart.

After a moment, Yang Changfeng turned to glance at Madame Louis and said coldly, “I can let this go, but your restaurant does need some serious reform.”

Chen Aijia quickly echoed, “Yes, Madame Louis. I hope that next time I come, I won’t have such a disappointing dining experience.”

Madame Louis was no fool; she immediately understood Chen Aijia’s implication. She would not stop coming to dine, which meant she forgave the restaurant for this unpleasant experience—a key sign, since Chen could bring a certain clientele with her.

She had already interrogated the two troublemakers under her boss’s pressure. Knowing they were doomed, the two had confessed everything. Even the lobby manager dared not act arrogantly now; he finally realized that even the boss had to defer to this beautiful woman—she was the most important customer. To defend some ordinary guests and offend such a valued patron was absolute folly.

“Very well. I will penalize them according to our employee guidelines. Those two rude customers will never set foot in the Eiffel Restaurant again. I will do everything I can to improve our dining environment. Please, trust our promise—please believe in us!” Madame Louis bowed deeply to the remaining diners, before finally giving Yang Changfeng a deep bow as well.

“Sir, in fact you may call me Mrs. Zhang; my husband’s surname is Zhang. According to tradition, a wife takes her husband’s name. I, too, deserve the honorific Mrs. Zhang or Madame Zhang, don’t you agree?”

Ah, the ways of business! Truly, merchants have always chased profit—our ancestors summed it up perfectly.

With a slight nod, Yang Changfeng glanced at the cowering man and woman in the corner, who didn’t even dare breathe. He could not have foreseen that because of today’s events—because of Madame Louis, or more accurately, Madame Zhang—an elaborate plot against him and Chen Aijia, set in motion by these very two people, would soon be unraveled, allowing him to sidestep a looming crisis.

Madame Louis felt awkward. She sensed Yang Changfeng’s coldness, even hostility, but she had no grounds to object. After all, it was her restaurant that had allowed such unpleasantness to occur—directed at her guests, no less.

How the restaurant would be reformed was no longer their concern. Before they left, Madame Louis insisted Yang Changfeng accept a diamond card for the Eiffel Restaurant. For a place frequented by many high officials and dignitaries, a card that offered ten years of free meals—up to three times a day, no charge—was practically a lifelong meal ticket.

Chen Aijia had one as well.

But for people of status, even with a diamond card, dining without paying was deeply shameful.

Still, Chen Aijia couldn’t shake the feeling that if Yang Changfeng ever did come to use it, with his notorious stinginess, he just might use that diamond card for a meal costing thousands.

This man, utterly shameless and unbound by convention, was impossible to predict!

As they stepped outside, Yang Changfeng hailed a cab, scowling as he slid into the front passenger seat, not even bothering to open the door for Chen Aijia.

Chen Aijia stamped her foot—this man was not a gentleman at all! Was he even a man?

Just as she reached out to open the door herself, a Cayenne reversed towards them. A soft voice called from the window, “Aijia? Is that really you? Why are you getting into a car like that?”

Chen Aijia frowned faintly and shot a quick glance at Yang Changfeng in the front seat, then sighed and forced a sheepish smile as she greeted the person in the Cayenne, “Young Master Sun, hello. I didn’t expect to see you here.”