I said, "But I think I heard that you have to book 48 hours in advance."
Jin Shaoyan smiled. "Sigh, I must be out of my mind. I just realized that these so-called rules aren't meant for people like him."
We had only been lingering downstairs for a short while when Qin Shi Huang led his entourage down the stairs. He had already heard that someone was going to invite him to dinner.
Jin Shaoyan took out his phone, paused for a moment, and said to me, "I'm sorry, I can't call a convoy to pick him up because 'he' just got home..."
"I'll take a taxi," I said naturally.
Jin Shaoyan chuckled and said, "Take a taxi? You don't expect me to take a taxi to a place like Caesar's, do you?"
I said, "Then there's another way, I'll drive there myself." Jin Shaoyan nodded. I gestured to Baozi, and Baozi headed straight for Xiao Wang's house.
After Baozi left, Jin Shaoyan said to Liu Bang, "Brother Liu, I'm in a difficult position with your terms..."
A few minutes later, Baozi honked the horn frantically. It turned out that Jin Shaoyan's Ferrari sports car was blocking the road. Just as he took out his keys, Xiang Yu impatiently walked out, picked up the car, and stood on the steps. After Baozi passed, he put it back in its original position. Xiang Yu lovingly stroked the back of the van and said, "This car is still the one I like best."
Jin Shaoyan touched the dirty emblem on the back of the van with trepidation and said, "Is this the legendary Jinbei?" I waved my hand and said, "If you feel too embarrassed, there's a People's Bank of China branch outside the street. Have Brother Yu take the emblem off and put it back on, and say it's a new large commercial vehicle from Mercedes-Benz."
Jin Shaoyan glanced back at Li Shishi, seeing her smiling and unconcerned, before reluctantly crawling inside. Baozi, who had only just found out the Ferrari belonged to Jin Shaoyan, whispered to me, "When did you meet such a rich friend?"
I really wanted to tell her I made 2 million in one afternoon—but it all vanished in an instant.
While parking in Caesar's parking lot, a Honda Acura luxury car tried to cut me off, and I swerved to the side, almost crashing into a Lamborghini. Damn it, a Japanese car dares to cut me off! Even if my Jinbei van is reduced to just a steering wheel, I can replace it within half an hour. I'll smash your headlights, and you'll be crying then!
When the parking attendant saw a van that looked like it should have been scrapped long ago crash into us, he suppressed a laugh and came over to me, saying, "Sir, I'm sorry, this isn't a parking lot."
I pointed to the increasingly impressive signs around me and said, "What are all these? Livestock?" The boy pressed the intercom loudly, seemingly trying to call security.
Jin Shaoyan said weakly from the back seat, "We're here to spend money..."
The boy glanced at him casually and immediately exclaimed, "Young Master Jin?"
We got out of the car, drawing surprised glances. Xiang Yu and Liu Bang were beaming with pride, because the minivan made them look imposing and powerful amidst the sea of cars, which suited their vanity perfectly. I reckon that after this meal, Xiang Yu would never look at any other car again.
Those people almost surrounded us, not just because we arrived in a minivan, but because we arrived in more than one minivan, and—we were overloaded. They had witnessed a scene from an advertisement: people of all kinds, men and women, constantly getting out of a vehicle, and when the incredibly tall Xiang Yu finally stepped out, they almost applauded enthusiastically.
I tossed the car keys, which were still attached to my nail clippers and ear pick, to the valet and strode inside, ignoring the "No entry if improperly dressed" sign. Don't forget, my daughter Baozi also works in the food service industry, and she's specifically in charge of this area. She says that as long as you're not wearing slippers, the doorman can't do anything to you.
Sure enough, the two doormen, both over 1.9 meters tall, could only stare at us as we filed in. Perhaps they were intimidated by our imposing presence.
The foreman was a refined-looking middle-aged man. Just being able to get into this place meant he was someone of importance; even a beggar would have to be treated with utmost care. The well-trained foreman gave us a half-bow with a smile, and I quickly got down to business, afraid that Fatty Ying might yell "Rise!" or something.
I told the supervisor, "Find us a private room."
The head waiter smiled and said, "I'm sorry, sir, we don't have private rooms. Do you have a reservation?"
Just then, Jin Shaoyan squeezed through from behind, still clutching his wallet, probably having just tipped the driver. The supervisor exclaimed in surprise, "Young Master Jin?" It seemed that Jin Shaoyan knew almost everyone here, from top to bottom; the fact that no one called him "Mr." spoke volumes about his ingratiating and obsequious manner.
Jin Shaoyan wiped his sweat and said, "Please arrange for us to be seated." Our group standing in the hall did indeed create a comical effect, especially Jing Ke and Xiang Yu dressed as Che Guevara. I overheard the people at the nearest table talking about us: "They're all performance artists..."
The head waiter seemed to understand Jin Shaoyan's feelings at that moment, and arranged for us to sit in a relatively quiet corner. Once we were seated, a blonde, blue-eyed French girl approached with the menu, and Jin Shaoyan finally regained his confidence and composure. He first thanked her in French, then turned to us and asked, "What would you like for an aperitif?"
I said, "No need to open it. We just had a bowl of porridge at 10 a.m., so our stomachs are flat and fertile now, and we can hold our hunger."
I watched helplessly as Jin Shaoyan's jelly-glued hair drooped down strand by strand. Li Shishi took the menu and flipped through it, saying to the French girl, "One medium-rare steak, half a portion of foie gras, and one portion of spaghetti." Then she handed the menu to Baozi, who, not wanting to look foolish, said, "The same as her."
I don't know which movie Li Shishi learned to order food from. When the menu was in my hands, I looked at the table full of people and said to the French girl, "There are only so many of us. Is it okay if you order whatever you think is best? Just bring out all your good stuff, except for the civet cat, one of everything else."
Jin Shaoyan said dejectedly, "Let's do as he says, bring out a bottle of '82 red wine."
Wow, the legendary 1982 vintage red wine! I always see people in movies doing this so arrogantly. Apparently, there was a poor grape harvest in 1982, so red wine was scarce. But strangely, after all these years, how come we still haven't finished this 1982 vintage?
Qin Shi Huang said knowingly, "Bring a few more pairs of disposable chopsticks." He learned it from eating fried pancakes last time.
We don't know if the French girl didn't understand Chinese very well or if she thought it was Chinese humor, but she just smiled at us and left after Jin Shaoyan confirmed it.
When the next dish was served, it was served by a native Chinese girl. As soon as the roast chicken arrived, everyone started digging in. Jin Shaoyan and Li Shishi had just raised their knives and forks when they saw a row of chicken ribs twirling around on all the plates. When the lettuce came, Jing Ersha had a bright idea. He skewered them all with a fork and spun them into his mouth like he was eating cotton candy.
Just then, the waiter brought over a glass of red wine and politely asked Jin Shaoyan, "Would you like to try some wine?" Xiang Yu snatched it, smelled it, and said, "This wine has no aroma." He poured himself a glass and drank it down in one gulp, saying with great expertise, "Is your cola spoiled?" Then he asked me, "What did we drink last time?"
I said, "Sanliangye."
Xiang Yu said to the waiter, "Bring us three bottles of Sanliangye."
Before the waiter could speak, Jin Shaoyan pulled out a wad of cash and stuffed it into his hand: "I know you don't have any, think of something." The waiter left, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.
Jin Shaoyan must have practiced yoga; after finishing this, he immediately hid his head behind his heels.
Baozi, realizing he'd embarrassed himself, laughed and said, "Why do you all cause such a ruckus wherever you go? I heard this restaurant really is owned by a Frenchman. Aren't you afraid of tarnishing the reputation of Chinese people by doing this?"
I said, "Since it's already done, there's nothing more to say. How come those French people aren't ashamed to eat buns with knives and forks? Do you know what true aristocracy is? It's not about being pretentious, it's about being awesome."
What a joke! You're talking to me about nobility? Everyone here, except for me and Baozi, is incredibly expensive. Besides, we've already taken Sanliangye; it's not appropriate to keep things so tense.
A moment later, a waiter brought over a plate, but Jin Shaoyan hadn't touched his money. He told us, "Our French boss heard about Jin Shao's request and greatly admires your fusion of Chinese and Western dining styles. He specially gifted you two bottles of his prized Moutai, hoping you would enjoy your meal."
This is the reality of China. I reckon if we did this in France, we would have been politely "asked" to leave long ago.
Upon hearing that the man had already been humiliated by the French, Jin Shaoyan simply crawled out from under the table, rolled up his sleeves, grabbed a bottle of Moutai, and poured it for everyone, saying, "Today is today, let's drink Moutai with jam."
I'm starting to like this kid.
Later, we simply asked for chopsticks, mixed 1982 red wine and Moutai, and ate a bellyful of lobster, snails, and vegetable leaves. It would have been perfect if we could put a hot pot on the table.
Just as Jin Shaoyan was enjoying his meal, he went to the restroom. A few seconds after he left, a handsome young man walked in, supporting a beautiful woman's waist. I didn't look, but when I did, I gasped in shock.
It's "him"—another Jin Shaoyan!