Chapter 2

Over the next few days, I kept going to work as usual.

Every morning at seven, I was at the restaurant checking deliveries, watching the kitchen prep ingredients, and leaving at ten at night.

Just like always.

George thought it was over.

He started going out drinking more often, saying he was “entertaining suppliers.”

Sometimes he wouldn’t show up at the restaurant for three days, and on the phone he’d always say he was discussing the branch.

The branch really was under renovation. He took 400,000 yuan over there and said it was for renovation and equipment.

I didn’t say a word and let him do it.

But I started doing something else.

In the kitchen, there was a big freezer, and it held all the key ingredients.

Every night before closing, I’d take inventory again and lock it with my own lock.

George didn’t know about this habit.

Or rather, he simply didn’t care about the kitchen.

What he cared about was whether the suppliers could “show some appreciation” before the branch opened.

A month before opening, he asked me out for drinks.

“Ethan, I’ve thought about the branch’s procurement. We’ll still use the flagship restaurant’s suppliers.”

“Long-term cooperation means we can drive the prices down.”

I held my glass and said nothing.

“How about your side? The recipe and all that—no problems, right?”

“No problems,” I said.

He nodded in satisfaction and drained his glass.

What he didn’t know was that that afternoon, I had just come back from a food factory in the suburbs.

I’d found the small factory myself. They specialized in making the key components for hot pot base mix.

I swapped out the three most important ingredients in the recipe for their product.

The price was only half of what we’d paid before, but the taste was exactly the same.

No—exactly the same isn’t the right way to put it.

It was that only I knew how to make it taste exactly the same.

I left my number with the factory owner and told him:

“From now on, this batch of ingredients only goes to my flagship restaurant. Nobody else gets it.”

The owner was an old man in his fifties, and the way he looked at me was a little strange.

“Kid, this is—”

“To protect myself.”

He didn’t ask anything else.

That was how the flagship restaurant kept the same flavor.

But every batch of broth base mix sent to the branch had already been quietly swapped out.

I’d done the math. Based on the branch’s stock levels, in their first month of opening, they’d be using the new recipe’s broth base mix.

On the surface, it would seem the same as the flagship restaurant.

But in your mouth, it would be slightly off.

Just slightly.

But regular customers could taste it right away.

George knew nothing.

A week before opening, the suppliers took him out to eat. He got wasted and sent a voice message in the group chat:

“Brothers, after we open, work hard. Our chance to get rich is here!”

I looked at that voice message and muted my phone.

George, if you want to get rich, I’m not stopping you.

But don’t use my money to do it.

This place is half mine.

When you were taking kickbacks, you never once thought about that.