Wang Zhuoran and Hu Yuee took their seats despite Yan Zhixu.

He looked at the environment in the store, although it was not grand but clean.

The business in the store is not bad, only three or two tables are not full.

There was no cacophony of loud conversations, and it was clear that most of the diners were of good quality.

Suddenly, Wang Zhuoran's eyes were attracted by a pair of words hanging on the wall.

Looking at the words "Only delicious food can't be let down in the world", the font is unrestrained, and the person who wrote the inscription is definitely open-minded.

But... why does this painting feel more familiar the more I look at it? It's a bit like the font of Dong Chengxi, chairman of the Huaguo Calligraphy Association, and Dong Lao.

He seriously commented, "This person imitates Dong Lao's words quite a bit."

Following his gaze, Yan Zhixu saw the painting on the wall.

She supported her chin with one hand, the curvature of the corner of her mouth rose slightly, and her voice was soft, "Imitation?"

Wang Zhuoran nodded, "Sure, otherwise it would be true?"

Mr. Dong is worth a lot of money, and Hua Guo doesn't know how many people beg him to inscribe his words, so it is impossible for him to appear in this ordinary restaurant.

His eyes glued to the words tightly, "But this imitator is also very careful, almost to the point where it's fake."

Yan Zhixu put away the hand supporting his chin, placed it on the dining table casually, knocked casually, and made a rhythmic crisp sound.

After a long time, she withdrew her gaze on the words, and licked her dry lips with her tongue, "What if I said it was true?"

Hearing this, Wang Zhuoran shook his head vigorously, and his tone must have even been a little excited.

"Really? Impossible. Do you know how much Dong Lao's words are worth?"

His voice was a bit loud, causing the other people sitting around to cast their eyes at their table.

The corners of Hu Yue'e's mouth twitched, and her feet under the dining table were lifted up and stomped on his shoes, crushing them vigorously.

Her voice was a little threatening, "Wang Dasha, will you die if you speak in a low volume?"

Wang Zhuoran: "..."

This nickname is really one for a while, and the speed is really fast.

Yan Zhixu lifted his eyelids, "Not only is this word true, but it was also given to Uncle Li by Mr. Dong on his own initiative."

Wang Zhuoran looked at her face, and her expression became serious, "Miss Yan, are you kidding me?"

She asked in a cold voice, "Do you think I'm joking with you?"

Sensing the icy cold breath all over her body, he rubbed the goose bumps floating on his arms.

"But...how do you know?"

"you guess."

She was there when Mr. Dong Xicheng wrote the inscription and witnessed it with her own eyes.

That time, Mr. Dong followed the teacher and her, and the three of them came to Li Ji for dinner.

When he tasted Uncle Li's dishes, he immediately said that he would inscribe a letter for Uncle Li's shop and hang it to decorate the walls even if he didn't want any money.

But Uncle Li said that there was a lot of oil smoke in the store, and he didn't even understand those calligraphy and paintings, so he didn't agree.

This word was still asked by Mr. Dong after he asked, and Uncle Li was willing to hang it on the wall.

Hu Yue'e glared at him fiercely, "Why did you talk to Miss Yan? Just shut up if you don't know what to say."

Since Miss Yan can be so sure, this painting must be real.

"Hehehe..."

The corners of Wang Zhuoran's mouth twitched, itchy and uncomfortable.

Why do Lao Dong's paintings appear here? Could it be that the owner of this store is an invisible local tyrant? One Zheng Qianjin asked Mr. Dong to ask questions?

It's not impossible. It's hidden in the city and experiencing life. Now the rich people like to play like this.