Chapter 11 Rich Lady: Reputation Damaged hua——flower, p……

.The sunset glow gradually faded, and cobalt blue dominated the sky.

Uncle Zheng led the way, and two staff members who were checking the snow melting system on the driveway walked towards the guest parking area.

The pavement layer of the driveway was loose, resulting in uneven heat conduction. During the heavy snow two weeks ago, only half of the snow on a section of the driveway melted.

At that time, Chen Che was driving out, and after passing that section of the road, his tires slipped, and the sports car he had just picked up had a close contact with the decorative statues on the roadside.

The eldest young master immediately frowned.

Although Chen Che did not scold anyone, Uncle Zheng still felt a lingering fear when he recalled the eldest young master's expression at that time.

On the side of the villa driveway, the embedded ground lights lit up one after another.

The light was not bright, and it was dim, forming a hazy light and shadow.

Uncle Zheng, who was discussing a solution with the staff, stopped suddenly and stepped on the ground lamp, thinking that the ground lamp was not bright enough, was there something wrong?

In a trance, he bumped into a wall of people.

Without having time to see who was coming, Uncle Zheng said "sorry" and quickly moved his foot away from the embedded streetlight.

Then he raised his head.

Suddenly, he saw a face.

The already dim light on the side of the road suddenly emitted a bright light. The streetlight miraculously recovered, and from bottom to top, the bright light outlined the face of the person.

There was not much expression on his face, a state of separation between the human soul. All the shadows of the facial features were stacked on top of the facial features contrary to the normal state.

"Ghost..." Uncle Zheng's cry was tortuous, and after seeing the person clearly, it finally stopped at "Young Master".

The eldest young master did not blame him, but sympathized with the old housekeeper: "Uncle Zheng, do you drink Hey Tea?"

Uncle Zheng was panicked: "Young Master, I don't drink milk tea, why don't you ask the Madam?"

"She is losing weight."

Shen Che could guess with his toes that at this moment, Queen Du was touching her empty belly, lamenting her ill fate.

The law of conservation of energy states that whatever you gain, you must lose. The slender Du Yuanshan hadn't had a full meal in over 20 years.

Not bothering with his beautiful, film-star mother, Shen Che looked at the two staff members and asked in English if they wanted Heytea.

The two staff members were elderly and had never heard of Chinese milk tea brands, and the two foreigners had never even heard

of milk tea. To Uncle Zheng's surprise, the usually arrogant young master tried hard to explain to the foreigners what pearl milk tea was.

"Pearls are small balls made from tapioca flour," Shen Che said patiently.

Foreigner A smiled: "I'm allergic to tapioca flour."

"You can leave it out," Shen Che suggested. "Let's go to the Pacific Mall downtown. I'll treat you to milk tea."

Foreigner B thanked him: "Bro, I'm allergic to milk. Do you have milk tea made with goat's milk?" Shen

Che retracted his smile and grumbled in Chinese: "Wild boars can't stand fine bran."

The staff drove away.

Seeing the young master lingering in the garage, Uncle Zheng kindly reminded him, "Young master, isn't it time for the Pacific Mall to close? If you really want some milk tea, I'll have someone prepare it."

Overseas, unlike back home, stores often close earlier.

Unexpectedly, the young master suddenly snapped out of control and acted like a three-year-old, saying, "I want Heytea!"

Comrade Zheng, the all-around butler, had a brilliant idea: "Why not have the Heytea staff come to our house? Mrs. Cen's taking her children on a school trip soon, so we could have an afternoon tea party."

"No, I only want Heytea from the Pacific Mall basement."

"..."

The weather forecast predicted that a cold high pressure area in Prairie Province was moving eastward, bringing with it a rare scissor wind, and a significant drop in temperatures in the next few days.

But today was a warm, sunny winter day. Why would the young master snap out of control so early?

"Have you seen Mrs. Cen's child?" Uncle Zheng said, almost wishing he could hold up the inscription board. "You went to kindergarten with her when you were little." Chen Che

casually picked up a pair of car keys, no such person in mind.

"When you were little, you often came to our house to play, and she'd bring you Yakult." Uncle Zheng imagined a heartwarming scene of Elsa, a princess dress wrapped around a blazer.

"That kid's problem is drinking stale water." The car door swung up at an angle, revealing a futuristic scene. Chen Che ducked in, "I only like Heytea."

Uncle Zheng: "Hey, I'm a girl!"

The young master, considerate of his employees, lowered the window.

A hundred dollars in foreign currency peeked through the gap a few centimeters away, and a lazy voice slid out: "Go to Asia Supermarket and buy as much Yakult as you can. Take it all."

"..."

"Take her all she wants."

Boom—the sound wave stirred up dust in the driveway, and the cold black tail wing, like a sharp blade, materialized the air.

It was like a storyboard from a comic book line drawing.

The sports car cut a silver-gray shadow in the night, its sound waves echoing through the night sky. Passersby returning home stopped to watch, lamenting the vast gap between the rich and the poor.

The young master, who had started his nightlife, hurried to the mall.

Ten minutes before closing time.

The Korean restaurant owner, working the cash register, was confronted by a face.

This demon.

The owner, cautiously protecting the cash register, reached down with his right hand, groping for the alarm button below.

"Where's Heytea?"

The Korean restaurant owner, surprised by the demon's refined attire, no longer the shabby look of his daytime workday, was also taken aback.

He knew Heytea; the new store opening had brought him a lot of customers.

The mid-century salami milk tea shop was indeed a force to be reckoned with.

The owner mumbled something and pointed in a direction.

"Thank you."

The demon was surprisingly polite, leaving the Korean restaurant owner stunned again.

Heytea

.

The shiny shaker reflected the smiling faces of the shop assistants—hardworking workers about to leave.

Another was handling discarded ingredients.

Suddenly, dark clouds descended over the order counter.

The shop assistants' worst fears had finally come true. The clouds spoke, signaling a storm. "A cup of succulent green grapes, thank you."

"Uh," the foreigner handling the waste stopped.

Chen Che peeked at the plump green grapes in the waste bucket, his throat choking with anger. "Gone?"

The clerk replied, "We're closed..."

The tall customer glanced at the time and argued, "The mall closes in five minutes. It's okay if there are no succulent green grapes. I want something else."

The clerk shrugged, "Fine! I can even make you another cup of Green Beauty Light Lemon Tea without the toppings."

Leaning against the counter, Chen Che exported a screenshot of a winning lottery ticket from someone else's Penguin Mailbox and flashed it to the clerk. "Badge, give it to me,"

he said, sounding like a scoundrel collecting a debt.

The clerk replied, "Here, here, here, here."

He ran into his old man after work, wiping the reflective countertop, which was once again stained with water. The clerk was filled with frustration.

Chen Che received a piece of metal, smaller than a finger bone.

That's it? He frowned, picking up the badge between his fingertips and playing with it. It

was a small milk tea-shaped item, about the size of a Young Pioneers badge.

He'd driven twenty minutes to get here, and received such a shabby thing?

"Anything else?" he asked.

The clerk looked down on him, thinking he was such a man, and he picked it up. He pulled down his apron, revealing the dangling straps festooned with shining badges, which clashed together with a loud clang.

Milk tea, green grapes, red pomelo, milk jasmine... the designs from the same series were all very similar.

Chen Che couldn't tell the difference: "Aren't they all the same?"

The clerk thought he was nitpicking: "How are they the same? The colors are different, and the particles at the bottom of the cup are different too."

He didn't know if it was an illusion, but the customer's mood worsened after he mentioned the colors.

Chen Che placed his fingertips on the menu and drew a few vertical lines: "This row, this row, this row, one cup of each, to go."

"..." The two clerks exclaimed, "Oh my God, was this guy sent by Satan to torture them?"

After learning they couldn't make more without toppings, Chen Che said, "So what do you have? If you can, make it."

Clerk One said he couldn't, but didn't want to make Wu Ni's father feel bad. "Sorry, we only have milk."

Clerk Two, acting as the atmosphere, raised a regretful tone and explained to the customer, "Besides milk, we only have water."

"Okay, then 20 cups, and help me get two sets of badges."

"..."

"Problem?" Chen Che said coldly. "Close in two minutes, there's still time to place an order."

The mall's doors slowly descended, customers streamed out, and businesses closed one after another.

A young man, hands full of takeout bags, passed by a Korean restaurant and happened to run into the owner leaving work.

The man held the bags high, and the kindhearted donor said, "Hey, I'll treat you to some Heytea."

The owner, clashing back and forth in Korean and English, silently gave him a "good guy" card.

Slurp—a sip.

Hmm, bland?

The boss opened the lid of his Heytea and double-checked. It was a cup of Mu'er tea, without a lemon slice or toppings

.

Water.

Nothing at all—

water

.

Badges lined up in two rows, overflowing like soldiers in formation.

The general, eager to share his wonderful shopping experience, pulled out WeChat.

Group messages numbered over 99.

[Zombie: Where's everyone? What time is it there? Are you asleep? I'm flying next week to meet you for ice fishing.]

Chen Che ignored his childhood friend's message, scrolling down only to realize he didn't have Chi Leyou's WeChat.

He opened his inbox. He

attached a "group photo of badges," but before sending, he pulled his finger back, halting his childish display.

Ten badges, two complete sets—someone would surely be jealous.

Chen Che singled out the Bobo Milk Tea badge, took a photo of himself verifying it, and sent an email.

His fingertips circled the steering wheel.

He exited his inbox and re-entered.

Emails: 0.

"Aren't you a student?" He straightened his lips. "Haven't you been abroad for years? Haven't you developed the habit of checking emails?"

Chi

Leyou brought out two plates of spicy rice cakes and a jar of kimchi. "Watermelon, it's time to eat."

"Damn, carbohydrates and nitrites..." Park Ye-jin muttered, but before Chi Leyou could, she eagerly shoved a newspaper onto the small table. She

'd gotten the newspaper from the next door.

The front page headline read: Chinese film queen Aria Du signs at Pacific Mall, fans from around the world gather, the atmosphere briefly spirals out of control.

The newspaper quoted an Asian woman's face.

Chi Leyou, who hadn't read Chinese entertainment for eight centuries, glanced at the newspaper. "Hey, are our Chinese stars that big?"

"Hey, weren't you at Pacific Mall today?" Park Ye-jin asked.

"I went to work." Chi Leyou remembered being dragged by a friend to see off a celebrity after work, and that's when she connected the story with the celebrity in the newspaper.

Park Ye-jin was heartbroken. "You can't see anything?!"

"My glasses are broken," Ji Leyou said, picking up her food bowl. "I'm so tired after work. I've fallen asleep standing up several times, and Aria's crazy fans woke me up."

A large ball of kimchi flew from the sky and landed squarely on Ji Leyou's food bowl.

Park Ye-jin picked up a piece of rice cake and chewed it. "Tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk, a major error! This report must have been written by a foreigner with Asian face blindness."

"Huh?" Ji Leyou didn't understand.

"That's Lee Young-ae from Dae Jang Geum in the photo," Park Ye-jin said, swallowing the kimchi rice cake. "Ouni's acting is good, and she's pretty too."

"Huh? So what does Aria Du look like?" Ji Leyou had some impression of Aria. When her online friend Brook asked her if she was a fan, she apologized and said she didn't know her.

So Aria Du was a big star, appearing in foreign newspapers?

"She's prettier than Lee Young-ae." Putting aside her patriotic feelings, Park Ye-jin was as serious as a meticulous notary.

Chi Leyou's heart turned into a bright red arrow, passing through the earth and pointing in the direction of the motherland. The blood flowed, and he was filled with the pride of his compatriots.

"So how is her acting? It must be great!"

A piece of kimchi fell on the newspaper, and Park Yejin was silent.

"Huh... ? Is her acting just average?" Chi Leyou picked up a piece of rice cake.

Park Yejin tried to organize her words: "I think the new word you taught me can be used on her."

Chi Leyou: "Which word?"

Park Yejin pronounced clearly: "hua - flower, p-ing - bottle."

"..."