The ruthless boss's face trembled with anger; his store, combined with the property, was worth at least three million. Adding the employees and the goods on hand, even a fire-sale price would command six hundred thousand. Even in unfavorable market conditions, a total of five million would still be needed.
The quiet calm of the cafe was shattered, and amidst the ongoing piano music, many patrons turned their attention toward this scene. The waiter looked distressedly at Su Ziceng's table, unsure whether to intervene.
"Your body is full of fat; just starving could tide you over for a while, I wonder if your family could survive it," Su Ziceng said nonchalantly, ignoring the visible rage about to erupt from him, and sipped on his soda water, relishing its coolness: "It's easy to switch from frugality to luxury, but difficult the other way around, this is something even a second-generation rich kid like me understands."
