Australian Wagyu beef, French foie gras, caviar, and black truffle.

Plus a dessert and a drink.

It didn't seem like much, but the per-person cost already exceeded ten thousand.

These delicacies were quickly served at Zhang Jingshan's table, where the three of them sat.

Originally, Zhang Jingshan wanted to introduce the dishes to Ye Chen.

But little did he expect Ye Chen to take the initiative and start eating without any hesitation as soon as the food was served.

The way he expertly handled the knife and fork, paired with the elegant demeanor while dining, left Zhang Jingshan dumbfounded in an unintentional moment of self-doubt.

Was this really the type of idle gambler who dreamt of striking it rich overnight?

"Mr. Ye, how do you find the food here?" Zhang Jingshan couldn't help but ask.

"The steak is fine, but it was thawed for too long. As for the foie gras, they used too little brandy during the curing process. The caviar is fresh and delightful, but the black truffle slices were cut too thick."

With graceful movements, Ye Chen tasted each dish and commented indifferently.

However, as soon as he spoke, Zhang Jingshan froze.

Though born into wealth and privilege, Zhang Jingshan was a straightforward person. To him, food was simply either good or bad; he could never articulate its nuances.

When he asked Ye Chen for his opinion, it was just to see if he found the food palatable, not expecting such a detailed critique.

Was Ye Chen bluffing, pretending to know more than he did?

Zhang Jingshan instinctively looked at Li Changfeng.

While Zhang didn't understand these intricacies, Li Changfeng, a true foodie, certainly would.

But as he glanced over, he noticed Li Changfeng's expression was one of shock.

Li Changfeng had dined at Champs-Élysées multiple times before.

Every time, he felt something was off with the flavors but couldn't pinpoint the exact issue.

Hearing Ye Chen's remarks now was like a revelation.

"The steak was thawed for too long, and too little brandy was used for the foie gras..."

It dawned on Li Changfeng that Ye Chen's critiques perfectly explained the flaws he'd sensed in the dishes.

"Mr. Ye, are you also an expert in fine dining? I've been to Champs-Élysées many times and always felt something was slightly amiss with their food, but I could never figure out why. Now, after hearing your assessment, everything suddenly makes sense!"

Finding a kindred spirit, Li Changfeng exclaimed excitedly.

"I wouldn't call it expertise—just a picky palate," Ye Chen replied modestly.

Beside them, Zhang Jingshan was completely dumbfounded.

Did Ye Chen really get it right?

How could a penniless, gambling addict detect the flaws in such high-end cuisine?

Impossible. It seemed the information he had on Ye Chen must have been inaccurate.

Meanwhile, Li Changfeng was deeply impressed by Ye Chen's insight.

"This isn't something you can detect with just a 'picky palate,' is it?"

Li Changfeng instinctively felt Ye Chen was being humble.

"What line of work are you in, Mr. Ye?" Li Changfeng inquired.

"Work? For now, I'm just an unemployed drifter living off the wind," Ye Chen chuckled.

"Unemployed?"

Li Changfeng turned to Zhang Jingshan.

The latter awkwardly coughed and explained, "I only met Mr. Ye yesterday. Our connection came from that string of prayer beads I told you about."

"Oh," Li Changfeng nodded.

Somehow, the more he heard, the more mysterious Ye Chen seemed.

For someone who could point out flaws in a single bite of high-end Western cuisine, there were probably only a handful of people in Jiangzhou's elite circles who could do the same.

Someone like Ye Chen couldn't possibly be a simple man, Li Changfeng thought.

He decided to stop probing further about Ye Chen's background. At least for this first meeting, he had a favorable impression of him.

The lavish meal ended in a harmonious atmosphere of conversation and laughter.

The trio walked out of Champs-Élysées.

"Mr. Ye, are you heading home now, or do you have other plans? I can give you a ride," Zhang Jingshan offered.

"No need; I'll just hail a cab. Don't trouble yourself," Ye Chen politely declined with a smile.

Then he remembered Li Changfeng's car accident from his previous life.

Turning to Li Changfeng, he asked, "Mr. Li, did you drive here?"

"Yes, why do you ask?" Li Changfeng responded, puzzled.

Zhang Jingshan was equally confused.

"It's nothing. I just noticed Mr. Li's face looks a bit off. It might be better to ride with someone else today. Also, if you have time, you should get your car thoroughly checked—just in case," Ye Chen suggested.

He knew this comment about "facial features looking off" made him sound like some kind of charlatan, but he couldn't help it.

If Li Changfeng had been just another passerby, Ye Chen wouldn't have bothered to warn him.

But Li Changfeng had been someone Ye Chen admired for his charitable deeds in his previous life. Moreover, he was the CEO of Yinuo Corporation.

Saving Li Changfeng could also smooth the path for Chen Yinuo in the company.

"Mr. Ye, you're not joking, are you?" Li Changfeng frowned, looking serious.

"Is this another one of your predictions?" Zhang Jingshan asked, stunned.

"I'm not joking. Mr. Li, I recommend you take my advice. My intuition is usually spot-on."

With a smile, Ye Chen clasped his hands in a gesture of thanks toward Zhang Jingshan. "Thank you for the meal today, Mr. Zhang. I'll take my leave now."

With that, Ye Chen walked away and got into a taxi, leaving Zhang Jingshan and Li Changfeng in a daze.

"Changfeng..."

Zhang Jingshan swallowed nervously.

"Old Zhang, are you expecting me to believe what he said?" Li Changfeng furrowed his brow.

"It's better to be safe than sorry. I think we should take precautions," Zhang Jingshan said.

"When did you become so superstitious? You're not usually like this. Besides, my car is practically brand new—barely 5,000 kilometers on the odometer!" Li Changfeng was still skeptical.

"This isn't about superstition. If Ye Chen hadn't brought it up, fine, but since he did, doesn't it leave a nagging doubt in your mind? If nothing happens, great. But if something does, how would you feel then? It won't hurt to be cautious. Let me give you a ride home, and later, you can have someone check the car."

Without giving Li Changfeng a chance to refuse, Zhang Jingshan dragged him toward a bright red Porsche Panamera.

Li Changfeng could only chuckle helplessly but eventually relented.

An hour later.

Two men drove a brand-new Ferrari 911 out of the Champs-Élysées parking lot.

"Damn, slow down! Zhang specifically told us to drive carefully. Slow, really slow!" the man in the passenger seat shouted as soon as the speedometer hit 100 km/h.

"What's the big deal? Zhang is just being overly cautious. This car is brand new—barely 5,000 kilometers on it. What's the point of checking it?" the driver retorted dismissively.

"I'm just following Zhang's orders. Two options: slow down, or let me drive!" the passenger countered.

"Fine, fine. I'll slow down, alright?"

Unwilling to surrender the wheel of the pristine Ferrari 911, the driver reluctantly eased off the gas.

The speed dropped to 60 km/h when suddenly, a taxi ahead swerved lanes without signaling.

"Son of a—switching lanes without signaling! Is that taxi trying to fly?"

In a panic, the Ferrari driver slammed the brakes.

But nothing happened.

"What the—!"

He stomped on the brake pedal again.

Still no response!

Bang!

The Ferrari crashed into the rear of the taxi.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The out-of-control Ferrari pushed the taxi forward, colliding with three more private cars before finally coming to a halt.

The scene was a complete mess.