Grenville Harper felt uneasy in the carriage, as if he was a prisoner about to be executed, waiting for his fate.

The more I think about "King of New York" Chen Yigeng's recent performances, he feels as if he has fallen into an ice cave.

Will he suddenly shoot himself?

Will he use that advanced horse poker to hold against his forehead, forcing himself to overdraw his connections? Or simply let himself turn the lining of his pocket to the sky, grabbing and squeezing out the last cent of himself?

This is completely necessary to worry, after all, this is a crazy era.

Maybe ordinary criminals don't have the strength to force a diplomat like him with a wide network of contacts.

But the problem is that Chen Yigeng is a madman.

In anxiety, the carriage followed the tall horse in front to Carnell Street.

Carnell Street and Wall Street are both main streets in lower Manhattan. They are about 1.6 kilometers apart, which is not too far apart.

Zhao Chuanxin in front raised his hand. The driver stopped the car and turned around to knock on the window.

Grenville Harper straightened his back, grasped the collar of his suit, and grasped the folds.

This is usually impossible because he pays great attention to his appearance and dress.

Three muscles bulged on the back of his pale hand.

I got off the carriage somewhat reluctantly.

There is a unique carriage on the street in front.

The carriage only has a window on one side. The window is open, with a sun visor on it, and a dining table made of maple wood is supported below.

In addition, a sign made of walnut wood was hung vertically, which read - Xinghui Fast Food.

Below are a few rows of small words: lobster sandwich, chicken sandwich, salad sandwich...

There were many people lined up outside, including workers with mustaches and overalls, white-collar workers with suit jackets on their arms, Chinese people wearing Chinese coats and long braids...

Zhao Chuanxin handed the reins to the coachman: "Look at the horse for me."

The driver didn't know Zhao Chuanxin's identity and rolled his eyes: Why?

This is how Westerners are. Even if they work for the boss and the boss is doing the work, as long as it is not their own responsibility, they will not help the boss to beat or shave the beard or anything like that.

What about an outsider?

Zhao Chuanxin stared and handed the reins to the coachman: "You bitch, if my horse runs away, I will break your legs today."

The driver was not angry, but looking at Zhao Chuanxin's figure, he didn't dare to curse.

Grenville Harper was startled: "Look at the horse and do this seriously. This is very important."

The coachman was confused: Why is it important?

Zhao Chuanxin put one hand in his pocket and grabbed Grenville Harper's arm with the other: "Let's go get in line."

Grenville Harper was very curious about the dining car, but with his wealth, he definitely wanted to eat in a decent place like a restaurant, so he frowned.

But I dare not refute.

But in my heart I am habitually disdainful.

Zhao Chuanxin took him to the end of the queue.

He touched his pocket, took out the cigarette case, and found that he only had the last cigarette.

"Did you bring cigarettes?"

"Bring it."

Zhao Chuanxin took a look and saw that it was a Camel brand. He took one and lit it, and put the rest in his pocket.

Grenville Harper: "..."

Zhao Chuanxin asked him again: "Do you have any cigars?"

"There is one more."

He thought about it and took it out.

Zhao Chuanxin snatched it away, pretending to be casual and muttered: "When I fired the gun, I was only smoking a cigar, and I happened to have no cigar on me."

"..." Grenville Harper's expression changed drastically.

You haven’t killed anyone in a few days, right?

Zhao Chuanxin asked him again: "What do you think of this food truck business?"

Grenville Harper thought about it seriously: "It's novel, convenient, and fast, but queuing here is unworthy of a gentleman..."

Zhao Chuanxin interrupted him: "Just ask, will this food truck make money?"

Grenville Harper looked at the number of people in line: "Yes!"

Zhao Chuanxin stopped talking.

Soon there were two people in line.

Zhao Chuanxin looked at the owner of the dining car. He was an honest and friendly Chinese man with eyebrows and was quite festive.

He searched around in his pocket, took out a seven-cent coin and handed it over: "Have a lobster sandwich."

Grenville Harper opened his mouth slightly: Come all the way here just to buy one?

He coughed, took out the banknotes and handed them over: "No, let's have three more."

"Why do you have the nerve to ask you to spend money?" Zhao Chuanxin frowned, coughed and said: "Since all the flowers have been spent, let's get six more. Three is not enough."

"..."

The Chinese boss heard it funny, but tried his best to endure it.

He spoke in Chinese: "Sir, this New York is really the land of phoenixes. As long as there are no white people suppressing it, none of us Chinese can be prosperous."

Zhao Chuanxin said happily: "Are you a relative of Li Xiling?"

The man raised his eyebrows.

In this three-acre area, there are only a handful of people who dare to call Li Xiling by his first name.

"Yes, sir, may I ask your name?"

"Let's call me Chen Yigeng."

"Chen...Chen Yigeng?" The man's hands trembled and he almost dropped the knife and shovel. "Oh, Mr. Chen is here, how can you collect the money? Xiaowuzi, please return the money quickly."

Grenville Harper didn't understand why, and saw that the other party actually took out the money from the money box and prepared to return it.

Zhao Chuanxin stretched out his hand to stop him and winked at them: "No, haven't you seen this white man taking advantage of others and spending money? Will he be happy if you return it to him without understanding the charm?"

The man laughed: "That's very true."

Zhao Chuanxin asked: "How is business?"

"Thanks to Mr. Chen, the food truck business is doing very well. I will be able to build a big house in New York by this time next year! Mr. Chen has really invented a good business. How is Mr. Chen's brain so strong?"

What about?"

At this time, the helper named Xiao Wu was playing with a steam coffee machine. The coffee machine made a sharp whistle and sprayed out water vapor.

At this time, New York was no longer so hot, and water vapor immediately condensed on the glass.

In a foreign country, Zhao Chuanxin suddenly felt like he was eating at a breakfast stall in China.

He said in English: "I think there is no need to change the remaining money. Give us two cups of coffee with sugar and milk."

"Okay! Give it to Mr. Chen, high and high, and the coffee will be spiked!"

This boss is also a wonderful person.

After getting sandwiches and coffee, Zhao Chuanxin and Grenville Harper left with the boss's warm greetings and sat down on a nearby bench.

Zhao Chuanxin said while eating: "Well, it tastes really good. It's rare in the sky and hard to find on the ground."

Grenville Harper took a taste. Although the taste was not bad, what Zhao Chuanxin said was too exaggerated.

He asked: "Do you know the owner of that restaurant truck?"

"Recognize it? Did you see the sign? Xinghui Fast Food. I own Xinghui Catering Company."

"..." Grenville Harper suddenly realized.

But is it really okay for you to sell melons like this?

Zhao Chuanxin took a sip of the hot coffee, and the mellow liquid swirled on the tip of his tongue. After the heat subsided slightly, he sipped it.

"What do you think is the future of this kind of catering?"

Grenville Harper stopped chewing: "You just want me to find someone to invest in this?"

"Yes, when there is a good project, the first thing I think of is my best friend, which is you."

Grenville Harper is somewhat immune to Zhao Chuanxin's words.

He lowered his head and muttered: "With the current economic downturn, this sandwich only costs 7 cents. If the profit is considerable, it is indeed very profitable."
To be continued...