Top Grade Immortal Emperor in the Flower City

Twenty minutes later, Ye Ling arrived at Mo Xing's doorstep driving a flashy red BMW X6.

The place where Mo Xing lived was a government compound, where residences were arranged according to rank, and naturally, the Mo Zidao family had the strength to live in Building #1.

Ye Ling emerged from Building #1 with a sullen face, cursing as he got into his car.

"Are you freaking out or freaking dying? I was having dinner with my old man, and you're flapping your gums, threatening to skin me alive, and making my old man laugh at me for a while."

Mo Xing was furious. Given Mo Zidao's status, he naturally knew about Ye Ling's situation and didn't restrict his son from associating with Ye Ling; in fact, he encouraged it.

At his level, his perspective was naturally different from ordinary people. Without a doubt, he was a central pillar of the Mo Family, a supreme member at the pinnacle of power.

However, it was clear that Mo Zidao no longer had the fortune of officialdom, and among the third generation of the Mo Family, it was difficult to find a distinguished successor, as no family can thrive forever without decline.

But as long as Mo Xing could foster a good relationship with Ye Ling and the two could become sworn brothers, then the Mo Family would undoubtedly be able to maintain a steady footing at the top.

Ye Ling was also very displeased, "Don't talk so much, I want to eat a full Manchu Han Imperial Feast!"

"Have you gone mad with hunger, or is there a famine? Why are you acting like a weasel who's never seen meat?" Mo Xing was somewhat depressed; this guy seemed crazy.

Ye Ling shook his head in distress and recounted his experiences to Mo Xing, "Talk about frustration, a yet-to-be-born little brat is actually taking my place."

"How miserable am I that I'm eating just hamburgers and fried chicken legs at night? What a joke. Who am I? I'm a freaking wealthy man," Ye Ling said with his head held high and prideful demeanor.

Mo Xing gave him a glance, "I can't be bothered to talk so much with you, come on, buddy, I'll take you to a nice place."

"A nice place? Not interested, your highness just wants to eat right now, I don't want to get involved in your nonsense. Right now I can't even satisfy the few tigers at home, so where do I have the spare energy to feed others?"

Ye Ling shook his head straight away. What nice place, what not so nice place, at this moment he just wanted to eat, to have a good meal.

"Pfft, what are you thinking? I'm talking about a place to eat, and let me tell you, that place, tsk tsk, it's considered the Holy Land in the hearts of Donghai City's upper society."

Mo Xing chuckled with a mysterious smile. Ye Ling felt somewhat depressed. Was this guy crazy today too? Talking about the Holy Land of the upper society, it's just a chef.

"Hehe, I'll tell you, this place called 'Imperial Chef' was converted from an old house. Their dishes are all booked in advance, at the very least three days early."

"Imperial Chef only serves eight tables a day, and then keeps two tables just in case. I'm telling you, even my old man has to make a reservation to eat there."

Upon hearing this, Ye Ling was immediately surprised. To think there were people in Donghai City so bold that even the Secretary Mo Zidao had to make a reservation to eat there—he must be quite a fearless guy.

"Only eight tables a day? And reservations are required? Quite the attitude. How's the business?" Ye Ling inquired.

He understood that it was similar to the marketing for high-end smartphones: a hunger marketing strategy to show people that even with money, they couldn't just buy it, and what can't be bought is always considered the best.

"How's the business? I'm telling you, ordinary folks simply aren't qualified to enter, and even if you make a reservation half a month in advance, Imperial Chef's tables might not be available," Mo Xing said.

"Many people take pride in being able to dine at Imperial Chef once."

Mo Xing explained disdainfully at Ye Ling, casting a glance at him. What a newly rich man, acting like he's never seen the real world.

"Damn it, is their food laced with gold or silver?" Ye Ling gritted his teeth.

Mo Xing chuckled, "The owner's surname is Xiong, and he's the third eldest at home; everyone calls him Xiong San. Me? I call him Third Brother."

"Brother San? Why don't you call him Brother Xiong San?" Ye Ling was taken aback, wondering why this guy wasn't following the crowd.
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Mo Xing shook his head, "I'm wondering if a dog ate your intelligence today or what. Who in the whole Donghai City has the damn right to make me call him 'Master'?"

Well, he had a point. Ye Ling thought about it and nodded. Indeed, no one in Donghai City would dare unless they were tired of living.

"Let me tell you, this Brother San's grandfather used to cook for that old lady who declared war on eleven countries all at once. The craft was passed down to him—imagine how amazing that is?"

Mo Xing chuckled. Ye Ling knew who that old lady was—the one who squandered the Qing dynasty's centuries-old foundation.

It gave internet jokesters one more line to add, "What? The Qing dynasty fell?"

Damn it, your Qing dynasty fell a long time ago, alright? I know you're just playing dumb, but is it really funny?

"He's just an Imperial Chef, but from what you're saying, his cooking does seem pretty good. Let's go try it." Ye Ling nodded. An Imperial Chef, no small deal.

Mo Xing nodded and gave Ye Ling a location, "Let's go, his Manchu Han Imperial Feast is his specialty. I got him to prepare us a Buddha Jumps Over the Wall dish, taken from the reservations for a few days from now."

Whoosh—a red flame streaked through the night like a sprite. Three minutes later, the BMW stopped on the side of the road.

Had they reached their destination?

Wrong. The two were stopped by traffic police for speeding. After getting out of the car, Mo Xing arrogantly asked, "You don't recognize me? Don't know who I am?"

The traffic policeman nodded seriously, "You are suspected of speeding. Now, please present your vehicle registration and driver's license."

"Aye! With my explosive temper, once I get riled up, not even I can control myself. It looks like you're asking for trouble. Do you even know who I am?"

Mo Xing rolled up his sleeves and shouted, while Ye Ling quickly tried to stop him, "Enough, stop disgracing the old man of your family. What a disgraceful spectacle."

"Hey, brother, here are my documents. Tell me how you want to penalize us, and we will accept it." Ye Ling said with a slight smile.

Mo Xing became anxious right away, "Hey, you jerk, it was you driving the car, wasn't it? What the hell does it have to do with me? Damn, now you're dragging me into this."

"You really have no shame, I've seen shameless people but never one as shameless as you." Mo Xing said, his face turning red with anger.

Ye Ling turned and yelled, "Shut your mouth, you disgraceful thing."

"Sorry, officer, for startling you," Ye Ling quickly added.

If you've broken the law, you should accept the punishment. Why the act? As if you think you own this country or something.

"Alright, a six-point deduction and a fine of two hundred. Be more careful when driving in the future. Life is precious, and if something goes wrong, it's your family that suffers."

The traffic officer paused and then added, "And next time, don't forget to take your friend's medication."

After finishing his words, the traffic officer walked away. Mo Xing stomped with anger, "Hey, who are you calling out? Come back here, you're asking for it with my explosive temper."

"Get back here!" Ye Ling shouted vehemently.

Mo Xing returned to the car, dejected and displeased. Why should they say that about him? It was like getting shot while lying down.

Half an hour later, they arrived at an old mansion in the suburbs—the place known as the Holy Land.