Divorced and Determined: The CEO’s Ex-Wife Fights for Love

The chubby boy, Zhou Weiwei, parked his little donkey and stepped into Liu Ji Snack Shop. The shop had just opened, offering a 20% discount on all items. Though the space was small, all eight tables were filled with customers.

"What would you like?"

Master Liu wiped the table with a greasy rag, haphazardly clearing away the mess left by previous customers before sweeping all the used meal boxes into the trash.

Zhou Weiwei frowned. The rag in Liu's hand was visibly dirty, clearly used on multiple tables without being washed. After wiping the table, it left streaks of oil and water stains.

Being a clean freak, Zhou Weiwei had always avoided street food—until he discovered Lu Qin's snack stall, which was exceptionally hygienic. It was the gold standard of cleanliness among street vendors.

So, the scene before him filled him with disgust.

But he couldn't just walk away. He needed to figure out what was going on with this Liu Ji Snack Shop.

He sat down without touching the recently wiped table.

"One order of stir-fried rice noodles."

"Just one order? You can try some of our other dishes. Our twice-cooked pork and crystal cake are also great," Liu suggested.

Zhou Weiwei shook his head.

"Just the rice noodles."

"Oh."

Seeing that the chubby customer only ordered one dish, Liu's attitude visibly cooled. He turned away and disappeared behind the curtain.

Zhou Weiwei took a deep breath. What kind of service was this? Order less and get treated poorly? How rude!

He took out a tissue to wipe the table himself. The tissue turned yellowish-brown from the grease. Disgusted, he tossed it into the overflowing trash can, which was surrounded by scattered napkins and meal boxes.

The hygiene here was atrocious! And this was supposed to be a grand opening? They couldn't even use the excuse of being too busy—hiring an extra hand or simply emptying the trash bin wouldn't take much effort.

Still, most street food customers weren't too picky about cleanliness. A bit of dirt was just part of the experience. Soon, the stir-fried rice noodles arrived, steaming hot.

The aroma was slightly weaker than Lu Qin's. The presentation was not as good either. A single lift with the chopsticks pulled up a massive clump of noodles. The ingredients were identical to Lu Qin's—egg, diced ham, and lean pork. But the price was 12 yuan, one yuan cheaper than Lu Qin's.

Zhou Weiwei was convinced this pricing was deliberate, meant to undercut Lu Qin. He took a bite and was instantly shocked.

It was incredibly similar—almost identical to Lu Qin's!

As a die-hard Lu Qin fan and a moderator of Lu's foodie group, Zhou Weiwei had been a loyal customer since Lu Qin's first day of business. He knew Lu Qin's flavors inside out. This Liu Ji version was very close in taste, but the texture was off. The balance of oil and seasoning wasn't quite right—it lacked the same refreshing aftertaste. Still, the flavor was impressively replicated. A high-quality knockoff.

The ability to mimic Lu Qin's taste so well was remarkable. No wonder the place was packed despite being new. It wasn't just the discount. Even more suspiciously, the menu was identical to Lu Qin's—clearly an attempt to steal customers.

Zhou Weiwei ordered a crystal cake next. Again, the taste was very similar, but the texture was lacking. Ordinary customers weren't food critics. Most weren't overly picky. As long as the food tasted good, minor differences in texture were tolerable. After all, this was street food, not fine dining. Who could afford to be so selective?

Without trying anything else, Zhou Weiwei could already guess—everything on the menu was just a slightly inferior copy of Lu Qin's offerings.

This shop should've been called "Lu Qin Snack Shop (Counterfeit Version)."

After Zhou Weiwei left, other customers began noticing as well.

Someone posted in the Penguin chat group.

…

A wave of customers rushed to Liu Ji Snack Shop. Seeing the influx of people, Liu Ji's boss grinned ear to ear. These must be customers stolen from Lu Qin!

His plan had worked—successfully diverting traffic from Lu Qin's bustling stall. That place had way too much foot traffic…

"Come in, come in! We have air conditioning!"

Liu even grabbed extra stools to accommodate the growing crowd.

"Haha! I'm gonna get rich!"

Liu gleefully went back to frying noodles.

Meanwhile, long-time customers started discussing.

"The taste is pretty good! Similar to Lu Qin's, just a little greasier."

"I don't mind. The line at Lu Qin is unbearable. Liu Ji is slightly worse but way more convenient!"

"It's really close in flavor. I'm not picky!"

"This fried rice noodle dish tastes kind of strange… is it just me?"

"Maybe we're just too used to Lu Qin's version. The mung bean dessert feels off too, but I can't pinpoint why."

"Whatever, as long as it tastes good. Better than waiting in line forever."

…

Back in Lu Qin's foodie group, discussions heated up.

…

For true loyalists, Lu Qin's food was flawless. But there was one big problem—those insanely long lines.

Many customers opted for Liu Ji instead. A knockoff was better than waiting. And clearly, Liu Ji's owner was no amateur. His ability to replicate Lu Qin's flavors meant he had serious cooking skills. So before Lu Qin's stall even opened for the day, a third of his customers had already been lured away by Liu Ji.