Next to Zhang Xiaofan's table, there sat an old man who seemed to be nearing the ancient threshold of seventy years.
He was alone at the table.
He appeared somewhat lonely.
However, the old man was dressed neatly and sat with a very straight posture.
He must be someone with a bit of status.
Of course, not everyone who comes here to eat is wealthy or noble, but at least seventy to eighty percent of them have money.
"Ahem!"
The old man coughed.
Zhang Xiaofan glanced over and felt that something was not quite right.
This old man had the appearance of someone whose candle was burning low, his remaining time... seemed quite short.
It was not natural aging... but sickness.
...
"What do you guys think, how much would it cost me to buy this restaurant?"
While eating, Zhang Xiaofan asked.
"Brother Xiaofan, do you want to open a restaurant?"
"I support you, I've had the same idea."
Li Tingting immediately expressed her support as soon as Zhang Xiaofan posed the question.
