Chapter 97 The King of Hired Managers

On Sunday, Duan Mingxiao sent a message to Cong Chun.

The young master leaned back on the sofa in the large apartment, his joints clearly defined and strong, tapping away at his phone screen.

Duan Mingxiao crossed his long, straight legs, making even the sofa seem a little cramped.

Next to it was a large floor-to-ceiling window, with bright lights shining outside. It was located in the most prosperous area of ​​Jinghai. Before they knew it, the message had been sent to Cong Chun.

(Come watch my racing training session on Sunday.)

Duan Mingxiao's car has been recently modified, and its performance is more than twice as stable as before.

A short while later, Duan Mingxiao received a reply from Cong Chun.

(Excuse me, young master.)

(I found a new job, and I'll be starting work on Sunday.)

Cong Chun also posted a meme of a baby sun, with a foreign baby's face in the center of the sun, looking happy and somewhat kind.

Cong Chun recently found a job at a Western restaurant near the school. It's a part-time job for students, and he only needs to work seven hours a week.

In addition, he also found a tutoring job with flexible hours.

Cong Chun wants to get a new computer with higher specifications so that he can take on some practice design jobs online in his spare time.

It's a high-end Western restaurant near Yenching University called "Baroque".

When going to work, you need to wear a white shirt and black pants, and your own shoes must be dark-colored.

The staff at the Western restaurant also wear dark-colored half-length aprons with the restaurant's brand logo printed on them.

Cong Chun's first day riding his electric scooter to work.

I unexpectedly ran into someone at the restaurant.

Why is the young master here, wearing the same work clothes as me?

Cong Chun's droopy dog-like eyes showed a hint of doubt, and the boy stepped forward softly to ask.

"Young Master, what are you doing here?"

The young master leaned against the kitchen door frame, his obsidian earring on his right ear gleaming coldly under the indoor lights.

Duan Mingxiao raised an eyebrow slightly, his tone ending with a hint of nonchalance.

"Can't I, this young master, experience life for myself?"

"Besides, it's very expensive for me to build a racing team, you know."

[Silly Chun, you look quite cute in this outfit today. It's a matching set with what I'm wearing.]

The next second, a waiter from a "Baroque" Western restaurant walked past him. Duan Mingxiao looked down at his clothes and frowned.

[Why is this outfit exactly the same as what I and that stupid Chun are wearing?]

Ugh, it's an eyesore.

The young master's sharp, knife-like gaze fell on the waiter, who involuntarily shivered.

A little while later, the supervisor sent a message in the work group to gather the new staff members and give them some instructions.

The next second, everyone was present.

The supervisor, however, looked rather strange, and cold sweat was involuntarily breaking out on his back.

The manager's surname is Wang, and he is also a local from Jinghai City. He has been working at this restaurant for five or six years.

Although Duan Mingxiao was wearing the same work uniform as Cong Chun, the young master was giving orders to Manager Wang in front of him.

"Bring me two chairs."

Manager Wang immediately and politely brought over two chairs for this young master.

Duan Mingxiao sat down without any hesitation.

Immediately afterwards, the young master lazily lifted his eyelids and glanced at Cong Chun beside him.

He patted the leather chair beside him, inviting Cong Chun to sit down as well.

Cong Chun looked at him, puzzled, thinking that the young master disliked the dirty chair, so Cong Chun eagerly followed Duan Mingxiao and patted it.

Duan Mingxiao pursed his lower lip. The young master suddenly stood up, lowered his eyebrows, and exuded a strong sense of oppression.

Even though the young master was wearing an apron around his lower body, most of his long legs were still exposed.

Most people's aprons are worn around their bodies, and the length extends to their ankles.

Duan Mingxiao sulked at Cong Chun's actions.

[Silly Chun, from now on, if you purse your lips, it's to seduce me.]

Duan Mingxiao pressed Cong Chun into his seat and then sat back down himself.

Before Cong Chun could react, he unconsciously relaxed his lips upon hearing the young master's words.

Immediately afterwards, Duan Mingxiao looked up at Manager Wang in front of him, his tone relaxed.

"What's wrong? Tell me."

It was as if Duan Mingxiao wasn't the person who came to do the work, but rather the boss of the place.

That is indeed the case. This Western restaurant is owned by the Duan family, whose business scope is very broad.

Manager Wang gave a fawning smile, wondering what had gotten into this young master that made him want to work at the restaurant.

It now seems that the other party didn't come here to work at all; the idea of ​​experiencing life was pure nonsense. Duan Mingxiao came here to be an "emperor."