Clearly, every one of these people had brought their own private Bodyguards.
The moment they stepped down from the booth, several men in black suits hurried over to regroup around them.
Just as they reached the bar entrance, Wang Sheng was already there, having parked the red flag car and two rolls-royces front and back at the curb.
In no time, seven or eight Bodyguards strode out from the side and swarmed beside the rolls-royces.
Compared with the others, the Bodyguards around Jiang Cheng were deployed even more tightly; sentries stood at every corner of the bar, watching every move.
The moment Jiang Cheng made the slightest motion, they would radio it in.
These Bodyguards were professionally trained—not only agile but also highly alert and adaptable.
Their presence lent the whole scene an air of solemn majesty.
The onlookers buzzed with chatter, eyes full of envy, jealousy, and resentment fixed on the Bodyguards.
'Holy crap!! Bodyguards ride in a rolls-royce?'
'Damn, I've lived thirty-odd years and never once sat in a Rolls—am I cut out to be a Bodyguard?'
'I swear, do rich folks get their money from the Bank of Heaven? Their cash feels like it's in a whole different currency than mine.'
…Seeing people at the entrance start to raise their phones to film, not only Jiang Cheng's Bodyguards but the Bodyguards of the others strode forward and blocked the cameras.
Confronted by more than a dozen hulking men forming a wall, the would-be photographers quietly pocketed their phones.
Wang Congcong, walking out behind Jiang Cheng, spotted the red flag car at the curb and immediately let go of the two Girls, heading straight for it.
'Holy crap, Jiang Cheng—so this ride is yours now?' Wang Congcong stared at the red flag sedan, eyes brimming with envy and resentment.
Jiang Cheng nodded. 'Yeah, no choice—they insisted I drive it.'
Seeing Jiang Cheng's smugness, Wang Congcong said sourly, 'You sound so reluctant. If you don't like it, how about selling it to me?'
'Sure—once you get the paperwork sorted.'
'Damn, that's a low blow~~ Forget it, I'll just hitch rides with you when I'm abroad.' Wang Congcong sighed in resignation; he wanted it badly but could only give up.
Seeing Wang Congcong's open admiration, He Youjun couldn't help asking, 'Brother Wang, is this car really that hard to buy?'
Wang Congcong nodded vigorously. 'Hard? Even with money you can't get one! Looks ordinary, but it's a special model—this is a life-saving car.'
At those words, He Youjun and Zheng Zhigang instantly understood.
Their own families owned similar vehicles; they knew exactly what it signified.
'So that's how it is—it's a badge. This is a red flag car, right?' He Youjun asked curiously.
Jiang Cheng smiled and nodded, confirming he'd guessed correctly.
He Youjun added, 'Brother Cheng, your plate looks a bit like my dad's—both have the number one.'
Jiang Cheng chuckled. 'I've heard your dad's plates are all single digits, and even the villa on Hong Kong Island is Number One.'
Ever since TikTok took off, he'd swipe daily not only clips of 'other people's wives' but also news flashes about these business titans.
Big data pushed luxury watches and supercars at him, along with every wealthy clan under the sun.
After all, it's an age where traffic rules; gossip bloggers will dig up your ancestors for clicks.
He Youjun nodded. 'Yeah, he says you should always try to be first, so whether it's cars or houses, he only wants Number One.'
No one argued when He Youjun spoke up for his father.
Everyone present knew that, at the end of the day, only money could buy such plates and villas.
Without cash, how do you fight for first place??
Wang Congcong kept smiling. 'Look at your family—so rich and still so driven. I hear you're MIT's youngest finance PhD—amazing!'
Hearing the topic turn to himself, He Youjun answered candidly, 'Wow, Brother Wang, I didn't expect you to know that. Honestly, I never thought you'd notice. Ugh, talking about it really bothers me. Lots of people have asked me the same thing—though not in so many words, I know they wonder whether my degree was bought or earned. Usually I tell them it's real, but I can tell they don't fully believe it.'
His reply caught Jiang Cheng's attention, and he gave He Youjun an extra once-over.
He'd defused the matter with a joke, neither servile nor arrogant.
Sure enough, right after, Zheng Zhigang said, 'You took the UK-wide Maths Olympiad test before enrolling; what did you score again?'
'I got 109.'
Gasps rippled through the group.
Full marks were 120; scoring that high in a nationwide British contest was stunning.
Zheng Zhigang added, 'After that you represented the school in higher-level contests—even I thought you were awesome.'
Wang Congcong cut straight in. 'That's insane. Don't laugh, but like everyone else, I figured you bought it—look at me, that's exactly what I did. How many Second-generation rich kids in China have genuine credentials? I never expected a real top student—talk about face-slapping.'
He threw an arm around Jiang Cheng's shoulder and grinned. 'Heh, looks like only the two of us are academic duds.'
Jiang Cheng was speechless.
'Damn, I feel kind of insulted, but I can't really argue.'
Of the four, Jiang Cheng's schooling did sit at the bottom.
But he didn't much care.
At his current stage he no longer needed a diploma as a door-opener.
As for vanity credentials, Jiang Cheng couldn't care less.
If you don't rely on merit, spending years abroad just to buy a degree?
That would be a pure waste of time and life.
Everyone burst out laughing at his words.
Zheng Zhigang chuckled. 'You two don't chase empty titles. If you did, it'd just be a matter of money. I say you're the ones living free and easy.'
He Youjun laughed along. 'Actually, I envy you guys—life's relaxed, free, no pressure. Look at Brother Cheng—still in school yet already driving a car like this; his family must really value him.'