I couldn't take it anymore; when I went home for Chinese New Year, the family genealogy book ha

"Don't like it?"

Zhao Youcai stared wide-eyed, as if he had heard the funniest joke of the century. His eyes, which were swollen from years of drinking, were wide open.

"Jiang Chen, are you still half asleep, or are you deliberately trying to pick a fight with me?"

He pointed at Jiang Jianjun, his voice filled with undisguised sarcasm.

"Ask him what kind of cigarettes he usually smokes? One-yuan-a-pack dry tobacco! That stuff is like burning cow dung; it'll blacken his lungs!"

"Now, I offer him a pack of Zhonghua cigarettes that cost over sixty yuan, and he says he's not used to it? Is his throat delicate, or has he never smoked good cigarettes before and is afraid of choking on them?"

Aunt Wang Xiuqin chimed in sarcastically from the side.

"Exactly! Young people these days, they're all so arrogant! Jianjun, I'm not trying to be mean, but you really need to discipline your son. He has absolutely no manners!"

"You should be grateful you have a pack of Zhonghua cigarettes; why are you being so picky? Besides, your lungs have been stained black from smoking dry tobacco for half your life; they're probably as black as the bottom of a pot by now, aren't they? And you call them precious!"

This back-and-forth banter made Jiang Jianjun's face turn red and white, wishing he could disappear into the ground.

Wang Xiuying was so angry that she trembled all over and was about to slam her hand on the table and get up.

Jiang Chen gave her a wink, signaling her to calm down.

Jiang Chen remained seated calmly in his chair, his face showing no sign of anger.

He simply and silently reached into the pocket of his seemingly ordinary down jacket.

Everyone's attention was involuntarily drawn to his movements.

Under the curious yet disdainful gazes of the crowd, Jiang Chen took something out of his pocket.

It was a flat, shiny, all-gold hard-shell cigarette box.

Under the dim light in the main room, the cigarette box seemed to have its own light source, shining with a domineering light that made people afraid to look directly at it!

In the very center of the cigarette box, a golden five-clawed dragon, embossed with hot stamping techniques, coils and dances, lifelike and vivid.

Below the dragon are four ancient and imposing seal script characters.

【Nanjing - Supreme Ruler】!

The mocking smile on Zhao Youcai's face froze instantly.

He was a heavy smoker. Although he already felt proud to smoke Zhonghua cigarettes, how could he not recognize this legendary "King of Cigarettes"!

This stuff costs 100 yuan a pack, and you can't just buy it whenever you want!

They are usually only seen occasionally at dinner parties hosted by real big bosses or government officials.

For him, it was more than just cigarettes; it was a symbol of status!

Jiang Chen ignored Zhao Youcai's ghost-like expression.

He slowly and deliberately used his fingernail to scratch off the transparent seal on the cigarette pack, the movement as elegant as if he were unpacking a precious work of art.

"Sizzle—"

A soft sound.

He took out his first cigarette, but instead of smoking it himself, he stood up and respectfully walked to his grandfather, who was sitting in the seat of honor and had been silent all along.

"Grandpa, please try this."

Grandpa glanced at him, then at Zhao Youcai, who was standing there dumbfounded. A hint of a smile flashed in his cloudy eyes. He nodded and took it.

Jiang Chen took out a second one and personally handed it to his father, Jiang Jianjun, and lit it with a lighter with a "snap".

Jiang Jianjun was somewhat flattered. He looked at the cigarette in his hand, then at his son's encouraging eyes, hesitated for a moment, and then, imitating those big bosses, took a deep drag.

A rich, mellow smoke with a unique woody aroma instantly filled his mouth and lungs.

So smooth! It went incredibly smoothly!

The smoke glides down your throat without any spiciness or irritation, only a warm and soothing sensation that makes you feel completely comfortable!

Jiang Jianjun's face, flushed with embarrassment, gradually relaxed amidst the swirling smoke.

Only then did Jiang Chen sit back down in his seat, as if he had just remembered that Zhao Youcai was next to him. He casually tossed the packet of "Supreme 95" cigarettes, which he had only smoked two of, onto the octagonal table.

The golden cigarette box and Zhao Youcai's red pack of Zhonghua cigarettes next to it formed an extremely stark and ironic contrast.

"Uncle."

Jiang Chen's voice remained calm.

"It's not that I'm arrogant, it's just that I've really spoiled my dad's voice lately."

"This Supreme 95 has a mellow taste, full-bodied smoke, and a sweet aftertaste. Most importantly, it doesn't burn your throat."

He paused, glanced at the pack of Zhonghua cigarettes on the table, and shook his head.

"As for this cigarette... to be honest, it's too strong, and the aftereffects are great. If you smoke too much, you'll get intoxicated."

Jiang Chen looked at Zhao Youcai's face, which had turned into a palette of colors, and gave him a bright smile.

"If you like this, don't be shy. I also have two cases of Feitian Moutai and ten packs of this stuff in the trunk of my car, which were originally prepared as New Year's gifts for you and your uncles."

"If you don't mind, you can take it all when you leave."

"Would you like some?"

These three words were like three extremely loud slaps to Zhao Youcai's face!

Didn't you just use a condescending tone to tell my dad to "have a taste"?

Now, I'll give you ten of them directly!

Don't you think that Soft Zhonghua cigarettes are prestigious?

Sorry, but to me, this thing is even considered a bit cheap to give as a New Year's gift!

Zhao Youcai's hand trembled uncontrollably.

He looked at the unlit Zhonghua cigarette in his hand and suddenly felt it was burning hot!

He felt like a clown showing off his few hundred dollars in savings to a billionaire!

"Cough cough."

Grandpa, who hadn't spoken until now, took a deep drag, then slowly exhaled a string of beautiful smoke rings, squinted his eyes, and delivered his final judgment.

"Hmm, this cigarette is not bad."

"Gentle, not harsh."

Grandpa's simple five words were like the last straw that broke the camel's back, completely shattering Zhao Youcai's psychological defenses.

Silently, he put the soft Zhonghua cigarette in his hand, along with the newly opened packet on the table, back into the pocket of his "designer" leather jacket.

That action was filled with endless embarrassment and humiliation.

The atmosphere in the room instantly became incredibly eerie.

Wang Xiuying felt incredibly happy watching this scene; it was even more satisfying than drinking an ice-cold soda on a sweltering summer day!

She suppressed a laugh, picked up a piece of stewed pork belly until it was tender, and put it in her son's bowl.

"Chen'er, hurry, eat more meat!"

As she spoke, she glanced meaningfully at Zhao Youcai, who was sitting opposite her, looking restless.

"Look how tired you are, driving and getting cigarettes."

"Oh, right," Wang Xiuying added, as if she had suddenly remembered something.

"Look how much your uncle is craving... oh, no, he's just bored."