Chapter 81: Chapter 80: Looked Down Upon
"Hurry, hurry, everyone look sharp! The big boss of Louis Vuitton China is coming to inspect our work today. You, Xiaoqi, pay attention! The big shot’s license plate is NB945, so make sure you’re on your best behavior when he arrives!"
While the security guards were rubbing their hands together, eagerly awaiting the arrival of the Louis Vuitton big boss, Fang Chenyi had already driven his Wuling van up to the Baida VIP storefront in the underground garage.
Fang Chenyi had passed by here before and wondered why Baida would open a store in an underground garage. Now he understood—this was their VIP parking lot.
’Looks like poverty really did limit my imagination.’ He had to admit, Baida was quite thoughtful in their arrangents.
BEEP.
The Wuling van pulled up to the glass door, but it didn’t open. Seeing this, Fang Chenyi honked the horn. ’Hasn’t Li Qian notified them yet?’ he wondered. ’Her efficiency is a little lacking.’
Just as he was wondering if he had overestimated Li Qian, the two guards standing ramrod straight beside the glass door frowned.
’We’re waiting to welco the big boss of Louis Vuitton, so where did this troublemaker co from? If the boss shows up now and gets stuck behind this guy, I’ll be packing my bags and getting fired for sure.’
"Hey, hey! Buddy, this is the VIP channel. Unauthorized vehicles are prohibited. Please leave imdiately and don’t block traffic!"
Seeing that the beat-up Wuling van showed no signs of leaving, the guard hurried forward to speak to the young man inside.
Fang Chenyi rolled his eyes in resignation. ’This is what I get for not driving a nice car.’ He finally understood. ’If I’d driven the Sesto Elento, this guard wouldn’t have dared to stop .’
"Heh, I know this is the VIP garage. This is my destination. Oh, right, I’m the owner of Louis Vuitton China. I had one of my people call ahead to notify you. Perhaps I’m just a bit early."
Although he’d been stopped, the guard’s tone was still reasonably polite, so Fang Chenyi explained patiently.
But to the guard, this explanation was just a load of crap. ’This guy is full of it,’ he thought. ’Never mind that his accent is clearly local, just look at the car he’s driving! A Wuling, worth maybe fifty or sixty thousand yuan, tops. Do you know the net worth of the Louis Vuitton boss? You think he’d drive a piece of junk like this?’
The guard figured the kid must have just overheard his captain’s orders on the walkie-talkie.
’Still, this guy has so real nerve. If you’d pulled up in a rcedes or a BMW, we might have actually believed you...’
"Look, brother, stop joking around. I’m not trying to put you down, man. I drive a Baojun myself. The boss of Louis Vuitton? Do you have any idea how much money he has? Let
give you a little lesson: rich bosses like that don’t drive themselves. They sit in the back. All right, all right, just hurry up and leave, buddy. The real boss will be here any minute. You don’t want to be embarrassed, and I don’t want my pay docked."
Ugh... Fang Chenyi was speechless as he watched the guard pull a surprisingly nice-looking car key from his pocket. ’Does my car really look that cheap?’ he thought. ’Sure, the outside looks like a Wuling van, but that’s where the resemblance ends. Everything inside, down to the last screw, is custom-built!’
"No, really, why would I lie to you? I’m honestly the owner of Louis Vuitton. Hey, how about you just call in my license plate number and ask?"
Seeing that the young man wouldn’t leave despite his friendly persuasion, the guard started to get annoyed. He was especially irritated when Fang Chenyi told him to report the license plate number.
’If I actually report that a Wuling van is here claiming to be the Louis Vuitton boss, my superiors would chew
out so bad it wouldn’t even be funny. I’d be lucky to just get yelled at.’
"Hey! What’s wrong with you, kid? Why are you being so difficult? Report your plate? Yeah, right! Let
educate you. We already got the notice—the big boss’s license plate is NB945! You hear that? A plate like that screams ’I’m the Best’! So damn imposing! Now let’s look at your plate... N-B-9... 9-4-5!!! HOLY SHIT! My god! ’I’m the Best’... no, no, YOU’RE the best, sir! You are! My mistake! Please, co in! Right this way!"
The more he spoke, the more animated he beca, his expression practically glowing with excitent as he described the big boss’s license plate. After finishing his "lesson" for Fang Chenyi, he took a step to the side to glance at the van’s plate. The mont he did, the guard froze, his mouth falling open and his eyes going wide as saucers.
To his credit, the guard was quick on the uptake. After a brief mont, he concluded that this couldn’t possibly be a coincidence. Once he confird the license plate was correct, his gaze shifted back to Fang Chenyi, and he suddenly saw him in a new light.
’He was handso, with a dignified air... he looked exactly like a successful man...’
Watching the guard’s antics, Fang Chenyi just smiled helplessly and shook his head. He stepped on the gas and drove the Wuling van into the now-open passageway.
Just as the Wuling van entered the passageway, the walkie-talkie on the guard’s shoulder suddenly crackled to life. A rough, angry voice burst out:
"Damn it! Old Wang, what the hell are you doing? What was that car you just let in? Huh? What car was it? You let a beat-up van into the VIP garage? If you’ve got a death wish, don’t drag
down with you!"
Hearing his captain’s roar from the walkie-talkie, Old Wang could only manage a wry smile.
"Captain, Captain... that car... it’s the Louis Vuitton boss’s car..."
In the VIP garage’s security monitoring room, the captain, who was staring at the screen, exploded when he heard Old Wang’s words. He almost threw the walkie-talkie in his hand.
"Bullshit! With his status, why would he drive that piece of junk? The boss should be here any minute, so you better get your act together! If not, don’t bother showing up tomorrow!"
Old Wang waited for his captain to finish yelling before ekly saying:
"It’s true, Captain. That car really belongs to the Louis Vuitton boss. You’ll know if you just look at his license plate..."
Though still furious, the security captain subconsciously zood in the cara feed on the beat-up van.
As the image enlarged, the beat-up van appeared on the high-definition monitor, reversing into a parking space. As his gaze drifted downward, a string of characters on the license plate ca into view:
"G... C... dot... N... B... 9... 4... 5... HOLY SHIT! GC-NB945??? This is really the fucking Louis Vuitton boss’s car??"
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