Super Doctor - Chapter 68

Zhao Qilong finally snapped out of the daze induced by Xu Ze’s verbal strike, but he still couldn’t wrap his head around one thing—how the hell did Xu Ze know French?

“A country bumpkin who didn’t even major in foreign languages… How could he speak French so fluently? And with better pronunciation than mine—someone who spent two years in France? That’s impossible!” Zhao Qilong muttered to himself, unable to accept reality.

No matter how he spun it, Zhao Qilong was seething. His plan to humiliate this little apprentice had backfired spectacularly, only earning Sun Lingfei’s displeasure. Talk about a wasted effort.

Suppressing his frustration, Zhao Qilong composed himself after ordering and shot Sun Lingfei a pointed look. “I never expected you to fall for a guy like him.”

“Who I like is none of your business.” Sun Lingfei scoffed, her voice icy. “Let me make this clear—I’ll never like you, not now, not ever. So give up and stop bothering me.”

“Lingfei, you’re breaking my heart.” Zhao Qilong’s face twisted into an exaggerated pout. “Our parents want us together. Remember how well we got along in France? Why did you change after starting university?”

“Pfft—” Xu Ze nearly spat out his water at Zhao Qilong’s theatrics, stifling an awkward chuckle.

That single laugh shattered Zhao Qilong’s carefully crafted sorrow, leaving him fuming. He shot Xu Ze a glare before turning back to Sun Lingfei.

“In France, you were just someone my parents asked to look after me. There was never anything between us.” Sun Lingfei’s expression darkened. “‘Changed my mind’? Don’t make it sound like we were ever involved. You’re disgusting.”

She stole a glance at Xu Ze, relieved to see his calm demeanor, then doubled down.

Exposed, Zhao Qilong sneered. “What does this kid even have? A pretty face? He’s just some penniless nobody—”

“Shut up, Zhao Qilong!” Sun Lingfei cut him off. “I like Xu Ze because he’s better than you in every way—kinder, more driven, more considerate. So drop it. I’ll never like you.”

“Kinder? More driven? Considerate?” Xu Ze rubbed his nose, amused. “Do I really have that many virtues? I hadn’t noticed.”

Zhao Qilong, however, wasn’t laughing. Face contorted with rage, he jabbed a finger at Xu Ze. “Him? A good person? Sun Lingfei, don’t be fooled! He’s just a two-faced—”

A waiter approached, politely interrupting. “Sir, please lower your voice. You’re disturbing other guests.”

Zhao Qilong froze, realizing his outburst had drawn disdainful glares from nearby diners. His face burned. French restaurants prized ambiance, and his tantrum had branded him a boorish outsider.

Luckily, the arrival of their food eased the tension. Zhao Qilong simmered down, allowing Sun Lingfei and Xu Ze to enjoy their meal in peace.

When the waiter presented the chilled white wine for inspection, Zhao Qilong waved him toward Xu Ze with a smirk. Let’s see how the country boy handles this.

Normally, tasting was a mere formality—confirming the wine’s quality. But Zhao Qilong wanted to test Xu Ze further. How does a broke student know French cuisine and wine?

Xu Ze accepted the challenge. He lifted the glass, swirled it gently, observed the legs, then inhaled the bouquet. After a slow sip, he nodded approvingly and addressed the waiter in flawless French:

“A 1998 Bordeaux blend—70% Ugni Blanc, 30% Colombard. Excellent.”

The French waiter’s eyes widened. Without checking the label, this young man had identified the vintage, region, and grape composition—a feat only master sommeliers could pull off.

“Your praise honors us, sir,” the waiter replied, pouring the wine with newfound reverence.

Zhao Qilong and Sun Lingfei stared, stunned.

Lavella was Star City’s most authentic French restaurant, staffed entirely by native French servers. Their respect was earned, not given—yet this waiter regarded Xu Ze with outright admiration.

Xu Ze had not only pinpointed the wine’s details with precision but had done so effortlessly. Zhao Qilong’s jaw hung slack; Sun Lingfei’s eyes sparkled with delight.

Today, Xu Ze had shattered every expectation. His fluency, his culinary knowledge, and now his uncanny palate—each revelation left Zhao Qilong reeling.

What Zhao Qilong didn’t know was that with Xiao Dao’s vast database, analyzing wine composition was child’s play.

But for now, Xu Ze simply sat poised, every inch the seasoned connoisseur, while Zhao Qilong’s plans crumbled to dust.