Part 3The Fall of the Fried Noodle King

I looked her in the eye. "Of course not."

I didn't go to the stall to argue. I didn't ask Sarah to confront him in the group.

I simply took a screenshot of the "You have been removed" notification and posted it in several 2,000-member campus-wide Discord servers and GroupMe chats.

"Looks like Brother Lee's Fried Noodles is over, guys. Let's disperse. Plenty of other food options near campus."

Lee had no idea his business was about to implode.

There are tons of food stalls outside the university gates. Three years ago, I was starving and dizzy, so I grabbed a $5 fried noodle box from the closest vendor. That was Brother Lee.

From then on, I was his biggest fan. I recommended him to everyone. I even suggested he start a WeChat group for pre-orders and promotions to get more customers.

Three years later, the price has gone up to $8, and he quietly kicked me out of the group.

I laughed in anger. Suddenly, I didn't like fried noodles anymore.

Sarah was analyzing the situation like a detective. "I remember! Last Friday and Saturday, you walked past his stall twice without buying anything. He must be salty about that."

I thought about it. "Probably."

Sarah muttered, "You can't let this slide. I'm so mad for you!"

I pulled up my blanket in my bunk. I knew Lee was in for a world of hurt.

Since I could bring him business, I could certainly take it away.