Chapter 65: The Mysterious Restaurant

Xia Long and Xia Hu stood nearby as time slipped by unnoticed. Suddenly, Xia Hu exclaimed, “Who would have thought raising fish and turtles could be so interesting!” The group burst into laughter. Zhuang Chen stood up, washed his hands clean, and teased, “So you’ve finally come around?”

“Don’t be fooled by their leisurely pace—it’s actually a kind of attitude towards life. And most importantly, they’re easy to care for, not delicate; thriving in their native environment is the real secret.”

A look of realization crossed Xia Long’s face. His mind was sharper than Xia Hu’s, and he roughly understood why the boss favored these pets. Wasn’t there a saying:

Pets resemble their owners?

Dinner was settled at Shi Le Hui, the food was decent, nothing outstanding. Tonight, they stayed at Jiujian Tang—the first time in a Chinese-style villa. The spaciousness was a delight; the money hadn’t been spent in vain.

He took out his phone, dialed a private number, and said, “Reserve a table for me at Ultraviolet.”

Ten minutes later, the reply came: tomorrow night at eight, Bund 18, depart together. Zhuang Chen shook his head; he’d never seen a restaurant so ostentatious.

They only served ten guests a night, the menu was fixed, you ate whatever they gave, and bookings had to be made three months in advance. The minimum charge per person was five thousand.

There was no specific address; you couldn’t go on your own. Guests gathered at a designated spot, then were driven to the dining location.

Michelin two-star, the world’s only immersive restaurant, awarded Asia’s Best TOP50 two years running, ranked first in China.

Ultraviolet—the Violet Light Restaurant.

So mysterious!

Ding Mengyao recommended it, though even she had only heard of it in rumors. Zhuang Chen was curious, but after the experience at Tang Court, he hoped it wouldn’t be all style and no substance.

The next day he slept until he woke naturally, swam at Shi Le Hui, enjoyed lunch, lounged in the courtyard feeding fish and soaking up the sun, then set out for the city at dusk.

Bund 18, downstairs from Mr & Mrs Bund, another restaurant by French chef Paul Pairet. At the entrance, a dedicated business van waited for the guests bound for UV.

Once everyone had arrived, the van followed the banks of the Suzhou River, twisting through several winding alleys, finally stopping in a creative complex converted from a run-down old factory. They got out and were led to a building that looked like a warehouse.

Xia Long and Xia Hu remained vigilant throughout, wary of any danger. Zhuang Chen chuckled, patted the brothers on the shoulders, and followed the crowd into the warehouse.

The hall was unexpectedly reminiscent of a sci-fi lab from The Matrix—tall white walls, pure white everywhere, futuristic, not even a window.

In the high, white space, at the very center, was a setup like a conference room: a giant white table and ten white chairs.

Overhead, seven projectors and a series of magnesium lights; the air was laced with unfamiliar spices. The setting felt like a film studio for a futuristic movie.

Purple lights shone on the table, each guest’s name appeared—a rather flashy touch. Zhuang Chen reached his seat, and as the group settled in, the room abruptly plunged into darkness.

The large screens on all four walls lit up. The room seemed to rapidly sink; a man’s urgent narration echoed, reminiscent of the opening of an American sci-fi film. The descent accelerated, the images on the walls changed swiftly...

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Welcome to Ultraviolet!

Spotlights flashed on; Chef Paul made a dazzling entrance. Xia Long and Xia Hu exhaled deeply, faces full of exasperation—was all this drama really necessary just to eat?

“Our restaurant has launched three tasting menus over five years: UVA, UVB, UVC. Each menu is divided into four chapters. Tonight is Menu C—the first chapter is ‘Ocean’.”

The first course arrived, accompanied by shifting lights and shadows. The dish used dry wood for cooking, employing primitive methods, featuring wild abalone perched on a stone. A touch of lime and grapefruit provided flavor; the abalone was soft as jelly, richly seasoned and delicious.

After tasting it, Zhuang Chen was quite satisfied—not just with the food, but with the sincere effort in the environment. High-tech everywhere, dining as an immersive experience, brimming with creativity.

This was true Michelin strength—Tang Court paled in comparison.

During the Beach Boys Camp Fire segment, it felt as though real flames were roasting nearby. Eating seafood, you could almost kick the fine sand beneath your feet. It was truly fun.

For the forest picnic, the chef brought sod, a picnic basket, wooden stumps, and sandwiches that one had to assemble personally, right to your table.

When the lobster was served bathed in seawater, guests were transported to the seaside, surrounded by waves and the cries of seagulls. The chef walked the room holding a steaming pot infused with salty sea water.

The whole chapter felt like a playful camping adventure, especially the mushroom segment. Fresh mushrooms were grilled and seasoned right in front of Zhuang Chen using a high-temperature torch.

Two chefs roasted them live—tender, smooth, tangy, each guest got a slice. During intermission, they were led to another secret room—a bar.

Red lanterns hung, dozens of candles of all sizes flickered, echoing the theme “Candle in the Wind.” Antique plum blossom plates, hundreds of candles floating overhead—the atmosphere was haunting.

Suddenly, a side door opened; several chefs, acting like authentic Singapore hawkers, called out, inviting guests to buy snacks. The style shifted dramatically, almost making Zhuang Chen’s head spin.

Everyone took a plate. In the center of the table, fried garlic chips, black pepper sauce, and condiments were freely available. Especially the watermelon in the black pepper beef dish—it was such an imaginative pairing that even Zhuang Chen was amazed.

Suddenly, a screen displayed a roast duck shaped like a cola bottle, swaying back and forth, and the sweet scent of cola filled the air. The main dish—Cola Roast Duck—finally appeared.

The lighting simulated fire dancing over the duck. Zhuang Chen tried a bite—utterly astonishing. Was the crispy skin coated in cola powder?

Fragrant and crisp, perfectly fused with cola, it was a marvel worthy of acclaim!

At the end of the banquet, the screen rolled credits like a movie finale: chef, sous chef, sponsors, and the guests’ names, as if everyone had participated in creating a magnificent work.

The service left a deep impression on Zhuang Chen as well. Four hours of dining, with two intermissions and a backstage kitchen tour.

The servers were friendly, talkative, without standardized professional smiles or deferential manner; even their uniforms were blue-collar—casual suits with jeans.

They treated you like family. Here, you didn’t need to put on airs—relaxed, at ease, able to fully enjoy the food.

Making guests comfortable is the essence of great service.