Twenty minutes past the highway tollgate, the neon-drenched towers of Tianhai Capital rose out of the rain along the riverfront. At the center of the financial bund stood the Cloud-Crown Five-Star Hotel and Marina, a forty-story glass-and-granite obelisk overlooking a harbor packed with white yachts.
Under the hotel’s gold-leaf porte-cochère, valets in red tailcoats were ushering provincial bankers out of Bentley and Rolls-Royce sedans.
Then the deep rumble of heavy refrigeration units echoed up the marble ramp.
Six white Taichu Express cold-chain vans pulled right into the VIP drop-off lane, followed by Lin Mo’s armored Maybachs. Beside the fountain, five earlier Taichu advance vans were already parked in the rain with yellow steel wheel-clamps locked onto their tires. Ten soaked Taichu drivers in blue windbreakers huddled under the narrow eaves, shivering after being barred from the lobby for three hours.
The sliding door of the lead cold-chain van clicked open.
Lin Mo stepped out onto the red carpet first, holding a large black umbrella. He reached back to help seventy-two-year-old Grandma Chen step down while Tie Niu lifted two steaming stainless-steel insulated vats out of the cargo bay. Su Wan stepped out behind them, her trench coat buttoned neatly over her charcoal suit and a leather legal portfolio tucked under her arm.
“Drivers! Come over here quick!” Grandma Chen waved her wooden ladle toward the ten stranded drivers huddled by the pillar. “Look at your lips, they’re turning purple! Line up with your bowls—I simmered fresh river-shrimp wontons in ginger-bone broth all the way from Jiangcheng!”
The ten drivers hurried over, wrapping their cold hands around the thermal bowls Grandma Chen ladled out. As the hot broth infused with [Culinary Vitality] hit their stomachs, color returned to their cheeks in seconds.
“Thank you, Grandma Chen! Chairman Lin! President Su!” Captain Zheng wiped the rain from his face. “We arrived at eight o’clock to deliver the transit permits for the Chamber of Commerce hearing. Lobby Director Wei locked our wheels and threw us out!”
Lin Mo glanced at the heavy yellow wheel-clamps bolted to the vans’ front tires, then up at the glittering revolving doors of the Cloud-Crown Hotel.
Locking my drivers out in the cold rain for three hours while waiting for us to beg at a hearing, Lin Mo thought calmly. They really think a five-star sign gives them immunity from basic math.
Inside the revolving doors, a sharp commotion broke out.
Lobby Director Manager Wei—a forty-year-old man in a pinstriped suit with hair greased back like wet lacquer—marched out onto the marble steps. Eight hotel security guards carrying rubber-coated riot batons flanked him.
Above Manager Wei’s slicked-back head floated a dull, grimy grey-black number:
[Target: Wei Dekun (Manager Wei) | Role: Cloud-Crown Hotel Lobby Director.] [Moral Integrity Score: 11/100 (Dropped 1 point tonight for freezing honest drivers; takes kickbacks from Song Zihao).] [Status: Snob Parasite — Ineligible for Refund.]
“Who let six more refrigerated garbage trucks onto my VIP driveway?!” Manager Wei pinched his nose with a silk handkerchief as if the aroma of Grandma Chen’s ginger-shrimp broth were toxic smoke. He pointed a trembling finger at Grandma Chen’s soup vats. “This is the Cloud-Crown Five-Star Hotel and Marina! Every square meter of this red carpet costs thirty thousand yuan! Are you country bumpkins from Jiangcheng running a soup kitchen on my front steps?!”
Su Wan stepped forward, her expression cool and professional as she held up a gold-stamped summons letter. “Manager Wei, Taichu Benevolence Group was formally summoned here tonight by the Jiangnan Chamber of Commerce for the shipping hearing. Furthermore, our advance team booked twenty standard rooms and paid in full yesterday. By what legal authority did you cancel their rooms and clamp our vehicles?”
Manager Wei let out a high, nasal laugh, looking Su Wan up and down with open disdain. “Legal authority? In Tianhai Capital, Young Master Song Zihao’s word is hotel policy! Our rooms are reserved for civilized guests, not mud-tracked truck drivers and old kitchen women smelling of pork fat!”
He snapped his fingers at the eight security guards. “Clamp all six of these new vans! And tip those two soup buckets into the street gutter!”
As the wind gusted sideways under the canopy, cold rain blew across the steps toward Grandma Chen’s silver hair.
Before the security guards could move, a twenty-one-year-old rookie concierge standing by the luggage cart bit his lip. He wore a slightly frayed bellhop uniform with a brass name tag reading Lin Xiaoyu (Xiao Lin). Seeing that Grandma Chen was the same age as his own grandmother back home, Xiao Lin grabbed a large gold-trimmed golf umbrella from the stand. He sprinted down the steps and held it firmly over Grandma Chen’s head.
“Grandma, step back toward the dry wall so the wind doesn’t catch you,” Xiao Lin said earnestly, using his own shoulder to block the cold spray from her soup vat. He turned toward Manager Wei, his voice shaking. “Director Wei! It’s ten degrees outside and raining hard! She’s nearly seventy years old, and these drivers already paid for their rooms! We can’t throw hot food into the street!”
Lin Mo’s gaze shifted to the young concierge. Above Xiao Lin’s cap shone a clear, steady emerald halo:
[Target: Lin Xiaoyu (Xiao Lin) | Role: Cloud-Crown Hotel Rookie Concierge.] [Moral Integrity Score: 91/100 (Supports his sick mother and sister on a ¥3,500 salary; respects working guests).] [Status: Verified Pure-Heart Beneficiary — 100x Refund Unlocked!]
“Why, thank you, young man,” Grandma Chen said warmly, ladling six fat shrimp wontons into a clean cup and pressing it into Xiao Lin’s free hand. “Here, warm your hands! Look how thin your uniform jacket is!”
Manager Wei’s face twisted into an ugly purple mask. “Xiao Lin! You third-rate intern! I warned you last week when you carried luggage for that broke tour group—one more stunt of cheap sympathy and you’re fired!”
Manager Wei snatched a heavy black security baton from the nearest guard’s belt. He strode down the steps and viciously backhanded his free hand across Xiao Lin’s left cheek!
SLAP!
The sharp crack echoed across the marble driveway. Xiao Lin staggered half a step as five red finger-marks swelled across his cheek, his cap falling into a puddle. Yet the boy planted his feet and kept both hands locked around the umbrella handle so it didn’t tilt an inch away from Grandma Chen’s silver hair.
“Still holding that umbrella?!” Manager Wei snarled, raising the heavy steel-core baton above his head to smash Xiao Lin’s forearm. “I’ll break your arm and deduct ten thousand yuan from your severance for ruining a VIP umbrella!”
“Careful, Xiao Lin!” Grandma Chen gasped.
Manager Wei swung the baton down with all his weight.
It stopped two inches above Xiao Lin’s sleeve.
Lin Mo stood beside the young concierge, his right hand casually wrapped around the head of the descending baton. He hadn’t even shifted the umbrella in his left hand.
“Let go!” Manager Wei tugged with both hands, his face flushing red as veins bulged on his neck. Yet the baton might as well have been welded into a mountain of iron. “Who do you think you are?! Security, hit him!”
Lin Mo didn’t look at Manager Wei. He simply twisted his wrist forty-five degrees.
CRACK-POP!
The composite baton snapped cleanly in half, and the rotational force wrenched Manager Wei’s right wrist out of its socket. With a shrill scream, Manager Wei dropped to his knees on the wet red carpet, clutching his dangling wrist.
When the eight hotel security guards raised their batons to rush forward, Tie Niu stepped out from behind the cold-chain van. The two-meter-tall commander crossed his arms over his barrel chest, his Rank 2 Peak aura rolling across the driveway like a tank engine.
“At the highway tollgate twenty minutes ago, I flipped an eight-ton Song Clan tow truck into a ditch,” Tie Niu stated in his booming, gravelly voice. “If you eight step closer, I will stack you inside the revolving door like firewood.”
The eight hotel guards froze in their tracks. Seeing the iron-like muscles bulging under Tie Niu’s wet tactical coat and the twenty scarred veterans stepping out of the Maybachs behind him, not a single guard dared to take another step.
Lin Mo tossed the broken half-baton onto the carpet in front of Manager Wei’s knees, then turned to Xiao Lin. Reaching into his pocket, Lin Mo pulled out a small jade jar of Dr. Gu Qinghe’s Jade-Dew Healing Salve and dabbed a cool green smear across the boy’s swollen cheek.
Within five seconds, the burning red handprint vanished completely.
“Thank... thank you, sir,” Xiao Lin stammered, touching his healed cheek in amazement. “You shouldn’t have hit Director Wei for me, sir. He’s backed by Young Master Song Zihao. He won’t let you check into the third-floor standard rooms now...”
Check into third-floor standard rooms? Lin Mo thought deadpan. With a ninety-one Goodness concierge standing right in front of me, why would I insult my System by booking standard rooms?
“Manager Wei just said standard rooms aren’t for us,” Lin Mo said, glancing at the tablet clipped to Xiao Lin’s belt. “Xiao Lin, you haven’t been taken off the hotel booking system yet, have you?”
“No, sir, HR doesn’t process terminations until nine tomorrow morning,” Xiao Lin said honestly. “My concierge tablet still has booking authority, and I get a five percent direct commission on walk-in VIP upgrades. Manager Wei only locked the third- and fourth-floor rooms in the system...”
“Forget the third floor,” Lin Mo said mildly. “What’s on the top three floors of this hotel?”
Xiao Lin blinked, looking up toward the glowing glass penthouse crown forty stories above. “Floors thirty-eight to forty are the Royal Presidential Wing & Sky-Garden Lounge. It has twenty-four master suites, a private hot-spring pool, a banquet kitchen, and a dedicated elevator. Because it costs six hundred and sixty thousand yuan a night, it’s been sitting empty for four months...”
“Empty for four months?” Lin Mo clicked his tongue. “What a waste of heating. Book the entire Royal Presidential Wing for thirty days. Write the guest registration under: Grandma Chen’s Canteen Crew & Taichu Cold-Chain Van Drivers’ Rest Lounge.”
The driveway went dead quiet except for the patter of rain.
On his knees, Manager Wei forgot his dislocated wrist for a second and barked a shrill laugh. “Haha! Twenty million yuan for a month in the Royal Presidential Wing?! Just to let van drivers sleep in it?! Stop bluffing in front of an intern!”
“Chairman Lin,” Su Wan reminded him briskly without blinking at the price, “thirty days at six hundred and sixty-six thousand yuan a day rounds to twenty million yuan including the twenty-four-hour butler surcharge.”
“Good, round numbers are easier on your accounting servers,” Lin Mo said. He pulled out his Taichu Black-Gold Benevolence Card and tapped it directly against Xiao Lin’s concierge tablet. “Swipe it, Xiao Lin. Since you’re the only staff member at this door who knows how to hold an umbrella for an elder, the five percent concierge commission is yours.”
Xiao Lin’s hands shook so badly he nearly dropped the stylus. When the black-gold card touched the NFC reader on his tablet, the screen flashed brilliant emerald green and printed a three-foot gold-foil receipt!
[BEEP! TRANSACTION APPROVED: ¥20,000,000.00 PAID IN FULL!] [BOOKING CONFIRMED: ROYAL PRESIDENTIAL WING (FLOORS 38–40) — 30 DAYS!] [CONCIERGE HANDLER: LIN XIAOYU (XIAO LIN — GOODNESS: 91/100)!]
Inside Lin Mo’s mind, the System’s golden chime rang out like a cathedral bell:
[DING! SPENT ¥20,000,000 ON VERIFIED PURE-HEART BENEFICIARY XIAO LIN (91/100) & TAICHU HONEST DRIVERS (86–90/100)!] [100X PURE-HEART CASHBACK TRIGGERED! +¥2,000,000,000 (¥2.00 BILLION RMB) DEPOSITED INTO PERSONAL LIQUID VAULT!] [CURRENT LIQUID VAULT BALANCE: ¥110,980,000,000 (¥110.98 BILLION RMB)!] [GOOD PEOPLE NETWORK: 10,006 (+1) | BONUS: +20,000 BENEVOLENCE MERIT POINTS!]
Spend twenty million to give Grandma Chen and my drivers a hot-spring nap, and pocket two billion in tax-free cash, Lin Mo thought pleasantly. Manager Wei really is my lucky mascot tonight.
Right then, Xiao Lin’s cheap smartphone in his pocket buzzed with an automated payroll text from the Cloud-Crown Hotel’s Swiss parent bank:
[Cloud-Crown VIP Clearing: Concierge Lin Xiaoyu (#0419), your 5% instant commission on the ¥20,000,000 Royal Presidential Wing booking—¥1,000,000.00 RMB—has been credited to your salary card!]
Xiao Lin stared at the seven-digit number on his cracked phone screen. His breath caught in his throat, and tears welled up in his eyes. His mother’s kidney dialysis debts and his little sister’s university tuition were solved in a single swipe because he held an umbrella over a kind grandmother.
“One... one million yuan commission...” Xiao Lin bowed ninety degrees to Lin Mo and Grandma Chen, his voice trembling. “Chairman Lin! Grandma Chen! From tonight on, I’ll guard your drivers’ luggage with my life!”
Beside the fountain, Manager Wei stared at the glowing green ¥20,000,000 PAID IN FULL banner on the lobby reception screen. Every drop of color drained from his face.
Any client who booked the Royal Presidential Wing for a full month was classified as a Diamond Sovereign Whale. Insulting a Diamond Whale meant instant dismissal and industry-wide blacklisting!
Behind him, the eight hotel guards quietly unclipped the wheel-clamps from their belts and stepped back from the Taichu vans. Two guards hurried forward to help the drivers carry Grandma Chen’s soup vats into the lobby!
“Wait—Chairman Lin! I had dust in my eyes!” Manager Wei crawled forward across the wet carpet, cradling his dislocated wrist. “I didn’t know you were a Presidential Wing VIP—”
Before Lin Mo could step toward the penthouse elevator, the slow sound of clapping echoed down the crystal staircase inside the lobby.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
Twenty bodyguards in black martial-silk suits—each radiating Rank 2 Internal Martial pressure—fanned out across the bottom of the staircase, blocking the elevators.
Strolling down the steps was a twenty-six-year-old man in a white Italian suit and burgundy crocodile-skin boots. He puffed on a cigar while an influencer in a sequin dress clung to his arm.
Above his head floated a rotting, pitch-black halo:
[Target: Song Zihao | Role: Eldest Young Master of the Song Shipping & Medical Clan.] [Moral Integrity Score: 8/100 (Monopolizing river docks, price-gouging drugs, orchestrating extortion).]
“Spending twenty million yuan to let truck drivers sleep in my hotel’s presidential suite?” Song Zihao blew a ring of cigar smoke toward Lin Mo and sneered. “Impressive show for a small-town upstart. Too bad you won’t be sleeping upstairs tonight.”
Song Zihao pointed toward the double doors of the Cloud-Crown Gold Banquet Hall on the second mezzanine.
“The Four Clans of Jiangnan are waiting inside,” Song Zihao said coldly. “Walk into that hall and sign over fifty-one percent of Taichu Group’s shares and shipping permits before midnight—or not a single truck, boat, or person with the Taichu name leaves Tianhai Capital in one piece.”