Strings of waterproof amber lights shimmered across the glass dome of the Tianhai International Boat Show Pavilion. Inside the heated exhibition hall, champagne corks popped as twenty domestic yacht brokers and river-barge dealers gathered around the central VIP stage to toast Song Zihao.
Holding a fresh cigar between his fingers, Song Zihao raised a crystal flute of vintage sparkling wine while Manager Wei stood beside him with his dislocated right wrist wrapped in a silk sling.
“A toast to Young Master Song!” a fat barge broker in a velvet blazer shouted, bowing low. “With one phone call, every boat dealer in Tianhai tore up Taichu Group’s cargo leases! That country upstart Lin Mo can give his crippled fishermen fifty million yuan, and they’ll still have to swim across the river with their shrimp crates on their backs!”
Laughter rippled across the VIP stage.
Song Zihao swirled his wine and smirked toward the rain-streaked glass wall overlooking Berth Nine. “A small-town bumpkin from Jiangcheng doesn’t understand the first rule of a provincial capital. Money without connections is just paper. In Tianhai, the water belongs to the Song Clan. Let him beg at every booth in this hall—nobody will sell him a wooden oar.”
Beside him, Tiffany—who had changed out of her champagne-stained sequin dress into a white fur shawl—clung to Song Zihao’s arm and sneered. “Wait until he walks in here and finds out even the inflatable dinghies are off-limits!”
Just then, the heavy glass sliding doors at the north entrance of the pavilion glided open.
Lin Mo strolled in out of the rain alongside Su Wan, Tie Niu, Captain Old Hai, and rookie concierge Xiao Lin, who had officially quit the Cloud-Crown lobby to carry Grandma Chen’s thermos bag.
Before Song Zihao could call out an insult from the stage, an angry roar in French and accented Mandarin erupted from Flagship Booth One near the harbor glass wall.
“Escrocs! Bandits! You are not businessmen, you are river pirates!”
A fifty-eight-year-old French master naval architect in a navy-blue cashmere coat stood there, his silver beard bristling with fury. He was tearing a thick stack of Song Shipping dealership contracts in half and throwing the scraps onto the marble floor! Behind him stood twelve calloused European and local master hull-craftsmen (Goodness: 82–87/100) holding toolboxes, their faces tight with anger and exhaustion.
Lin Mo paused, his [Pure-Heart Eye] automatically scanning the silver-bearded Frenchman:
[Target: Monsieur Pierre Laurent | Role: Chief Naval Architect of Marseille Azure Yachts & Master Shipwright].
[Moral Integrity Score: 88/100 (Forty years of uncompromising marine engineering; builds storm-proof hulls; refuses to cut corners on crew safety)].
[Status: Verified Pure-Heart Beneficiary — 100x Refund Unlocked!].
Standing across from Monsieur Laurent was Song Zihao’s deputy exhibition broker, Broker Sun (Goodness: 13/100), who was folding his arms and laughing in the old Frenchman’s face.
“Tear up whatever you want, Monsieur Laurent!” Broker Sun sneered. “Your thirty flagship Azure-68 European Superyachts are already moored in our Tianhai customs slip! Young Master Song says the timber grain on your mahogany sundecks is ‘half a shade too dark,’ so we’re deducting twenty million yuan in hull-finishing fees! If you don’t pay the twenty-million-yuan penalty by midnight, your twelve craftsmen won’t even get their return plane tickets!”
Monsieur Laurent’s hands trembled with rage as he pointed out the window toward the thirty sleek, sixty-eight-foot white-and-mahogany European superyachts bobbing in the illuminated exhibition basin.
“Half a shade too dark?!” Laurent thundered. “My twelve master shipwrights worked fourteen hours a day for three months hand-polishing Burmese teak and military-grade Kevlar-carbon hulls! Song Zihao signed a twenty-million-yuan finishing contract, and now he fabricates a defect to steal my craftsmen’s wages and force us to dump our thirty yachts at half price?!”
“Who told you to bring thirty superyachts to Tianhai without bowing to the Song Clan?” Broker Sun smirked. “Either swallow the twenty-million-yuan deduction and sell all thirty yachts to Young Master Song at half price, or let your shipyard go bankrupt when European banks call your loan at midnight!”
From the VIP stage, Song Zihao raised his glass toward Laurent with a mocking grin. “Monsieur Laurent, my offer of ten million yuan per yacht—half your retail price—expires in ten minutes. Nobody else in this hall dares to buy a single screw from you!”
Lin Mo looked at the thirty gleaming sixty-eight-foot superyachts moored outside the glass wall, then looked at Monsieur Laurent’s 88/100 emerald halo and the twelve honest hull craftsmen (82–87/100) standing behind him.
Thirty flagship European superyachts with military-grade Kevlar hulls, priced at twenty million each, Lin Mo calculated deadpan. Six hundred million yuan on the table, and a sixty-billion-yuan tax-free cashback waiting in the System vault. And Song Zihao thought he was blacklisting me.
Lin Mo walked past the velvet rope of Flagship Booth One with Xiao Lin and Su Wan at his side.
“Monsieur Laurent,” Lin Mo said in calm, clear English before switching back to Mandarin so the entire hall could hear. “Don’t throw away the blueprint folders with those torn contracts. I need them.”
Monsieur Laurent blinked through his anger, looking at the young man in the dark overcoat and rookie concierge Xiao Lin standing beside him. “Monsieur... Xiao Lin? We met in the lobby this morning when you helped my craftsmen carry their tool chests! Who is this gentleman?”
“Monsieur Laurent, this is Chairman Lin Mo of Taichu Benevolence Group,” Xiao Lin said earnestly, his chest swelling with pride. “He is the most upright gentleman in Jiangnan. He just booked the entire Royal Presidential Wing for his drivers and paid fifty million yuan to rescue our harbor’s retired navy divers!”
Broker Sun burst out laughing. “Chairman Lin! Did the rain waterlog your brain? Didn’t you hear Young Master Song’s announcement? Every commercial barge dealer in this hall has blacklisted you! Even if you wanted to buy a boat here, Laurent only has thirty luxury European superyachts priced at twenty million yuan each—six hundred million yuan total! What are you going to do with a superyacht, haul cabbage?!”
Lin Mo ignored Broker Sun completely and looked straight at Monsieur Laurent.
“Monsieur Laurent, I have three technical questions about your thirty Azure-68 vessels,” Lin Mo said seriously.
Laurent straightened his spine out of instinct when he heard a serious buyer’s tone. “Please ask, Chairman Lin!”
“First,” Lin Mo said, holding up one finger, “your hulls are reinforced with Kevlar and marine carbon fiber. If they run into river drift-logs—or an arrogant idiot’s boat—at forty knots in a storm, will they crack?”
“Never!” Laurent slapped his chest proudly. “Our hulls are built to North Atlantic rescue standards! Twin four-thousand-horsepower MTU marine diesel turbines, Force-10 typhoon stability, and ice-breaking bow reinforcement!”
“Second,” Lin Mo held up a second finger, “how big are the lower-deck wine cellars and jacuzzi lounges if we turn on the seawater circulation pumps?”
Laurent blinked in confusion. “Each yacht has a forty-cubic-meter temperature-controlled lower deck with live-seawater circulation originally designed for coral aquariums and champagne chilling...”
“Forty cubic meters with live water circulation?” Lin Mo turned to Captain Old Hai, whose eyes were shining behind him. “Captain Hai, how many tons of live river shrimp, wild sea bass, and hairy crabs can each yacht hold for Grandma Chen’s canteens?”
Captain Old Hai gulped, his scarred face flushing red with excitement. “At least fifteen tons of live shrimp per boat without a single prawn dying, Chairman Lin! And with twin four-thousand-horsepower turbines, my twenty brothers can run fresh seafood and cold-chain medicine from the estuary to Tianhai three times faster than any cargo freighter on the river!”
The entire exhibition hall went dead silent.
Up on the VIP stage, Song Zihao’s cigar nearly slipped from his fingers. “Wait... what did he just say?! Fifteen tons of live river shrimp... in a twenty-million-yuan European superyacht?!”
“Third question,” Lin Mo said, pulling out his Taichu Black-Gold Benevolence Card and handing it to Xiao Lin and Su Wan. “I’ll pay the full retail price of six hundred million yuan right now—twenty million per yacht. That includes the twenty million yuan in hull-finishing bonuses Song Zihao tried to steal from your twelve craftsmen. Can we take all thirty helm keys tonight?”
Monsieur Laurent’s breath caught. He stared at Lin Mo, then at his twelve exhausted craftsmen whose families back in Marseille and Tianhai were waiting for their wages.
“Six... six hundred million yuan in full?!” Laurent’s voice cracked with emotion. “Without deducting a single cent from my craftsmen’s finishing bonus?! Monsieur Lin, our Marseille shipyard holds the direct international manufacturer title—Song Zihao only had a consignment memo that he breached when he refused to pay our finishing fees! If you wire six hundred million yuan, all thirty superyachts are legally yours this very second!”
“You wouldn’t dare, Laurent!” Song Zihao roared, storming down the VIP stage steps with Manager Wei and Broker Sun at his heels. “And you, Lin Mo! Six hundred million yuan in liquid cash?! Nobody keeps six hundred million yuan sitting in a checking card at midnight! I dare you to swipe it!”
He’s daring me to print sixty billion yuan, Lin Mo thought, shaking his head in quiet amazement. If Song Zihao ever reforms and hits eighty Goodness, I’ll hire him as my Chief Motivational Officer.
“Xiao Lin, process the international clearing on your concierge terminal with Monsieur Laurent’s shipyard scanner,” Lin Mo said calmly. “Register all thirty vessels under Taichu Marine Logistics — Canteen Live-Shrimp Trawler & Veteran River Patrol Division.”
“Yes, Chairman Lin!” Xiao Lin held up the terminal as Monsieur Laurent and his twelve honest craftsmen (Goodness: 82–88/100) pressed their thumbs to the recipient verification pad.
Lin Mo tapped his Taichu Black-Gold Benevolence Card against the glass.
BEEP—CHIME!
A dazzling emerald-gold confirmation banner lit up both Laurent’s manufacturer terminal and the giant Boat Show LED leaderboard overhead:
[BEEP! INTERNATIONAL MANUFACTURER WIRE CLEARED IN FULL: ¥600,000,000.00 RMB!]
[LOT SOLD: 30 X AZURE-68 FLAGSHIP EUROPEAN SUPERYACHTS (HULLS #01 TO #30)!]
[RECIPIENTS VERIFIED: MONSIEUR PIERRE LAURENT (GOODNESS: 88/100) & 12 MASTER HULL CRAFTSMEN (GOODNESS: 82–87/100)!]
[NEW FLEET OWNER: TAICHU BENEVOLENCE GROUP (CAPTAIN HAI JIANJUN — RIVER PATROL & SHRIMP FLEET)!]
Inside Lin Mo’s mind, a deafening golden dragon-roar of sovereign wealth echoed through his dantian:
[DING! SPENT ¥600,000,000 ON 13 VERIFIED PURE-HEART BENEFICIARIES (AND EQUIPPED CAPTAIN OLD HAI’S 94-GOODNESS FLEET)!]
[100X PURE-HEART CASHBACK TRIGGERED! +¥60,000,000,000 (¥60.00 BILLION RMB) DEPOSITED INTO PERSONAL LIQUID VAULT!]
[CURRENT LIQUID VAULT BALANCE: ¥178,300,000,000 (¥178.30 BILLION RMB)!]
[GOOD PEOPLE NETWORK: 10,070 (+13) | BONUS: +600,000 BENEVOLENCE MERIT POINTS!]
A massive wave of golden Benevolence Merit Points flooded Lin Mo’s limbs, condensing a faint golden sheen at the core of his dantian.
On the exhibition floor, Monsieur Laurent stared at the confirmed ¥600,000,000.00 Swiss-to-Marseille bank settlement on his tablet. Tears streamed down the old Frenchman’s silver beard as his twelve craftsmen cheered and hugged one another.
“Vive le Président Lin!” Monsieur Laurent swept off his naval cap, bowed deeply, and opened a velvet-lined mahogany chest containing thirty solid-gold electronic helm keys—placing the entire chest into Lin Mo’s and Captain Old Hai’s hands! “Not only are the thirty superyachts yours, Chairman Lin, my twelve craftsmen and I will stay in Tianhai for a month free of charge to maintain Captain Hai’s fleet!”
Lin Mo handed the chest of thirty gold keys to Captain Old Hai. “Captain Hai, take your twenty brothers and the cold-chain crew outside. Move the shrimp crates from your broken trawler onto Yachts One through Ten so they don’t spoil.”
“Aye, Chairman!”
Two minutes later, every broker in the pavilion pressed their faces against the harbor glass wall in utter disbelief.
Out under the marina floodlights, Captain Old Hai and twenty weathered fishermen in yellow oilskins marched up the Italian teak gangways of thirty twenty-million-yuan European superyachts! With cheerful shouts, they hoisted dripping plastic crates of live river prawns, mud crabs, and salted silver carp straight onto the hand-rubbed mahogany sundecks and lowered them into the crystal champagne-chilling pools!
A sixty-year-old fisherman in rubber boots tied a braided crab-trap rope around a gold-plated sunbathing rail on Yacht #1. Watching him, Song Zihao inhaled his cigar smoke the wrong way and choked so violently he dropped to his knees, coughing until his eyes bulged!
“Mahogany... twenty-million-yuan mahogany sundecks... covered in river crab baskets?!” Song Zihao wheezed, clawing at his throat in apoplectic fury.
Behind Song Zihao’s back, Tiffany stared at the ¥600,000,000 PAID IN FULL banner on the wall, her heart pounding wildly. Sliding her hand beneath her fur shawl, she secretly sent a frantic text to her broker: [Find out right now if Chairman Lin Mo is single and which suite he’s sleeping in tonight!]
“Young Master Song, don’t panic!” Manager Wei hissed, his face contorted with malice as he pulled out his master marina control keycard with his good left hand. “Even if he bought all thirty superyachts, the exhibition yachts only carry ten liters of test diesel in their tanks! The Cloud-Crown Marina Fuel Depot and the high-voltage shore-power breaker box are both under my lock and key!”
Manager Wei marched over to the master marina control panel by the pier exit and slammed down the heavy red BERTHS 1–30 SHORE POWER & FUEL DEPOT LOCKOUT switch!
CLACK—THUD!
Outside on the water, the shore-power charging cables and dockside fuel pumps along all thirty superyacht slips went pitch-black!
“Hahaha! Look at your thirty six-hundred-million-yuan shrimp boats now, Lin Mo!” Song Zihao scrambled to his feet, laughing maniacally as he stood beside the locked breaker box with Manager Wei. “Without my Cloud-Crown Marina’s diesel depot and shore electricity, your thirty European superyachts can’t even sail out of the harbor basin! They’re six hundred million yuan of floating scrap metal trapped in my pond!”
Lin Mo stood under the pavilion lights, looking calmly at Song Zihao and Manager Wei gloating beside the locked marina breaker box.
Locking the hotel’s fuel depot and power grid because you think you own the building? Lin Mo thought deadpan as the encrypted satellite phone in his pocket vibrated with a call from his legal chief. Right on schedule.
Lin Mo tapped the speaker button.
From the phone came the cheerful, dimpled voice of twenty-six-year-old Shen Qiaoqiao (`Goodness: 91/100`), Taichu Group’s Chief Legal Counsel—known across Jiangcheng as the Smiling Iron Abacus:
“Boss Lin! Good news before midnight! Our thirty counter-audit lawyers just landed in Tianhai with Director Xu (`Goodness: 86/100`), the original honest co-founder of the Cloud-Crown Hotel & Marina. The Song Clan illegally froze his thirty percent minority shares and pension! Even better—the European syndicate holding the ¥1.50 Billion senior distressed mortgage on the entire Cloud-Crown Hotel, Marina, and Fuel Depot just agreed to sell us 100% of the property deed! Should I bring the buyout contract to the pier right now?”