The bent steel bolt cutters clattered against the wet concrete floor with a dull ring.
Landlord Jia stumbled backward, clutching his bruised fingers. He glanced at Lin Mo’s sharp suit and the two burly Iron Guards behind him.
“Who gave you permission to interfere?” Jia stammered. “She owes two months of commercial rent! That is eight thousand yuan! She runs an unlicensed charity den in my basement! Look at those dirty laborers in the hallway!”
Lin Mo glanced into the tiny office. Water dripped into a dented tin bucket. The room smelled of damp cement and aged legal files.
A single battery lamp lit the desk. Behind it sat a young woman in an oversized navy cardigan. She wore round, gold-rimmed spectacles. An unsharpened yellow pencil was tucked behind her right ear. Her round cheeks were flushed, and she held a piece of dry ramen halfway to her mouth.
Floating above her head, crisp golden numerals glowed in Lin Mo’s vision:
[Target: Shen Qiaoqiao, Age 26.]
[Moral Integrity Score: 91/100 (Uncompromising Pure-Heart Jurist).]
[Special Trait: Photographic Legal Memory & Forensic Accounting Genius.]
[Status: Chronically Malnourished, Systemically Blacklisted, Indomitable Will.]
Lin Mo felt a warm flutter in his chest. In his line of work, finding someone with a moral score above ninety was like striking a gusher of high-grade crude oil. It was clean, rare, and yielded immense financial returns.
“Eight thousand yuan,” Lin Mo said, turning to Landlord Jia. “Is that all?”
“Plus a late penalty!” Jia snapped, shrinking from the silent gaze of the Iron Guards. “Plus power fees! Plus hallway cleaning! Twelve thousand in total!”
“Su Wan,” Lin Mo said smoothly.
Su Wan stepped forward from the corridor, holding a carbon-fiber tablet. “Yes, Chairman Lin?”
“Pay this gentleman twenty-four thousand yuan for four months of rent and deposits,” Lin Mo instructed. “Then inform the district fire safety bureau about his illegal basement partition walls.”
Landlord Jia paled. “Wait, you cannot report—”
“A mobile transfer is executing to your phone number,” Su Wan said sharply. “You have sixty seconds to verify the funds and leave before our security files a formal harassment complaint.”
Jia’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, saw the deposit alert, and swallowed hard. He looked at the deformed bolt cutters, then at the two broad-shouldered veterans. Without another word, he snatched his umbrella and scrambled up the stairs like a scalded dog.
Outside in the damp corridor, eighty elderly men sat watching in stunned silence. They wore faded denim coats, rubber boots caked in dried mortar, and knitted caps.
Lin Mo turned his [Pure-Heart Eye] toward the corridor. A sea of soft emerald lights greeted him. Scores ranged from eighty-three to ninety. Every single one was an honest, hardworking soul who had broken their backs building Jiangcheng’s high-rises.
Uncle Gao, the elderly mason with deep facial wrinkles, stepped forward holding an empty tin mug.
“Sir,” Uncle Gao said softly. “Are you with the labor board? We did not come to cause trouble. Lawyer Shen told us to wait here while she finalized our paperwork. We just want our back pay for our families.”
“Uncle Gao, sit down and do not worry,” a bright voice rang out from the small office.
Shen Qiaoqiao stood up, setting down her dry ramen. Her smile showed two deep dimples.
“Uncle Gao, do not worry,” Shen Qiaoqiao said cheerfully, pushing up her glasses. “This gentleman paid my rent. I do not have to pack tonight. That gives me more hours to finish your petition!”
She turned to face Lin Mo, her dark eyes sharp behind her lenses.
“Thank you for resolving my eviction crisis,” she said, extending a small, ink-stained hand. “I am Shen Qiaoqiao, attorney at law. Judging by your suit and that custom tablet, you are not a standard legal aid volunteer. Who are you?”
Lin Mo shook her hand. Her grip was surprisingly firm for someone living on dry noodles.
“My name is Lin Mo,” he said. “I am Chairman of Taichu Benevolence Group. This is our Chief Executive Officer, Su Wan.”
Shen Qiaoqiao blinked. Her photographic memory fired at full throttle. “Taichu Benevolence Group? The entity that acquired Grand Golden-Plume Plaza, established Taichu Hospital, and launched a courier fleet today?”
“You read corporate filings?” Su Wan asked.
“I read municipal registry updates every midnight,” Shen Qiaoqiao said. “Your corporate charter has an unprecedented non-profit clause. It is either pure sainthood or an elaborate tax plan.”
Lin Mo let out a dry chuckle. “I assure you, we pay all our taxes. In fact, we prefer paying immediately.”
He sat down on a wooden folding chair, crossing his long legs.
“Lawyer Shen, let us get straight to business,” Lin Mo said. “Why are eighty construction workers sitting in a flooded basement instead of filing at the labor bureau?”
Shen Qiaoqiao pulled a thick Manila folder from a cardboard box and laid it on the desk.
“Six months ago, Hongsheng Construction hired eighty-four master bricklayers to build the foundation for Riverside Luxury Park Phase Two,” Shen Qiaoqiao explained. “The general contractor was a subsidiary of the Zhao Consortium. When the project topped out, the subsidiary filed for fraudulent bankruptcy, wired forty million yuan offshore to Macao, and abandoned the workers without a single fen.”
“Did they not have employment contracts?” Su Wan asked.
“They did,” Shen Qiaoqiao replied, her smile cold and sharp. “The contractor gave them contracts printed with disappearing chemical ink. Within two weeks of signing, the contract text vanished. It left blank paper with only their thumbprints.”
Lin Mo raised an eyebrow. “A classic low-tier scam.”
“Low-tier, but vicious,” Shen Qiaoqiao said. “When the crew went to the labor bureau, they had no documentary proof. Clerks turned them away. Commercial firms refused the case because the Zhao Consortium blacklisted anyone who opposed them.”
“And you took it,” Lin Mo observed.
“Of course I took it,” Shen Qiaoqiao said matter-of-factly, tapping the desk with her pencil. “The law exists to protect the weak from predators. If lawyers only represent billionaires who want to hide assets, the profession is just robbery. So I spent four months digging into Hongsheng Construction’s concrete invoices, truck GPS logs, and cafeteria rice purchases.”
She smiled brightly, showing her dimples again. “By calculating the exact tonnage of cement poured and the food consumed on site, I proved through forensic math that eighty bricklayers worked forty-two thousand hours on that foundation. The court cannot deny the numbers.”
Lin Mo looked at the stack of calculation sheets. Every column was neat, orderly, and verified to the fifth decimal place.
This woman is a human supercomputer, Lin Mo thought. Her mind is sharper than a newly honed meat cleaver. And she does all this on three-yuan packages of dry noodles. If I do not give her an ocean of resources, the universe will fine me for negligence.
“How much back pay do these eighty workers need to survive the coming winter?” Lin Mo asked.
Shen Qiaoqiao answered without checking a single sheet. “One million six hundred thousand yuan. Exactly twenty thousand yuan per worker. That covers six months of basic living expenses, winter heating, and school fees for their children.”
Lin Mo turned toward the door. “Uncle Gao, please come inside for a moment.”
The elderly mason stepped into the doorway, removing his hat with both hands. “Yes, young boss?”
“Taichu Benevolence Group is establishing an emergency labor relief fund,” Lin Mo said calmly. “We cannot allow honest builders of this city to starve while waiting for court dates.”
Lin Mo drew his emerald-green [Benevolence Charity Card] from his inner pocket and handed it to Su Wan.
“Su Wan, execute an instant bank transfer of twenty thousand yuan directly into each of the eighty workers’ personal bank accounts,” Lin Mo commanded. “If any of them do not have digital banking, dispatch two Iron Guards to withdraw cash from the nearest commercial teller immediately.”
Uncle Gao froze. His jaw dropped. “Wait... young boss, you are giving us twenty thousand yuan each? Right now? We have not even won the lawsuit yet!”
“You will win it,” Lin Mo said, his tone casual and relaxed. “And until you do, consider this an interest-free wage advance backed by Taichu Benevolence Group. You do not owe me anything. You worked with your sweat, and you deserve your bread.”
Shen Qiaoqiao sprang to her feet, her spectacles nearly slipping off her nose. “Chairman Lin! That is one million six hundred thousand yuan! You cannot just hand out cash without an escrow agreement and an assigned lien!”
“I can, and I just did,” Lin Mo replied dryly. “In fact, Su Wan, add four hundred thousand yuan to the disbursement. Allocate it as Lawyer Shen’s office rehabilitation fund, digital research equipment endowment, and emergency legal filing budget.”
Su Wan tapped her tablet quickly. “Transaction verified, Chairman Lin. Total expenditure: two million yuan. One point six million allocated to eighty verified construction laborers. Four hundred thousand allocated to Shen Qiaoqiao Public Interest Law Office.”
A clear chime sounded in Lin Mo’s mind. The familiar chime of absolute wealth.
[DING! Pure-Heart Benevolence Expenditure Confirmed!]
[Recipient 1: 80 Honest Migrant Laborers (Goodness: 83–90/100) — Received: ¥1,600,000.00 Wage Relief.]
[Recipient 2: Shen Qiaoqiao (Goodness: 91/100) — Received: ¥400,000.00 Legal Operations Endowment.]
[Calculation: Total Spent: ¥2,000,000.00 | Multiplier: 100x Pure-Heart Return.]
[Refund Amount: +¥200,000,000.00 RMB Transferred to Personal Vault!]
[Benevolence Merit Points: +200,000 BMP Awarded!]
[Personal Vault Current Balance: ¥58,613,180,000.50 RMB!]
[Good People Network Expanded: 1,681 Verified Righteous Allies!]
A surge of warm, pure golden benevolence qi rushed through Lin Mo’s dantian. It circulated along his primary meridians with soothing heat. His Rank 1 Peak Martial physique absorbed the energy effortlessly. His senses expanded further, sharpening every sound in the damp building.
Outside in the hallway, eighty mobile phones began chiming in unison.
“Beep!” “Ding!” “Your postal savings account ending in 4102 received twenty thousand yuan!” “My phone got a text! The money arrived! Twenty thousand yuan!”
The damp corridor erupted into shouts and weeping. Tough men who had never shed a tear under falling bricks fell to their knees. Uncle Gao slumped against the doorframe, weeping openly into his calloused hands.
“The money... my grandson can finally buy his winter down jacket!” “We have food! We will not be evicted!” “Thank you, Chairman Lin! Thank you!”
Uncle Gao dropped to both knees to kowtow before Lin Mo.
Lin Mo stepped forward in a flash. He caught Uncle Gao’s shoulders with gentle strength before the old man’s knees touched the floor.
“Stand tall, Uncle Gao,” Lin Mo said warmly. “You built the foundations of this city. You never bow to anyone for receiving what you earned with your own honest labor.”
Shen Qiaoqiao stood frozen beside her desk. Her mouth was open in a small, stunned circle. Her round eyes darted between her laptop screen, the notification on her banking app showing a four-hundred-thousand-yuan credit, and Lin Mo’s calm face.
For the first time in her life, the Smiling Iron Abacus could not compute the variables.
“Two million yuan,” she murmured, her voice breathless. “You just spent two million yuan in thirty seconds on eighty strangers and a broke public-interest lawyer in a leaky basement. Are you a fairy-tale prince, or did you rob the central bank?”
“Strictly speaking, I run a very profitable enterprise,” Lin Mo replied deadpan. “Helping good people is the most efficient asset allocation strategy in the known universe.”
Shen Qiaoqiao stared at him. She took off her glasses, wiped them on her sweater, and put them back on. The numbers on her screen remained unchanged.
“You really gave them the money,” she whispered, her dimples disappearing into a look of profound respect. “No hidden clauses. No compound interest. No public relations cameras.”
“Cameras are expensive, and PR consultants are irritating,” Lin Mo said. “I prefer fast wire transfers.”
As he spoke, Lin Mo’s eyes drifted across her desk. Tucked beside an empty noodle cup were ten thick, black leather-bound binders. Each binder was secured with heavy red ribbon and stamped with official tax seal impressions.
The label on the top binder was written in crisp calligraphy:
Evidence Dossier #1: Criminal Usury Syndicates, Forged Blank Contracts, & Cross-Border Money Laundering Networks (Hu Tianbiao / Scarface Hu & Zhao Consortium Shell Companies).
Lin Mo leaned forward, tapping the cover of the top binder with his index finger.
“Scarface Hu,” Lin Mo said quietly. “You have his complete dossier?”
Shen Qiaoqiao’s eyes flashed with a hunter’s gleam. A sweet, terrifying smile reappeared on her round face.
“Scarface Hu runs twenty-two illegal lending hubs in Jiangcheng disguised as electric vehicle leasing companies,” Shen Qiaoqiao said, her voice dropping into a rapid cadence. “He traps vulnerable couriers and gig workers with blank-page contracts. He uses predatory penalty rates of one thousand eight hundred percent APR.”
“He evades over forty million yuan in municipal business taxes every year. He launders the dirty interest through dummy shell companies controlled by Zhao Kai’s older cousin.”
“Why haven’t you filed this in court?” Su Wan asked.
“Because to prosecute them, you need more than evidence,” Shen Qiaoqiao replied. “You need forty forensic accountants to verify seven thousand fake invoices. You need servers to trace offshore wires. And you need fifty million yuan in court deposits. I had seven yuan in my account two minutes ago.”
Lin Mo smiled. It was the calm, predatory smile of a dragon that had just spotted a massive mountain of gold coins waiting to be claimed.
“What if you did not have seven yuan?” Lin Mo asked, his voice low and magnetic. “What if you had the top three floors of the International Law Tower? What if you had forty of the best forensic auditors in the country? And what if you had a one-hundred-million-yuan legal war-chest dedicated exclusively to crushing every crooked loan shark and predatory monopolist in Jiangcheng?”
Shen Qiaoqiao stopped breathing for a full two seconds. Her pencil dropped onto the desk and rolled against the dossier.
“A one-hundred-million-yuan legal war-chest?” she whispered.
“One hundred million yuan,” Lin Mo repeated firmly. “And your first target is outside our delivery fleet headquarters right now, waving forged scooter contracts in front of my drivers.”
Shen Qiaoqiao picked up her pencil. Her eyes glowed with fierce, righteous light, and her two dimples blossomed into a radiant, lethal grin.
“Chairman Lin,” Shen Qiaoqiao said, cracking her knuckles with a series of sharp pops. “Give me fifteen minutes to print these balance sheets. Tomorrow morning at nine o’clock, I will make Scarface Hu beg the judge to send him to prison.”