Commander Tie Niu rested his scarred knuckles lightly against the door pillar of a flagship Maybach S680 in Hall One of the Jiangcheng International Convention Center, peering through the tinted window at the quilted leather cabin.
Around him, polished white porcelain tiles mirrored the chrome grilles of thirty obsidian-black Maybach S680 sedans and ten two-tone Rolls-Royce Cullinans arranged in a crescent at the Supreme Star Luxury Auto pavilion. Servers in black waistcoats carried silver trays of champagne flutes between clusters of wealthy socialites as classical string quartets drifted from concealed speakers.
“The headroom looks decent,” Tie Niu muttered to himself. “If we pull out the back bench, we could fit eight crates of fresh cabbage and four sacks of river shrimp with room to spare.”
A sharp, shrill burst of laughter shattered his musings.
“Look at this barbarian,” a mocking female voice sneered. “Hey, security guard! Take your calloused hands off that paint before you leave grease on the clear coat! One scratch on that Maybach costs ten years of your night-watchman wages!”
Two high-fashion car models stood leaning against a champagne display pedestal. Both wore glittering silver evening gowns, heavy makeup, and six-inch stiletto heels. Their lips curled with unconcealed disgust as they looked at Tie Niu’s worn boots.
Beside them stood Liu Yan.
She was draped in a borrowed backless emerald sequin dress. Diamond earrings dangled from her earlobes, and she held a glass of Dom Perignon with a trembling, self-conscious grace. Her arm was linked tightly with that of a short, fifty-year-old man with a comb-over, a swollen beer belly, and a maroon silk pocket square.
The man was General Manager Qian of Supreme Star Luxury Auto.
Lin Mo, walking into the pavilion ten paces behind Tie Niu, casually activated his [Pure-Heart Eye].
Golden and crimson markers flared above the trio:
[Target: General Manager Qian, Age 51.]
[Moral Integrity Score: 10/100 (Embezzler, Predator, Chronic Debtor).]
[Status: Embezzled ¥6M in Dealership Parts to Buy Counterfeit Jewelry for Mistresses.]
[Target: Liu Yan, Age 22.]
[Moral Integrity Score: 14/100 (Unrepentant Gold-Digger Parasite).]
[Status: Evicted from Rented Flat; Clinging to Qian for Free Penthouse Housing.]
[Target: Model Li & Model Chen.]
[Moral Integrity Score: 19/100 (Vain, Snobbish Commercial Bullies).]
Lin Mo kept his pace slow and measured. Beside him walked Su Wan in an impeccably cut navy pantsuit, her tablet already linked to the municipal business registry. Dr. Gu walked on her left, adjusting his silver spectacles as he inspected the shock-absorption specs of the long-wheelbase chassis.
“The independent air suspension on these German sedans is exceptional,” Dr. Gu remarked quietly to Lin Mo. “If we convert a dozen of them into intensive-care transfer vehicles for elderly cardiac patients, the ride would be smoother than a hospital elevator.”
“We can certainly arrange that, Dean Gu,” Lin Mo replied. “A smooth ride preserves dignity and saves lives. That is far more useful than letting socialites pose on the hood.”
Shen Qiaoqiao ambled alongside them in her oversized cardigan, happily nibbling on a free catering pastry while her sharp eyes scanned the exhibition banners.
“Chairman Lin, look at the promotional financing fine print on the pillar,” Shen Qiaoqiao whispered, nudging his elbow. “Supreme Star Luxury Auto is charging an illegal five-percent administrative documentation fee disguised as vehicle registration insurance. General Manager Qian has been running that scheme for over two years. My fingers are itching already.”
Tie Niu did not flinch at the model’s insult. He merely turned his heavy head and looked at her with flat, emotionless eyes.
“The paint is three-stage polyurethane with a ceramic clear coat,” Tie Niu said in his gravelly voice. “My hands are clean. Unless your paint is made of wet flour, finger pressure does not damage clear coat.”
“Listen to this peasant pretending to know cars!” Liu Yan laughed loudly, leaning her cheek against Manager Qian’s shoulder. “Manager Qian, darling, why does your convention security allow construction laborers into the VIP preview? It ruins the ambiance for real buyers like us!”
Manager Qian stroked Liu Yan’s bare waist with an oily smirk. “Darling, the public entrance guards must have fallen asleep after last night’s rain. Do not worry. I will have security throw this tramp onto the pavement.”
Before Qian could summon security, a hurried pair of leather shoes squeaked against the polished tile.
A young man of twenty-two jogged over, holding a clipboard and a silver tray carrying three bottles of heated mineral water. He wore an inexpensive black poly-blend suit that was slightly too large at the shoulders. A plastic name badge was pinned to his lapel: Rookie Sales Associate — Zhou Yang.
Lin Mo’s [Pure-Heart Eye] scanned the young salesman:
[Target: Zhou Yang, Age 22.]
[Moral Integrity Score: 89/100 (Honest, Diligent, Family-Oriented Rookie).]
[Status: Father Hospitalized for Silicosis; Working 16-Hour Shifts to Pay Dialysis Bills.]
[Monthly Sales Record: 0 Units (Refuses to Lie to Customers About Knockoff Parts).]
Zhou Yang bowed politely to Tie Niu. He stepped forward and smoothly pulled open the rear passenger door of the Maybach S680.
“Sir, please watch your head,” Zhou Yang said with an earnest, warm smile. “The executive wheelbase extends legroom by seven inches. If you would like to test the reclining seat angle or inspect the rear climate control, please sit inside. Our display vehicles are meant to be experienced, not just viewed.”
Tie Niu blinked in mild surprise. He smiled faintly at the young man. “Thank you, young brother. I have bad knees from military service, so legroom is important.”
“I understand completely, sir,” Zhou Yang replied gently.
Grandma Chen, who had accompanied Dr. Gu to inspect medical shuttle options, walked over holding Little Guo’er by the hand. The elderly woman looked slightly flushed from the walk.
Zhou Yang immediately noticed her tired gait. He knelt slightly, offering a bottle of warm water from his tray.
“Grandmother, the hall is dry from the air conditioning,” Zhou Yang said respectfully. “Please have some warm water and rest on the plush sofa in our viewing booth while your family looks at the cars.”
Grandma Chen’s face lit up with a grandmotherly beam. “Oh, what a polite young man! Bless your kind heart, child!”
Before Grandma Chen could take the bottle, a meaty hand knocked the water bottle from Zhou Yang’s fingers.
CLATTER!
The plastic bottle tumbled across the floor, splashing water across the polished marble.
Manager Qian stood over Zhou Yang, his face red with fury. He swung his heavy palm and shoved Zhou Yang’s shoulder, sending the young salesman stumbling back against the Maybach’s front fender.
“You blind little idiot!” Manager Qian barked, spittle flying from his lips. “Who told you to waste imported Evian water on roadside beggars?! Those bottles are reserved for tier-one corporate executives who can afford a five-hundred-thousand-yuan deposit!”
Zhou Yang gripped his bruised shoulder, his face pale with humiliation. “Manager Qian... the customer asked about legroom... our company handbook says every guest must receive warm water...”
“Handbook?!” Qian sneered, poking a stubby finger into Zhou Yang’s chest. “You haven’t sold a single car in three months! You are on probation! For wasting VIP hospitality on bumpkins and embarrassing Miss Liu in public, your base salary this month is docked two thousand yuan!”
Tears sprang into Zhou Yang’s eyes. He bit his lower lip until it turned white. “Manager Qian... please... my father needs his dialysis payment on Friday... without that two thousand yuan...”
“Then tell your father to stop being sick, or find a real job!” Liu Yan chimed in with a cruel laugh. She tossed her long hair over her shoulder. “If you had any talent, you would be selling to wealthy gentlemen like Manager Qian instead of kissing the boots of migrant laborers!”
The two models giggled loudly behind their manicured hands.
Some people are so thoroughly rotten that even their laughter sounds like rust, Lin Mo thought, stepping past the champagne display. Docking a kid’s medicine money to impress an ex-girlfriend whose moral score wouldn’t qualify her to adopt a goldfish. This level of arrogance is practically begging for a hostile financial liquidation.
Tie Niu’s eyes turned pitch-black with murderous fury. His right shoulder dropped, his muscles coiling like steel bridge cables. He took a heavy step toward Manager Qian.
Lin Mo raised two fingers and touched Tie Niu’s forearm. The mountain-shattering martial tension dissipated instantly.
“Chairman,” Tie Niu whispered through clenched teeth.
“Save your knuckles for people who have bones, Tie Niu,” Lin Mo said softly. “Beating him only gets you arrested for property damage to the floor.”
Lin Mo stepped forward into the center of the pavilion.
Liu Yan froze. The glass of champagne in her hand wobbled violently, spilling a splash of vintage vintage foam onto her sequined bodice.
“Lin... Lin Mo?!” Liu Yan stammered, her voice dropping an octave.
Her eyes darted over Lin Mo’s tailored charcoal overcoat, his handmade Italian calfskin shoes, and the golden civic hero medal pinned cleanly over his left breast pocket. Behind him stood Su Wan, whose sleek presence radiated executive power, and Shen Qiaoqiao, who was currently taking forensic photos of the spilled water bottle with her smartphone.
Manager Qian frowned, looking Lin Mo up and down. “Who are you? Are you with this security guard?”
Liu Yan quickly gripped Qian’s arm, whispering frantically into his ear. “Darling, that is my broke ex-boyfriend! He used to deliver takeout! Don’t let him intimidate you! His suit is probably rented from a theatrical prop shop!”
Manager Qian let out a loud, dismissive guffaw, his belly shaking. “A takeout driver?! Ha! Did you sneak in here to pick up empty soda cans, boy? Or did you come to beg Liu Yan to take you back after she moved into my penthouse?”
Liu Yan smirked, lifting her chin to display her glittering diamond necklace. “Lin Mo, you always had a pathetic habit of acting proud while having nothing in your pockets. When we were dating, you couldn’t even buy me a designer handbag without checking your bank balance three times! Now look at me! Manager Qian bought me this diamond necklace yesterday without blinking! What do you have? A plastic delivery crate?”
Lin Mo did not look at Manager Qian. He did not even glance at Liu Yan. To him, the two of them were simply noisy ambient background noise, no more significant than buzzing gnats on an autumn pond.
Lin Mo walked straight over to Zhou Yang.
He reached down, picked up the young salesman’s dropped clipboard, and handed it back to him. Then he gently patted Zhou Yang’s trembling shoulder.
“Zhou Yang,” Lin Mo said, his voice calm, clear, and perfectly audible across the entire pavilion.
Zhou Yang sniffled, adjusting his crooked plastic badge. “Yes... yes, sir?”
“What is your official commission rate on exhibition floor sales?” Lin Mo asked.
Zhou Yang blinked through his wet lashes. “Standard... standard sales commission is three percent of the total invoice price, sir.”
“Three percent,” Lin Mo repeated, nodding slowly. “And if an entire pavilion of display inventory is cleared out through your personal sales terminal, does the dealership system automatically lock that commission to your employee code?”
Manager Qian burst into a roar of obnoxious laughter. “Clear out the pavilion?! Kid, do you have any idea what you are looking at?! There are thirty Maybach S680s and ten custom Rolls-Royce Cullinans here! The total retail value exceeds one hundred and fifty million yuan! Even our city’s richest property tycoons wouldn’t dare claim they can clear out my inventory in one morning!”
Liu Yan sneered, regaining her confidence. “Lin Mo, stop embarrassing yourself! You made a little pocket money delivering parcels and think you are an oligarch? In front of Manager Qian, you are nothing but an ant!”
Lin Mo reached into his inner overcoat pocket.
With a slow, deliberate motion, he pulled out his matte black-gold [Personal 100x Vault Card].
The card caught the high-intensity halogens above. A deep, hypnotic obsidian sheen rippled across its gold-inlaid borders, radiating a subtle pressure that made Manager Qian’s breath hitch in his throat.
Lin Mo held the card between two fingers, resting its edge lightly against Zhou Yang’s digital sales tablet.
He looked at Zhou Yang with a deadpan, faintly amused smile.
“Zhou Yang,” Lin Mo said smoothly. “Boot up your checkout terminal. Let us see if your tablet can handle one hundred and fifty million yuan in cleared cash.”