Master Builder Lu Jian raised his brass signal whistle on the eighty-eighth-floor crown deck of the Taichu Sanctuary Sky-Tower. At his signal, four German climbing cranes hoisted the structural steel while crimson banners snapped in the crisp river breeze.
From the high steel deck, the entire city of Jiangcheng spread out along the silvery curves of the Yangtze River, dotted with Old Captain Zheng’s sightseeing boats. Directly surrounding the construction site were Parcels Seven, Eight, and Nine: sixty-two acres of prime land where survey crews were already pegging out boundaries for the public library, the riverside park, and the five hundred teacher apartments.
Powered by Director Iron’s titanium-alloy rebar and energized by the subterranean Nine-Palace Vitality Array, two thousand master builders had achieved what normal contractors called an impossible fantasy. Working without fatigue in their active-cooling exoskeleton vests, they had assembled the twenty-story podium and eighty-eight-story central core in record time.
On the highest deck, three hundred people gathered on the freshly cured concrete.
Lin Mo stood at the edge of the viewing platform, looking out across the sparkling river. Beside him, Grandma Chen wore a neat floral blouse and a clean white apron. In her arms was Little Guo’er, sporting a miniature yellow toy hard hat and munching on a warm red-bean bun.
Su Wan stood close by with her tablet, smiling as she tracked the project milestones. Behind them, Dr. Gu Qinghe, Chief Counsel Shen Qiaoqiao, Director Iron, and Commander Tie Niu stood in crisp suits, their eyes bright with satisfaction.
Chief Architect Master Lu Jian stepped to the edge of the central elevator shaft. He held a walkie-talkie in his calloused hand, his gray hair blowing in the autumn wind.
“Engineer Han, prepare the golden beam!” Master Lu called through the radio.
“Crane One ready!” Engineer Han’s voice crackled through the speaker. “The central beam is balanced and laser-locked!”
Two hundred yards in the air, the massive red boom of the flagship tower crane pivoted with smooth, silent grace.
Suspended from four heavy steel cables was the central golden beam: a twelve-meter structural alloy girder coated in high-purity gold leaf, engraved with ancient Nine-Palace trigrams by Master Lu’s apprentices. Embedded at its exact center was a translucent green nephrite jade medallion.
Little Guo’er leaned forward from Grandma Chen’s arms, reaching out her small hand toward the gleaming medallion. “Grandma, look! The stone has little golden dragons inside!”
Master Lu smiled warmly, guiding Little Guo’er’s fingers to gently touch the jade. “Those are not dragons, Little Guo’er. Those are ancient mechanism runes. They anchor the good qi of the earth into the building’s heart.”
“Lower away!” Master Lu commanded into his radio.
The crane winches hummed with steady power. The heavy golden girder descended smoothly, aligning with the primary central bedrock column.
Two veteran masons guided the heavy guide pins with brass mallets.
CLANG-LOCK.
The heavy locking pins shot home, sealing the golden beam into the central structural core.
At that exact second, the Nine-Palace Vitality Array closed its circuit.
A soft, golden-green luminescence rippled outward from the jade medallion. Like an invisible dome of mountain mist, the earth qi gathered from the deep granite bedrock washed over the four blocks of the newly acquired Sanctuary District.
The city smog seemed to vanish. The autumn breeze smelled of spring rain and wild mountain herbs.
Grandma Chen took a deep breath, her wrinkled face softening as her tired knees felt light and completely painless. “Ah, Little Mo, standing up here feels like sitting in an ancient mountain orchard. All the heaviness in my chest has lifted.”
Little Guo’er clapped her small hands, laughing merrily. “Big Brother Lin Mo, the building is glowing! It looks like a giant tree protecting everyone!”
Lin Mo reached over and gently adjusted Little Guo’er’s yellow hard hat.
Two thousand men finished in two weeks what usually takes eight months of grinding misery, Lin Mo thought deadpan. Paying workers five times the going rate and feeding them Wagyu beef turns out to be the most ruthless efficiency hack in corporate history. Who knew that treating human beings with basic dignity speeds up construction?
Master Lu Jian wiped tears of pride from his weathered cheeks and turned toward Lin Mo.
“Chairman Lin, the main frame is locked!” Master Lu announced, his voice carrying across the entire deck. “The eighty-eight-story core is anchored into the earth’s meridians! Taichu Sky-Tower will stand tall for five hundred years without cracking!”
A thunderous cheer erupted from the two thousand builders assembled on the decks below.
Lin Mo walked to the center of the podium stage. Behind him, Tie Niu and four Iron Guard veterans rolled out two heavy aluminum carts stacked high with golden red envelopes and neat piles of red real estate deed folders.
Lin Mo looked at the sea of hard hats. He signaled for quiet.
“Brothers of Taichu,” Lin Mo said, his calm voice amplified by the site speakers. “Other developers celebrate topping-out by opening vintage champagne for overseas private equity investors. Taichu does not celebrate bankers. We celebrate the men whose sweat poured this concrete.”
Lin Mo gestured toward the two hundred master masons, crane operators, and welders standing in the front rows, led by gray-haired Old Zhang, chief welder Master Song, and high-altitude rigger Master Liu.
“These two hundred craftsmen worked on the highest scaffolding through wind, rain, and cold,” Lin Mo continued. “They refused to cut a single corner. Today, every one of these two hundred master builders receives a fifty-thousand-yuan topping-out cash red envelope.”
The crowd of workers froze in place.
“Fifty thousand yuan cash?” Old Zhang whispered, his hands trembling as he stared at the red envelopes. “Just as a bonus?”
“And that is not all,” Lin Mo added with a warm smile. “Each of you also receives permanent, deeded ownership of a three-bedroom apartment in our Emerald River Sanctuary Island community, completely mortgage-free.”
Silence hung over the deck for two heartbeats.
Then, wild shouting, laughing, and weeping broke out among the two hundred veteran builders.
“A home of our own?!” “Mortgage-free on Emerald River Island?!” “Chairman Lin, you saved our families!”
Old Zhang fell to his knees, clutching the deed folder against his chest as tears soaked his rough gray beard. For thirty years, he had lived in leaky metal shanties on dusty construction sites, sending every cent home to pay for his children’s schooling. Now, his family had a permanent home in the most beautiful garden community in Jiangcheng.
Beside him, chief welder Master Song and dozens of burly, weather-beaten masons wept openly, hugging each other and waving their yellow hard hats into the azure sky.
Most billionaires spend ten million on a single superyacht party to impress people they despise, Lin Mo thought deadpan. Handing out ten million to honest builders gives two hundred families permanent roots and secures the most loyal workforce in the country. And the system ensures I get every dollar back multiplied by a hundred. Philanthropy is just superior asset management.
Lin Mo picked up his wireless terminal and turned to Su Wan. “Process the disbursement.”
Su Wan swiped the Black-Gold Benevolence Card across the reader: ¥10,000,000.00.
BEEP.
A magnificent, celestial chime resonated deep within Lin Mo’s soul:
[Ding! Detected spending of ¥10,000,000.00 RMB on Top 200 Honest Master Builders (Goodness: 85–93/100)!]
[Target Integrity Verified: Master craftsmanship and tireless labor building public sanctuary.]
[Triggered 100x Pure Benevolence System Refund!]
[Received Cash Refund: +¥1,000,000,000.00 RMB!]
[Funds deposited directly into Host Personal Liquid Vault!]
[Personal Liquid Vault: ¥35,042,180,000.50 RMB!]
[Benevolence Merit Points: +1,000,000 BMP!]
[Good People Network Expanded: 7,400 verified righteous allies (+200: master craftsmen and site leaders)!]
[MAJOR FINANCIAL MILESTONE UNLOCKED: PERSONAL LIQUID VAULT SURPASSES ¥35 BILLION!]
Thirty-five billion yuan in liquid cash, Lin Mo observed, watching the golden numbers settle cleanly into his balance. From forty-eight yuan and fifty cents on a rainy curb outside the luxury plaza two weeks ago to thirty-five billion in hard capital. Kindness is truly the greatest financial cheat code in the universe.
Down on the tenth-floor cafeteria deck, Grandma Chen and her kitchen staff began rolling out giant steaming carts.
The rich, savory aroma of spring-water shrimp wontons, slow-braised beef brisket, and steamed pork buns filled the autumn air. Two thousand builders formed orderly lines, laughing and chatting as they received heaping bowls of steaming food.
Dr. Gu Qinghe walked over, holding a small porcelain bowl. “Chairman Lin, the vitality readings across this entire four-block district are off the charts. The ambient stress levels of our workers have dropped sixty percent. If we open a clinic on the fifth floor, patients will heal twice as fast just by breathing the air.”
“We will build three free health clinics in this district, Dr. Gu,” Lin Mo said. “And our sanctuary hospital will oversee all of them.”
Director Iron walked over, wiping sweat from his forehead and holding up a digital metallurgical report.
“Chairman Lin, look at the sensor data,” Director Iron said with immense pride. “The municipal seismic monitoring bureau just sent official certification. Our titanium-alloy rebar and Luban mortise joints achieved an unbroken Grade-Nine earthquake resistance rating. It is the highest structural safety score ever recorded in the history of this province!”
Lin Mo nodded with genuine satisfaction.
An earthquake-proof sanctuary built by honest craftsmen who now own their homes, Lin Mo thought. This is what real wealth is meant to create. Not offshore tax shelters, but living fortresses that protect human lives.
Shen Qiaoqiao stepped up, her tablet chiming with a series of urgent news alerts. Her pleasant smile vanished, replaced by a cold, sharp scowl.
“Chairman Lin, we have a situation downstairs,” Shen Qiaoqiao said, turning her tablet toward him.
Lin Mo looked down at the screen.
A live television broadcast was streaming on Jiangcheng’s top culinary media channel, showing over five hundred thousand active viewers.
At the street entrance outside Grandma Chen’s flagship Sanctuary Canteen on the ground level, a bright yellow foreign sports car was parked directly across the pedestrian crosswalk.
Standing in front of the mobile cameras was a slick young man in an embroidered silk jacket, holding a pair of gold-plated chopsticks. It was Zhao Peng, the twenty-six-year-old heir to the Gourmet-King Culinary Monopoly and cousin to the imprisoned Zhao Kai.
Beside Zhao Peng stood a snobbish, middle-aged man wearing a bespoke French double-breasted suit, a gold cravat, and a badge reading Asia-Pacific Golden-Fork Three-Star Culinary Inspector: Pierre Zhang.
Pierre Zhang sneered into the camera, dipping a chemical test strip into a bowl of Grandma Chen’s wonton broth.
“Look at this primitive filth, ladies and gentlemen!” Pierre Zhang proclaimed in an exaggerated foreign accent, speaking into a cluster of boom microphones. “This street-stall swill is being fed to thousands of workers under the fraudulent banner of charity! Look at the grease floating on this cloudy broth! In Europe, this unhygienic pig feed would not be served to farm animals! Gourmet-King Monopoly is filing an emergency health petition to shut this toxic street kitchen down before it poisons Jiangcheng!”
Beside the soup cauldron, heritage soup master Lao Tang stood trembling with indignation, while several elderly kitchen helpers looked terrified.
Grandma Chen looked at the screen, her weathered hands clutching her apron. Her eyes filled with hurt and confusion. “Little Mo... why is that man calling my wontons pig feed? I bought the freshest live river shrimp this morning at five...”
Little Guo’er buried her face into Lin Mo’s coat, sniffling softly. “Big Brother... Grandma’s wontons are delicious... why are they mean to Grandma?”
Lin Mo’s eyes cooled into calm, unyielding obsidian.
He gently patted Little Guo’er’s back.
“Don’t cry, Little Guo’er,” Lin Mo said softly. “Grandma’s wontons are the best in the world. And when bad people tell lies, we teach them how to tell the truth.”
Lin Mo handed his thermos to Tie Niu and turned toward the express construction elevator.
“Tie Niu, Su Wan, Counselor Shen,” Lin Mo commanded, his voice dropping into a dangerous, icy calm. “Come with me downstairs. Let us go see this three-star food critic and find out what kind of garbage he has hiding up his sleeve.”