Zhao Peng sneered, gesturing toward a technician holding a pair of heavy iron bolt-cutters.
“Cut the lock on the master gas junction!” Zhao Peng barked. “Shut off the natural gas and the city water supply to this entire street! If they want fire to cook, let them burn their clothes!”
The technician stepped toward the yellow metal junction box mounted on the brick wall.
“Stop! Do not touch those valves!”
An urgent, raspy voice shouted from the edge of the crowd.
An older man in his late fifties pushed his way through the circle of chefs. He wore a faded gray wool cardigan, frayed canvas trousers, and scuffed leather shoes. His hair was completely white, and his hands trembled with exhaustion.
It was Director Sun Guohua, the original state-appointed cultural preservation developer of Old Lantern Street.
Twenty years ago, Director Sun had spent his youth restoring this ancient cobblestone corridor. He had mortgaged his family house to pave two kilometers with authentic Qing-dynasty granite flagstones. He had fought off corrupt developers who wanted to raze the historic food stalls for luxury high-rise towers.
Three years ago, Zhao Peng’s Gourmet-King Monopoly had used leveraged municipal connections to secure a master commercial sublease for the street’s retail spaces and the eight-story Golden-Lotus Banquet Hall at the southern gate.
Then, Gourmet-King showed its true colors.
Zhao Peng deliberately withheld sixty million yuan in contractual lease payments for eighteen straight months. He tied Director Sun up in endless procedural lawsuits, bleeding his company dry of all operating cash flow.
Without cash flow, Director Sun’s development firm had defaulted on its bank restructuring notes.
“Director Sun!” Master Wu, the beef noodle chef, cried out, rushing forward to support the old man. “You should not be out of the hospital! Your blood pressure is too high!”
Old Master Chen of the clay-pot rice stall pulled a crumpled paper envelope from his apron. “Director Sun, we know Gourmet-King withheld your rent. The two hundred of us pooled our savings tonight! We gathered eighty thousand yuan! Take it for your legal defense!”
Director Sun looked at the crumpled bills and wept openly. “Brothers, eighty thousand yuan cannot stop them. Gourmet-King wants to destroy everything we built.”
Director Sun turned to Zhao Peng, his voice shaking with righteous fury. “Zhao Peng, you have no right to cut these utilities! The municipal operating charter explicitly protects basic utility access for heritage street vendors!”
Zhao Peng threw his head back and laughed with cruel delight.
“Old Sun, you broke old beggar!” Zhao Peng mocked, waving his gold-headed cane. “You owe fifty million yuan to the municipal court by nine o’clock tomorrow morning! If you cannot produce fifty million in cash, the bailiffs will lock your company gates. They will auction your master deed to Gourmet-King for pennies on the dollar! In ten hours, I will own every cobblestone on this street outright!”
Director Sun’s face turned pale as ashes. He leaned against a wooden pillar, his breath shallow and ragged.
“I poured thirty years of my life into this street...” Director Sun murmured, tears leaking from his eyes. “I protected these old peddlers from developers who wanted to build luxury condos. Now... I have failed them all. The bailiffs will seize everything.”
Lin Mo stepped forward and supported Director Sun’s arm with gentle, steady strength.
Threatening to cut off gas and water to two hundred family noodle stalls because you lost a cooking show is pathetic, Lin Mo thought deadpan. A monopoly on food is a tax on basic human survival. And withholding rent for eighteen months to bankrupt an honest landlord is classic corporate banditry. The quickest cure for a predatory tenant is buying the property and throwing him out into the rain.
Lin Mo looked at the weary, upright developer. A soft blue notification window expanded in his vision:
[TARGET: DIRECTOR SUN GUOHUA]
[GOODNESS SCORE: 88/100 — LIFELONG CULTURAL CONSERVATIONIST, REFUSED BRIBES TO DEMOLISH HISTORIC STREET, BANKRUPTED DEFENDING TENANTS]
[FINANCIAL CRISIS: ¥50,000,000 JUDICIAL DEFAULT SUMMONS DUE AT 9:00 AM]
[ASSETS CONTROLLED: 100% FREEHOLD TITLE TO 2-KILOMETER OLD LANTERN FOOD STREET & 8-STORY GOLDEN-LOTUS BANQUET HALL]
Eighty-eight points of goodness, Lin Mo noted. A man who went broke protecting street culture from greedy vultures. This is another pure-hearted pillar who deserves every dollar in my vault.
“Director Sun,” Lin Mo said calmly. “How much capital is required to clear all your court judgments, eliminate your corporate debt, and purchase the complete master freehold title to this entire street and the eight-story banquet hall?”
Director Sun blinked, staring at Lin Mo in bewilderment. “Chairman Lin... the court judgment is exactly fifty million yuan. If someone pays fifty million directly to the judicial escrow account, the debt is cleared instantly. The full master freehold deed transfers to the buyer without encumbrance.”
Director Sun shook his head with a bitter sigh. “But who has fifty million in pure, liquid cash at one in the morning?”
Lin Mo smiled faintly. He turned to Su Wan.
“Su Wan, open the municipal judicial settlement portal,” Lin Mo commanded. “Execute an immediate transfer of fifty million yuan to the Jiangcheng Intermediate People’s Court escrow account for Director Sun’s corporate restructuring. Purchase one hundred percent of the master freehold title for Old Lantern Food Street and the Golden-Lotus Banquet Hall.”
Su Wan stepped forward, tapping her tablet with practiced speed.
Lin Mo pulled the Black-Gold Benevolence Card from his coat pocket and tapped it against the mobile terminal: ¥50,000,000.00.
BEEP.
A high-priority electronic confirmation ping sounded from Su Wan’s tablet:
[MUNICIPAL JUDICIAL SETTLEMENT CONFIRMED: ¥50,000,000.00 CLEARED]
[CASE #2026-COMM-8812 TERMINATED: ALL DEBTS SATISFIED IN FULL]
[PROPERTY TITLE TRANSFERRED: OLD LANTERN FOOD STREET & GOLDEN-LOTUS BANQUET HALL TO TAICHU BENEVOLENCE GROUP]
Before Zhao Peng could even process the words, a magnificent celestial chime resonated deep within Lin Mo’s soul:
[Ding! Detected spending of ¥50,000,000.00 RMB on Director Sun Guohua (Goodness: 88/100) and Old Lantern Cultural Sanctuary Buyout!]
[Target Integrity Verified: Saving historic cultural heritage and protecting two hundred independent artisans from monopoly eviction.]
[Triggered 100x Pure Benevolence System Refund!]
[Received Cash Refund: +¥5,000,000,000.00 RMB!]
[Funds deposited directly into Host Personal Liquid Vault!]
[Personal Liquid Vault: ¥42,000,000,000.00 RMB!]
[Benevolence Merit Points: +5,000,000 BMP!]
[Good People Network Expanded: 7,800 verified righteous allies (+150: cultural preservationists and street staff)!]
Five billion cash refund, Lin Mo thought, feeling the familiar, clean surge of qi flowing through his Iron-Jade Bones. Forty-two billion yuan in liquid vault balance. Spending fifty million to rescue a historic street and an eight-story banquet hall, and walking away with five billion in profit. Predatory bullies are the best business partners I have ever had.
Director Sun’s phone buzzed violently in his coat pocket.
He pulled out an old flip phone with trembling hands and pressed it to his ear.
“Director Sun!” his chief legal clerk cried out in weeping joy through the speaker. “The municipal court just sent the formal release notice! The freeze on all our accounts has been lifted! All fifty million in debt has been paid in full! We are completely debt-free! The street is saved!”
Director Sun’s knees buckled.
He fell to both knees on the wet cobblestones, weeping tears of overwhelming relief. “Thirty years... my life’s work is saved... Old Lantern Street will not be demolished!”
Lin Mo stepped forward and helped Director Sun to his feet with gentle, unbreakable strength.
“Stand tall, Director Sun,” Lin Mo said warmly. “Starting tonight, this entire two-kilometer street and the eight-story banquet hall are renamed the Grandma Chen and Taichu Hundred-Chef Culinary Sanctuary. You remain General Manager of the cultural district with a lifetime ten percent management dividend and full administrative control.”
“Chairman Lin...” Director Sun sobbed, bowing his head in profound devotion. “My clan will guard this street for Taichu forever!”
At the southern end of the cobblestone alley, the eight-story Golden-Lotus Banquet Hall stood illuminated under decorative floodlights.
Built with traditional flying eaves, carved redwood pillars, and a panoramic rooftop pavilion overlooking the river, it was the architectural crown jewel of the district. Director Sun had originally built it as an academy for traditional culinary arts before Gourmet-King seized it.
Lin Mo looked up at the majestic redwood building.
“Starting tomorrow, floors one through seven will serve affordable, wholesome banquet meals for ordinary citizens and working families,” Lin Mo announced. “And the eighth floor will house the Taichu Heritage Culinary Academy, where master chefs like Lao Tang and Grandma Liu will train young apprentices for free.”
Zhao Peng stood frozen on the cobblestones, his eyes bulging in utter, horrified disbelief.
“Fifty million... in liquid cash... at one in the morning?!” Zhao Peng shrieked, his voice cracking with hysteria. “How is that possible?! You bought the whole street?!”
Chief Counsel Shen Qiaoqiao stepped forward, adjusting her glasses with a cold, predatory smile.
She pulled out a freshly stamped electronic certificate from her tablet and displayed it directly in front of Zhao Peng’s face.
“Under Article Forty-Seven of the National Commercial Tenancy Code,” Shen Qiaoqiao said, her voice sharp and clear. “Any commercial subtenant who attempts intentional sabotage of public municipal utilities commits a material breach. This results in the immediate, unconditional cancellation of all tenancy rights with zero compensation.”
Shen Qiaoqiao turned toward Commander Tie Niu.
“Commander Tie, Gourmet-King Monopoly’s sublease on this street and the Golden-Lotus Banquet Hall is officially void,” Shen Qiaoqiao commanded. “Remove this trespasser and his thugs from Taichu property.”
Tie Niu stepped forward like a towering mountain.
He grabbed Zhao Peng by the silk collar of his designer jacket, lifting the screaming playboy three feet off the ground with one arm.
“Put me down! Do you know who my father is?!” Zhao Peng shrieked, kicking his legs in mid-air.
Tie Niu did not utter a single word. He carried Zhao Peng to the entrance of the cobblestone archway and hurled him into the muddy street outside, sending him tumbling across the wet asphalt.
The six bodyguards and four corporate lawyers scrambled out of the alley after their boss, not daring to look back.
The two hundred street chefs and thousands of midnight diners erupted into wild cheers.
Grandma Liu clapped her hands, tears of joy streaming down her face, while Master Chef Lao Tang and Grandma Chen smiled warmly from behind the counter.
Out on the avenue, Zhao Peng hauled himself up from the muddy gutter, his designer jacket soaked in filthy water.
His face was contorted into a mask of psychotic, humiliated rage.
He whipped out his phone and dialed Jiangcheng’s three largest food cartel bosses. He called Boss Qian of seafood, Boss Ma of pork, and Boss Wang of grain.
“Listen to me, Boss Qian! Boss Ma! Boss Wang!” Zhao Peng screamed into the phone, spit flying into the night air. “Taichu bought Old Lantern Street! I want every cold-storage warehouse in Jiangcheng locked down immediately! Starting tonight, not a single pound of live river shrimp, fresh pork, free-range chicken, or unbleached flour is to be sold to Taichu Group! Lock the freezer gates at the central abattoir! Seal the wholesale docks along the river! I will pay triple compensation for any delayed restaurant orders! Cut their supply lines completely! Let us see Grandma Chen wrap her precious wontons with thin air tomorrow morning!”
Zhao Peng slammed the phone shut, panting in the freezing rain as his drivers scrambled to open the limousine door.
High above the cobblestone street, on the eighth-floor balcony of the newly acquired Golden-Lotus Banquet Hall, Lin Mo stood looking out over the winding river. The night wind whipped his coat, but his expression remained relaxed and unhurried.
Beside him, Master Lu Jian adjusted his eyeglasses, looking toward the distant cargo docks with a slight frown. “Chairman Lin, Zhao Peng controls the wholesale middlemen in the city center. If he seals the local warehouses, where will our two hundred kitchens source twenty thousand pounds of fresh meat and seafood before sunrise?”
Lin Mo unscrewed his thermos and took a quiet sip of warm tea.
“A supply boycott is the last desperate move of a dying monopoly,” Lin Mo said softly. “When a predator locks the city gates, he forgets that Jiangcheng sits on the greatest river in the country. Su Wan, call Old Captain Zheng and Rider Captain Old Ma. It is time to deploy the Taichu fleet.”