Lin Mo stepped out of the black executive van at the northern archway of Old Lantern Food Street at eight o’clock in the morning. Ahead of him, over one hundred thousand citizens, students, and commuters surged down the two-kilometer pedestrian avenue.
News of Gourmet-King’s shutdown had spread across every morning broadcast in Jiangcheng, drawing crowds from across the city eager to taste honest food. Beside Lin Mo, Shen Qiaoqiao carried her audit folders, while Tie Niu directed twenty Iron Guard veterans to assist local traffic police with crowd control.
“Chairman Lin, look at this crowd,” Shen Qiaoqiao said, pointing down the street. “Every bus line leading to Old Lantern Street is running at full capacity.”
Lin Mo glanced down the boulevard. Rows of red lanterns swayed gently under the eaves of two hundred newly renovated stalls. In the center of the avenue stood the eight-story Golden-Lotus Banquet Hall, its carved wooden doors thrown wide open.
“People have eaten enough poisoned food from corporate monopolies,” Lin Mo said, adjusting his collar. “When you offer honest broth cooked with real meat, hunger and truth do the marketing for you.”
A booming voice echoed from the central courtyard.
“Five yuan for a bowl of Grandma Chen’s fresh river-shrimp wontons!” Master Chef Lao Tang shouted into a microphone, wiping his brow. “And one hundred percent free for all sanitation workers, firefighters, and neighborhood orphans!”
Cheers erupted from the front of the line.
Grandma Chen stood behind a large stainless-steel soup station, her silver hair tucked under a white chef cap. With swift motions, she scooped glistening wontons from boiling cauldrons into porcelain bowls. Each wonton was packed with sweet river shrimp delivered fresh from Old Captain Zheng’s refrigerated barges at sunrise.
Beside Grandma Chen stood Little Guo’er, wearing a miniature yellow apron. The little girl sprinkled fresh scallions and pepper onto each bowl before passing them to the line servers.
“Careful, Uncle, the soup is hot!” Little Guo’er said with a bright smile, handing a bowl to an elderly street cleaner in an orange vest.
The street cleaner took the bowl with rough, trembling hands. His orange vest was worn at the seams, his shoulders stiff from twenty years of sweeping autumn leaves off the asphalt.
“Thank you, little girl,” the sanitation worker said softly. He pulled out a crumpled five-yuan note, but Grandma Chen gently pushed his hand back.
“No money from you, Old Brother,” Grandma Chen said warmly. “You keep our streets clean before the sun rises. The least we can do is give you a hot breakfast.”
Lin Mo walked over. His [Pure-Heart Eye Lv.1] blinked quietly in his vision.
[Target: Sanitation Worker Old Sun.]
[Goodness Score: 89/100.]
[Moral Status: Diligent, honest, supports an orphaned grandson.]
Old Sun sat at a wooden bench and took his first spoonful of amber broth.
The moment the hot soup touched his tongue, his tired eyes widened. A soothing warmth flowed down his throat, spreading into his chest. The dull ache that had plagued his lower back for seven years began to soften. A gentle golden heat unwound the tight knots in his shoulders.
“This soup...” Old Sun whispered, his voice trembling. “My back doesn’t hurt. For five years, I couldn’t bend down without sharp pain. How can wonton broth do this?”
“That is the power of fresh mountain pork, river shrimp, and Grandma Chen’s special lotus stock,” Lin Mo said with a smile. “Eat as much as you like, Uncle Sun.”
Two young firefighters in blue uniforms sat at the next table, finishing their bowls with pure joy.
“Captain, this broth is incredible!” one firefighter exclaimed. “My lungs usually feel scratchy after our morning drill, but this soup feels like cool spring water washing through my chest!”
“That is because it is made with conscience,” the fire captain replied. “No chemical powders. Just real food.”
Across the street, Master Lu Jian hurried toward Lin Mo. He held a blue roll of blueprints, his yellow hard hat covered in drywall dust.
“Chairman Lin!” Lu Jian shouted over the clamor. “Two hundred kitchens cooking broth at once are generating massive heat and steam. The municipal duct grid cannot handle this load without venting smoke into residential blocks!”
Lin Mo nodded calmly. “What do you need, Master Lu?”
“I designed a smart smoke-purifying array system last night,” Lu Jian said, unrolling a blueprint. “It uses centrifugal water filters with Nine-Palace air circulation chambers. It purifies grease, steam, and odor with zero toxic exhaust. But installing it across all two hundred kitchens will cost fifteen million yuan!”
Lin Mo pulled his black-gold card from his coat pocket and handed it to Su Wan.
“Su Wan, wire fifteen million yuan to Master Lu’s account immediately,” Lin Mo instructed. “Ten million for the smoke-purifying arrays, and five million to subsidize the Million-Bowl Pure-Heart Feast so every working person eats for five yuan or free all week.”
Su Wan’s fingers flew across her tablet screen. “Transfer authorized, Chairman Lin. The funds have cleared Master Lu’s account.”
A crisp chime sounded in Lin Mo’s mind as the system interface lit up.
[Ding! Detected spending of ¥15,000,000.00 RMB on Public Health Infrastructure & Food Subsidy!]
[Beneficiaries: Master Lu Jian (Goodness: 92/100) & 100,000 Working Citizens (Avg Goodness: 86/100)!]
[Target Integrity Verified: Civic infrastructure upgrade and universal nutrition for working people.]
[Triggered 100x Pure Benevolence System Refund!]
[Received Cash Refund: +¥1,500,000,000.00 RMB!]
[Funds deposited directly into Host Personal Liquid Vault!]
[Personal Liquid Vault: ¥46,500,000,000.00 RMB!]
[Benevolence Merit Points: +1,500,000 BMP | Total BMP: 139,449,528 BMP!]
[Good People Network Expanded: 8,100 Verified Righteous Allies (+50: environmental engineers)!]
One point five billion cash refund, Lin Mo thought, watching his vault balance reach forty-six point five billion. Spending fifteen million to feed a district and clean the air, while earning one and a half billion yuan in cash. Doing good is the most profitable business in existence.
“Master Lu, you have your funds,” Lin Mo said. “Get your crews to work.”
“Understood, Chairman Lin!” Lu Jian cheered. “My seventy apprentices are already on the rooftops! We will have all two hundred chambers running before lunch!”
Lu Jian ran toward the ladder to summon his construction teams.
Meanwhile, the line outside the Golden-Lotus Banquet Hall stretched for nearly three blocks. Over ten thousand people waited patiently under the trees, chatting happily and enjoying the breeze.
However, not everyone in the crowd came with honest hearts.
Near the southern corner of the avenue, a man with greasy hair and a yellow jacket pushed through the barrier. He carried four plastic insulated coolers. Behind him, three young thugs pushed shopping carts packed with empty soup thermoses.
Lin Mo activated his [Pure-Heart Eye Lv.1].
[Target: Scalper Boss Qian.]
[Goodness Score: 20/100.]
[Moral Status: Hoards subsidized goods, resells charity items at 10x price, bullies street vendors.]
“Move aside!” Boss Qian barked, elbowing a retired teacher. “I want fifty bowls of wontons! Right now! Here is two hundred and fifty yuan!”
The young counter assistant looked flustered. “Sir, our rule is two bowls per customer so everyone gets a turn.”
“What rule?!” Boss Qian snapped, slamming his fist on the counter. “Your sign says five yuan a bowl! Give me fifty bowls or I will complain to the commercial bureau!”
Grandma Chen walked over, wiping her hands. “Young man, this food is meant for hungry people from morning shifts. Why do you need fifty bowls in coolers?”
“None of your business, old woman!” Boss Qian sneered. “I have customers who will pay fifty yuan a bowl! Pack the soup, or I will flip this table!”
Before Boss Qian could touch the counter, a heavy hand gripped his shoulder like a vice.
Tie Niu stood behind him, towering over the scalper like an iron pillar. His dark eyes bore down on Qian with cold discipline.
“Friend,” Tie Niu rumbled softly. “Chairman Lin’s sanctuary feeds people, not parasites. You bought your two bowls. Take them and walk away, or I will carry you to the police booth.”
Boss Qian saw Tie Niu’s broad shoulders and the Iron Guard veterans. He swallowed hard, grabbed his two bowls, and backed into an alley with his three thugs.
“Damn security guards,” Boss Qian cursed under his breath in the alley. “Whatever. I still got two bowls of this magic soup. The rich clients at the business tower will pay two hundred yuan each for these!”
Boss Qian picked up a plastic spoon and tasted the broth.
He took a large slurp.
Immediately, Boss Qian’s face twisted in disgust. He spat the liquid onto the brick wall.
“Bah! What is this garbage?!” Boss Qian gagged, wiping his tongue. “It tastes like plain boiled tap water with salt! Where is the fresh shrimp flavor? Where is the warmth?!”
His thug took a spoonful from the second bowl. “Boss, mine tastes like wet cardboard! There is no meat flavor at all!”
Just then, Lin Mo walked past the alley entrance, hands in his pockets. He glanced at Boss Qian with a deadpan expression.
“The Pure-Heart Lotus broth only shares its vitality with clean hearts,” Lin Mo said quietly. “To someone whose belly is full of greed, pure broth tastes no better than ditch water. Enjoy your tap water, Boss Qian.”
Boss Qian stared in shock as Lin Mo strolled away toward the banquet hall.
Before Qian could shout another curse, two market management officers stepped into the alley with clipboards.
“Qian Ming,” the lead officer said sternly. “We received reports of illegal scalping of subsidized community food. Hand over your permit and step into our office.”
Boss Qian dropped his plastic coolers, his face turning pale as officers took him into custody.
Back on the avenue, the atmosphere was festive and lively. Across the two kilometers, laughter and the clinking of spoons filled the air. Children held steaming bowls with both hands. Elderly residents sat together on stone benches, smiling under the warm sun.
Su Wan walked up beside Lin Mo, holding a leather guest ledger.
“Chairman Lin, our opening morning is an unprecedented success,” Su Wan reported happily. “In three hours, we have served over forty thousand bowls of wontons and noodle soup. Master Lu’s smoke-purifying arrays are already online. There is zero grease smell in the air, only the fragrance of fresh broth.”
“Good,” Lin Mo said, taking a sip of warm tea from his thermos. “An honest business does not need to compromise on clean air or fair prices. How are supply lines holding up?”
“Old Captain Zheng sent five more refrigerated barges down the river,” Su Wan said. “We have enough fresh river shrimp, organic greens, and mountain black pork to feed two hundred thousand people through the weekend.”
Suddenly, the hum of heavy engines drew everyone’s attention toward the VIP drop-off zone.
A fleet of three black Maybach sedans stopped beside the entrance of the Golden-Lotus Banquet Hall.
Chauffeurs opened the passenger doors.
From the lead sedan stepped Zhao Kai, out on temporary medical bail arranged by his uncle Zhao Kun’s legal team and dressed in an Italian three-piece suit. His hair was slicked back, and a smug smirk played on his lips.
Beside him walked a tall European man in an ornate chef coat decorated with gold pins. Carrying a silver walking stick, the foreigner surveyed the street stalls with disdain.
“Look at this primitive spectacle,” the foreign chef sneered in accented English, pulling a silk handkerchief to cover his nose. “Boiling pig intestines and mud shrimp on an open street. And they dare to apply for an international gastronomy rating?”
Lin Mo’s [Pure-Heart Eye Lv.1] swept over the pair.
[Target: Chef Laurent.]
[Role: Asia-Pacific Golden-Fork Guide Vice-Chief Inspector.]
[Goodness Score: 15/100.]
[Moral Status: Corrupt, accepts extortion bribes for star ratings, colludes with Zhao Kai.]
[Target: Zhao Kai.]
[Goodness Score: 9/100.]
[Moral Status: Vindictive, seeks revenge against Taichu Group, arranged fake audit inspection.]
Su Wan’s brow furrowed as she recognized the foreigner’s insignia. “Chairman Lin, that is Chef Laurent, the Vice-Chief Inspector of the Asia-Pacific Golden-Fork Culinary Guide. Their organization issues the most prestigious star ratings in international dining.”
Zhao Kai led Laurent directly to the steps of the Golden-Lotus Banquet Hall, stopping right in front of Lin Mo and Su Wan.
“Well, well, Su Wan, Lin Mo,” Zhao Kai said with an oily chuckle, adjusting his gold cufflinks. “You thought shutting down my cousin Zhao Peng’s processing plant would make you the kings of Jiangcheng dining? You are running nothing more than a peasant soup kitchen.”
“Young Master Zhao,” Su Wan said in a cool voice. “If you are here to eat, please join the back of the line. The wait is approximately forty minutes.”
Zhao Kai’s smile hardened. “I don’t wait in lines with street sweepers, Su Wan. Allow me to introduce Chef Laurent, the Vice-Chief Inspector of the Asia-Pacific Golden-Fork Guide. His word decides whether any restaurant in Asia receives three stars or gets blacklisted forever.”
Chef Laurent tapped his silver walking stick against the stone step, his pale blue eyes looking down at Su Wan.
“Mademoiselle Su,” Laurent spoke with cold arrogance. “Your little street project is noisy, greasy, and lacks culinary refinement. However, my consulting firm is willing to provide a training program to help you qualify for our Golden-Fork Guide.”
Laurent leaned forward, lowering his voice with a predatory grin.
“My standard advisory fee is ten million yuan,” Laurent whispered smoothly. “Pay my consulting agency ten million yuan by noon today, and I will grant your Golden-Lotus Banquet Hall three stars in tomorrow’s global announcement. Refuse to pay, and I will issue a worldwide public report condemning this entire street for health code violations and rustic filth.”
Zhao Kai crossed his arms, his smirk broadening as he waited for Lin Mo and Su Wan to panic.
Lin Mo did not blink. He looked at Laurent, then at Zhao Kai, and slowly took another sip from his thermos.
“Ten million yuan for a piece of paper from a man who smells like sour wine,” Lin Mo said in a calm, deadpan voice. “You picked the wrong door to beg for money, Chef Laurent.”
Just as Laurent’s face turned purple with rage, the heavy mahogany doors of the private elevator behind them slid open.
An elderly man with silver hair and a dark blue silk robe stepped out into the hall, supported by two senior culinary masters.
The seventy-two-year-old gastronomy legend, Elder Gu, stopped in his tracks, his sharp eyes locking onto Chef Laurent.
“Laurent,” Elder Gu’s voice rang out with quiet authority, cutting through the hall. “Since when does the Golden-Fork inspection committee allow a junior vice-inspector to extort ten million yuan from an honest kitchen?”
Chef Laurent spun around, his silver walking stick nearly slipping from his trembling fingers as his face drained of all color.