One hundred and fifty elderly pensioners stood on the rain-slicked stone steps outside the locked bronze doors of the Jiangcheng Securities Exchange. Behind the glass, frozen red stock tickers blinked: ZHAO PHARMACEUTICAL & ZHAO REAL ESTATE: TRADING HALTED AT LIMIT-DOWN (-10.00%).
They were retired middle-school teachers, elderly textile factory workers, and widowed grandmothers. Many wore frayed raincoats, clutching damp brown envelopes filled with stock certificates and pension dividend statements.
Their Goodness Scores shone in clean, honest greens between 82/100 and 90/100.
An elderly woman with gray hair tied in a loose bun sat on the wet stone steps, weeping into her knitted scarf.
“My husband died of lung disease last winter,” she sobbed, holding up a blue dividend slip. “Zhao Pharma’s salesmen promised their ‘Elder Healthcare Dividend Shares’ paid eight percent annual interest. I put our entire family pension of eighty thousand yuan into their shares. And now the brokers say the shares are worth zero! How can an old woman live?”
Beside her, a retired mathematics teacher with thick spectacles leaned on his wooden walking stick, his hands shaking with cold.
“Our life savings were wiped out in two hours,” the teacher whispered, his voice cracking. “Zhao Kun lied on their public audit. They hid three billion in debts and poisoned drugs! Who will give us justice?”
Around the corner of the building, beneath the concrete ramp of the VIP underground garage, a black Maybach sedan was idling.
Inside the car, Patriarch Zhao Tianxiong sat in the rear leather seat.
The eighty-year-old patriarch gripped his ivory snake-head cane with bony, trembling fingers. His Goodness Score hovered in deep, rotten crimson: 6/100. Beside him sat Zhao Kai, whose Goodness Score glowed at 9/100.
The trunk and back footwells of the Maybach were packed with four heavy aluminum suitcases. Inside sat forty million yuan in bearer bonds, gold bullion, and offshore cash drafts.
Before the trading halt took full effect, Zhao Tianxiong had secretly dumped thirty million shares through an offshore Macau account. He stole the last pool of retail liquidity, leaving thousands of pensioners holding worthless digital paper.
“Drive! Speed through the alley!” Zhao Kai urged the driver, biting his fingernails down to the skin. “The news has broken everywhere! If those old beggars block the driveway, we will never reach the docks!”
The heavy Maybach surged forward, its tires spinning on the wet concrete.
SCREEECH!
A deafening squeal of heavy tires tore through the rain.
Two matte-black armored SUVs belonging to Taichu Group swerved across the narrow garage ramp, slamming their bumpers together to form an impassable steel wall.
The Maybach driver slammed on the brakes, stopping three inches from the front grille of the lead SUV.
“What is this?!” Zhao Kai shrieked, slamming his palm against the dashboard. “Back up! Ram them!”
The driver shook his head in sheer terror. “Young Master, those are military-grade armored vehicles! We would crush our own engine block!”
The passenger door of the lead SUV swung open.
Tie Niu stepped out. He wore his dark suit, crossing his arms over his chest as he stood five paces in front of the Maybach hood. He looked through the windshield with stone-cold indifference.
Behind him, Lin Mo stepped out into the drizzling rain.
Lin Mo wore his clean white shirt and dark trousers. He climbed onto the front steel bumper of the SUV, stepping lightly onto the hood. In his right hand, he held a megaphone. To his side stood Shen Qiaoqiao, holding a heavy leather legal binder.
The one hundred and fifty elderly pensioners heard the commotion and rushed around the corner.
When they saw the black Maybach packed with suitcases and recognized Zhao Kai in the passenger seat, a roar of collective fury erupted.
“It is Zhao Kai!”
“And old Zhao Tianxiong is in the back!”
“They took our pensions and now they are running away with suitcases of cash!”
Dozens of elderly men and women crowded against the Maybach, banging their umbrellas and fists against the tinted windows.
“Give us back our life savings!”
“You murderers! You stole our retirement!”
Inside the car, Zhao Kai ducked below the window line, trembling like a frightened child.
Patriarch Zhao Tianxiong rolled down his rear window two inches, sneering through the narrow gap.
“Get lost, you ignorant peasants!” the old patriarch spat, his voice rasping with pure venom. “You bought common stock on the open market! Market risk is borne by the investor! The Zhao family owes you nothing! If you block my car, my security guards will have you arrested for illegal assembly!”
Lin Mo raised his megaphone, his voice ringing out across the rainy street with absolute clarity.
“Patriarch Zhao,” Lin Mo said, his tone cool, flat, and steady. “Market risk applies to honest commerce. It does not apply to criminal fraud, fabricated financial statements, and illegal insider dumping.”
Lin Mo lowered the megaphone slightly, looking at the one hundred and fifty weeping elderly men and women.
The Zhao clan lived like kings for thirty years by bleeding the elderly and the weak, Lin Mo thought, disgusted by the sheer shamelessness of the old patriarch. They steal forty million from pensioners, pack it into suitcases, and call it market risk. It is time to teach them the real meaning of settlement.
Lin Mo raised the megaphone again, speaking directly to the pensioners.
“Elders of Jiangcheng,” Lin Mo announced, his voice warm, gentle, and firm. “You worked for forty years in the classrooms, factories, and hospitals of this city. You built this province with your sweat. The Zhao family stole your pensions through criminal deceit, but Taichu Group will not allow honest elders to starve in the cold.”
The crowd quieted, looking up at the young man standing on the hood of the SUV.
“What did you say, young man?” the gray-haired grandmother asked, wiping rain from her cheeks.
“I am Lin Mo, Chairman of Taichu Benevolence Group,” Lin Mo answered clearly. “I am announcing an immediate, full-value rescue buyout for every retail pensioner here today. If your Goodness Score is eighty or above, Taichu Group stands with you! If you bought Zhao Pharma shares with your pension, we will buy every single share from you right now, in cash, at one hundred percent of your original purchase price!”
The entire street went dead silent for two seconds.
The retired mathematics teacher adjusted his glasses, staring in disbelief.
“One hundred percent of our original purchase price?” the teacher stammered. “Chairman Lin... our shares are frozen at limit-down! They are worth zero on the exchange! Why would you pay full price for trash?!”
“Because your shares represent your dignity, not trash,” Lin Mo replied with a faint smile. “In exchange, you will sign over your minority shareholder voting rights and class-action litigation proxies to Taichu Group. We will take the Zhao family to court on your behalf.”
Several retired factory machinists in the front row dropped to their knees, pressing their palms together as tears streamed down their wrinkled cheeks.
“He is buying our shares at full price!”
“Our pension money is saved!”
Shen Qiaoqiao stepped forward, opening her leather binder. Inside lay one hundred and fifty pre-printed proxy transfer agreements.
“Please form an orderly line,” Shen Qiaoqiao announced through the microphone. “Present your national identity cards and stock purchase receipts. Taichu Bank will wire the funds directly to your accounts in real time.”
Su Wan stood beside her, opening the portable payment console.
Lin Mo pulled his Black-Gold Sovereign Benevolence Card from his shirt pocket and handed it to Su Wan.
“Disburse fifteen million yuan,” Lin Mo commanded. “An average of one hundred thousand yuan in cash for each of the one hundred and fifty pensioners, covering their entire original principal in full.”
Tap.
Su Wan swiped the card across the terminal.
BEEP.
A magnificent, celestial chime rang out deep in Lin Mo’s consciousness:
[Ding! Detected spending of ¥15,000,000.00 RMB on Defrauded Elderly Pensioner Relief & Proxy Acquisition!]
[Target Beneficiaries: 150 Defrauded Retired Workers, Teachers, & Widows (Goodness: 82–90/100)!]
[Purpose: 100% principal reimbursement for fraudulent healthcare stock losses and acquiring minority voting proxies!]
[Pure Altruistic Intent Verified: Restoring stolen retirement life savings to elderly citizens and protecting social welfare!]
[Triggering 100x Pure Benevolence System Refund!]
[Cash Refund Received: +¥1,500,000,000.00 RMB!]
[Funds deposited directly into Host Personal Liquid Vault!]
[Personal Liquid Vault: ¥93,000,000,000.00 RMB!]
[Benevolence Merit Points: +1,500,000 BMP | Total BMP: 185,949,528 BMP!]
[Good People Network Expanded: 9,800 Verified Righteous Allies (+20 retired civic elder representatives formally integrated into Taichu Trust)!]
One point five billion added to the vault, Lin Mo noted, feeling the numeric surge. Ninety-three billion yuan. Zhao Tianxiong thought he could sneak away with forty million in stolen loot. Instead, he just handed me absolute legal control over his entire family empire.
Ding. Ding. Ding.
Across the rainy plaza, mobile phones began chiming with bank alerts.
Notice: Your account has received ¥80,000.00 RMB from Taichu Benevolence Trust. Notice: Your account has received ¥120,000.00 RMB from Taichu Benevolence Trust. Notice: Your account has received ¥95,000.00 RMB from Taichu Benevolence Trust.
The one hundred and fifty elderly people looked down at their cracked screens, then looked at each other in wild, joyous tears.
The gray-haired grandmother fell to her knees on the wet pavement, holding her bank book to her chest and weeping with joy.
“My eighty thousand yuan... it is back! Every single cent!” she sobbed, bowing toward Lin Mo. “Chairman Lin! You are a living bodhisattva! You saved my family!”
The retired mathematics teacher pressed his hands together, tears streaming down his wrinkled face.
“Thank you, Chairman Lin! We sign! We sign all our proxies over to Taichu!”
Within twenty minutes, every single one of the one hundred and fifty pensioners had signed their proxy transfer documents.
Shen Qiaoqiao gathered the signed contracts into her red binder, clicking the brass clasp shut.
She walked up to the Maybach window, holding up the binder so Patriarch Zhao Tianxiong could see the legal stamps.
“Patriarch Zhao,” Shen Qiaoqiao said, her voice sharp as a surgical scalpel. “Under Article 182 of the Provincial Corporate Governance Law, acquiring more than ten percent of minority voting shares in a defaulted listed firm grants the proxy holder immediate authority to petition the High Court for extraordinary judicial liquidation.”
Shen Qiaoqiao paused, smiling with cool triumph.
“Taichu Group now controls fourteen point two percent of the voting shares of Zhao Pharmaceutical Group. We have already filed for emergency receivership. Every asset, building, bank account, and land parcel owned by the Zhao Consortium is formally frozen under court supervision.”
Inside the Maybach, Patriarch Zhao Tianxiong’s face turned from yellow to an ashen, corpse-like gray.
His chest heaved violently. He reached into his coat for a silk handkerchief, pressing it against his mouth as a dry, rattling cough tore through his throat.
COUGH! COUGH!
When he pulled the handkerchief away, it was stained with dark red blood.
“You... you insolent brats...” Zhao Tianxiong gasped, his hand shaking so hard he dropped his ivory cane onto the floor of the car. “The Zhao family has ruled Jiangcheng for fifty years... you cannot destroy us with a few old beggars...”
Behind Lin Mo, the one hundred and fifty elderly pensioners raised their bank passbooks into the rain, cheering for justice. Their calls echoed down the alley, burying the roar of the Maybach’s engine.
Lin Mo stepped down from the hood of the SUV.
He walked up to the open two-inch gap in the Maybach window, looking directly into the old patriarch’s bloodshot eyes.
“The old beggars built this city with their hands,” Lin Mo said, his voice flat, quiet, and cold. “You built your empire on their blood. Tomorrow morning at nine o’clock, the Municipal Debt Clearinghouse opens its doors.”
Lin Mo leaned in slightly, his tone unyielding.
“Tomorrow morning, we foreclose Zhao Tower. We will rip your family name off the roof. And we will turn that fifty-story skyscraper into a free workers’ clinic and vocational college for the children of Jiangcheng. Enjoy your night, Patriarch Zhao. It will be your last.”