[Ding… The daily mission—saving He Zenyu from jumping and ending his life, and erasing his suicidal thoughts—has been successfully completed. Reward granted.]
[Personal Summoning Card 2.0 — The skills provided by the System are extraordinary. Sharing them with close blood relatives is relatively safe. However, when it comes to outsiders, loyalty cannot be guaranteed forever. For skills of this magnitude, there will always come a time when greed overtakes gratitude, and even murder is not beyond possibility. Therefore, Host, this Personal Summoning Card 2.0 is presented to you. Unlike the original version, this card does not summon ordinary humans—it summons humanoids from another world.]
Li Ziqing froze, her eyes widening so much they almost popped out of their sockets. Thank goodness she had opened the reward in her bedroom—if anyone in the family had seen her current expression, they would have been scared senseless. She drew in a sharp breath and forced her pounding heart to steady.
"S… System, what do you mean by 'humanoids'?" she asked, her voice trembling in disbelief.
[Ding… Exactly as stated. These are human-looking AI beings—indistinguishable from real humans in appearance and behavior. They can speak, eat, drink, and even breathe like humans. However, they are not flesh and blood—they are highly advanced AI robots. This is a one-of-a-kind reward, Host. There is no guarantee I can ever provide this to you again in this lifetime. Summoning so many humanoids risks disturbing the balance of nature and space, as they are dispatched from another world. Use this opportunity wisely. The coupon has a fixed number of personnel, which you can summon all at once… or in stages, at your discretion.]
Li Ziqing read the prompt again. And again. And again.
Her gaze lingered on one line in particular: "This coupon is only one and can never be rewarded again."
Her fingers tightened around the invisible interface before she finally willed the coupon open.
[Personal Summoning Card 2.0]
12 Master Chefs — each possessing the complete knowledge of the legendary Culinary Sage Scroll of Yi Yin.
3 Exceptional Chauffeurs — unparalleled in driving skill including any car, plane, jet, yatch with precision and discretion.
5 SSS+ Level Bodyguards — capable of protecting against any known threat.
[Everything included in this card has been selected to safeguard the host's survival… and protect the invaluable skills bestowed by the System.]
"You're telling me… I can summon any of them, whenever I want?" Li Ziqing asked cautiously.
[Ding… Absolutely, Host. Whom you summon, when you summon them—it all depends entirely on you.]
Li Ziqing exhaled slowly, her mind spinning with possibilities. She closed the coupon interface and leaned back. Now was not the time. She didn't require anyone yet… but when the day came, these humanoids could change everything.
Completing her nightly routine with a quiet sense of satisfaction, she turned off the lights and slipped into bed.
This time, she slept soundly—knowing that in her hands lay the power to summon an army… and a future that no one could predict.
---
The following days passed in a blur of relentless activity. Everyone, including Li Zian, had little to no time to even think about his game project. Li Jianfang was fully occupied overseeing the renovation of her restaurant while simultaneously training the newly hired staff, ensuring that every detail—from menu presentation to service etiquette—was flawless.
Meanwhile, Li Jianping and Li Zian were tangled in the exhausting process of moving house. They were relocating to a prestigious school district near Wuhan No. 1 Middle School, a property gifted to them by Feng Zhaotian. The move was no small feat; it took seven full days to pack, transport, and arrange their belongings to their satisfaction.
When the moving trucks pulled up in front of Li Jianfang's current home, loaded to the brim with furniture and boxes, the neighbors were taken aback. They gathered at their windows and along the street, murmuring in hushed tones and not-so-hushed whispers.
"Moving to the school district? Hmph, must be showing off again."
"I heard she drives a Rolls-Royce Phantom. Guess living here wasn't grand enough for her."
"People like her… always chasing higher status."
"Do you think she bought that place with clean money?"
"She probably thinks she's too good for this neighborhood now."
"Well, we'll see how long she lasts up there. Big houses cost big money to maintain."
A few curious residents even approached Li Zian directly. "Are you moving far? Where to?" one asked with feigned friendliness.
Naïve as he was, Li Zian answered openly, "Oh, we're moving near Wuhan No. 1 Middle School. It's a better location for studies." He said everything except the part about the house being a gift—mostly because, truthfully, even he didn't know the full story.
Within hours, the northern district was abuzz with gossip. The talk wasn't just about Li Jianfang's relocation, but also about her recent acquisition of a Rolls-Royce Phantom VII. The question on everyone's lips was the same: Just how much money does this woman have?
When news of the move reached the Li family, Old Madam Li was livid. She stormed to Li Jianfang's home, but finding her absent, she took her anger out on Li Zian instead. After a sharp, scolding tirade, she left in a huff.
Li Jianguo, on the other hand, reacted with calculated calm. He wasn't angry—rather, he was biding his time, waiting for the right opportunity to mend ties and perhaps benefit from a closer association with Li Jianfang. His wife, Wang Yunmei, however, was seething. She argued bitterly with Li Jianguo, blaming him for their loss of potential gain.
"If you hadn't dragged us away that night," she snapped, "we could have squeezed at least a million out of Li Ziqing! But you… you pulled us back and left us with nothing!"
While the Li family simmered in resentment, elsewhere events were unfolding with rapid precision.
He Zenyu handled his legal battle with ruthless efficiency. Within a week, the case was wrapped up. Gong Mutai's fury was palpable when he learned that He Zenyu had refused any private settlement and had instead reopened the privious case in court. The outcome was inevitable—He Zenyu won, and Gong Mutai's company was ordered to pay a hefty penalty to the opposing side.
At the same time, Xu Jianrong had proven equally competent. In a short span, he had managed to lease out the entire Huiheng Tower—save for the first five floors. The building quickly became one of Wuhan's most sought-after office locations. Whispers began circulating in business circles about this mysterious new group that had acquired such a prime property in the city's central district. The deposits and first-quarter advance rent alone had injected an astonishing 230 million yuan into Li Ziqing's coffers.
Meanwhile, Zhou Yichen was fully immersed in overseeing the renovation of the office spaces and spearheading recruitment drives. He was also busy orchestrating the promotional campaign for Qianyan Pavilion. The city's elite were suddenly captivated by the name Huiheng Group—first for purchasing the entire tower, then for securing a diamond-tier location on Jiangshen Road for their restaurant.
The anticipation only grew when it was revealed that both Feng Zhaotian and his wife, Song Yuerong, as well as Mayor Han and his wife, Xu Shuhua, were personally spreading the words about the restaurant.
And just when the buzz couldn't grow any louder, an announcement sent shockwaves through Wuhan's upper circles: the President of the Shen Group—the richest family in all of Asia, Shen Waiyuan—would be visiting the city on the very day of the restaurant's grand opening. Even more astonishing, he would be attending the event in person… with his wife at his side.
The city's high society was now holding its breath. Something big was about to happen—and everyone wanted a front-row seat.
Li Ziqing was momentarily stunned when she heard the news from Zhou Yichen.
Shen Waiyuan.
Of all people, why would a man of such immense influence choose to attend the opening of her hotel? The name alone was enough to shake the foundations of high society—he was not someone who appeared at public events without a purpose. His mere presence could shift the balance of relationships among the country's most elite circles.
Yet, refusing him was out of the question. After a brief pause, she collected herself, and sent the invitation personally.
What she didn't expect was the chain reaction it would trigger. Word spread like wildfire. Beijing, Shanghai, and Wuhan's aristocratic circles were thrown into chaos. The hotel's opening, originally considered a small-scale society event, instantly transformed into the most sought-after gathering of the season. Invitations became a golden ticket—not for the food, not even for the prestige of the venue—but for the rare chance to network with Shen Waiyuan and, perhaps, discover the elusive figure behind the Huiheng Group.
In Wuhan, the excitement was no less frenzied. Initially, Li Ziqing had issued a modest fifty invitations, carefully curated to maintain an air of exclusivity. But after Shen Waiyuan's announcement, demand skyrocketed. The guest list swelled to nearly two hundred. When the demand was still increasing, she stood firm. "Fifty more invitations is the limit now," she told Zhou Yichen. "No matter how large the restaurant, an overcrowded opening loses its charm. So only 250 invitations will be sent"
When Li Jianfang learned of the situation, her hands trembled, and she very nearly fainted. "A Qing, how can we possibly manage an event of this scale with just the two of us?" she asked, her voice thin with panic.
Li Ziqing only smiled calmly. "Don't worry. I've already made arrangements."
Within the day, five master chefs arrived—summoned through her Personal Summoning Card 2.0. But these were no ordinary chefs. When they stepped into the kitchen, even Jianfang's sharp eyes could not discern the truth. Their expressions, mannerisms, even the subtle rise and fall of their breathing were indistinguishable from any human being. Their skin carried the warmth and elasticity of flesh, their voices had tonal depth, and their eyes held glimmers of emotion.
The system had been meticulous. Each "person" came with a complete set of fabricated credentials—household registrations, education records, work histories, birth certificates, even driver's licenses—ready to withstand any scrutiny.
Jianfang, still bewildered, finally asked, "Where on earth did you find such people?"
"They were trained under my master," Ziqing replied lightly, her tone leaving no room for further questioning. Reluctantly, Jianfang accepted the explanation, her anxiety easing—if only slightly.
The buzz surrounding the Huiheng Group and its hotel project, Qianyan Pavilion, was already dominating social circles when yet another shockwave rippled through the industry.
The August editions of the country's top luxury lifestyle magazines hit the stands. Every single one had Qianyan Pavilion emblazoned across the front page, accompanied by a headline that set the internet ablaze:
Prada to Collaborate with Huiheng Group on Qianyan Pavilion opening ceremony.
Not just any endorsement—Prada China itself was entering into a direct partnership for the project's launch. For an opening event to secure such a collaboration was almost unheard of, even among the wealthiest elites.
"Prada?" gasped one socialite over afternoon tea. "Do you know how many doors you have to knock on to even get a meeting with their regional director, let alone persuade them to partner for an event?"
"This isn't just about fashion," another whispered. "It's about power. Whoever runs Huiheng Group… they're no ordinary person."
And just like that, the air around Qianyan Pavilion grew heavier with intrigue. The mystery deepened, the speculation soared, and all eyes turned toward the woman quietly pulling the strings—Li Ziqing.
---
In recent weeks, the invitation to the Qianyan Pavilion's opening ceremony had become the most coveted pass in the upper echelons of society. People were willing to offer staggering sums just to secure one. The reason was simple—this was no ordinary gathering. Not only would Shen Waiyuan be in attendance, but the guest list also boasted elite figures from Beijing's high circle, Shanghai's upper class, and Wuhan's influential Hong circle.
The moment Gong Mutai's secretary stepped into the office, his expression was already grave.
"Mr. Gong," he began carefully, "I've tried every possible channel, called in every favor… but I couldn't secure an invitation to that event."
The words hung in the air like a guillotine blade.
Gong Mutai's head snapped up from the documents on his desk, his gaze sharp as a knife. The fury simmering beneath his composed exterior flared in an instant.
"This is outrageous," he said coldly, each syllable dripping with restrained venom. "Huiheng Group—barely a fledgling company—had the audacity to meddle in my affairs, aid that lawyer against me, cost me hundreds of millions… and now they have the gall to invite every notable name in Wuhan's upper class, yet deliberately exclude me? Do they truly not know who I am?!"
He slammed his pen onto the desk, the sharp crack echoing through the office.
"If it weren't for the chance to forge strategic connections, I wouldn't even care to set foot in that restaurant. But this…" his eyes narrowed, "this is nothing short of a deliberate provocation."
The secretary kept silent, though his mind was racing. They both knew the truth—at this moment, the Gong Group was on the losing side. Only a few days ago, during his investigation into that troublesome lawyer, he had discovered an alarming connection: someone from Huiheng Group was backing him, and the lawyer had now joined their ranks.
Digging deeper into Huiheng's background had only deepened the shock. The company, registered with a capital of ten million yuan, seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. Its founder—a single mother from the North District—possessed not only a prime diamond-tier location on Jiangshen Road but also a fifty-five–story commercial tower under her daughter's name. That alone spoke volumes about her financial clout. More troubling were her connections: Mayor Han, Feng Zhaotian… and now, the Shen family.
How does one fight an enemy who controls both wealth and power?
Gong Mutai leaned back in his chair, a dangerous smile curling at the corner of his lips.
"This…" he murmured, almost to himself, "is a declaration of war against the Gong Group."
His eyes hardened like steel.
"I can't touch them yet. If I strike now, too many will turn against me, and that's a luxury I can't afford. But…" he paused, letting the silence grow heavy, "…the day they dare cross me in business, I will personally crush them—down to the last stone of their empire."
The secretary felt a chill crawl up his spine. The promise in his employer's voice was not an idle threat—it was a vow.
---
"Schools will be starting from Monday. When is Shen Zeyan arriving in Wuhan? We still need to introduce him to the Master," Shen Waiyuan asked, glancing at his wife. She was standing before the vanity table, tilting her head as she tried on different pieces of jewellery, the warm light reflecting off the polished gemstones.
"He'll arrive the day after tomorrow," Han Jingxian replied. But then her hand froze halfway to her ear, her brows drawing together. Turning toward her husband, she asked with a trace of worry, "Do you think he'll be able to adapt here in Wuhan? He's used to living in luxury, Waiyuan. Once he's with the Master, he'll be staying in a small, modest house without servants to wait on him. He'll have to do everything himself. What if he resents it? What if he starts to rebel?"
Her voice softened, almost breaking with concern. "I'm already worried about his behaviour. When I call him, he doesn't say a word. Even when I'm standing right in front of him, he only frowns at me—as if I'm some sort of enemy. I've been wanting to call Gao Shun just to hear about his condition and whether he's eating or sleeping well."
Shen Waiyuan rose from the sofa and slowly crossed the room. Placing his arms around her slender shoulders, he lowered his voice in reassurance. "Don't worry, my dear. Everything will be fine. Once he stays with the Master, I'm certain he'll change. Sometimes boys need a different environment to grow into men."
Then, with a teasing glint in his eyes, he added, "But right now, shouldn't you be thinking about your husband instead? Look at me—I'm wearing the shirt you gifted me, yet you haven't said a word about how handsome I look. That hurts, you know."
Han Jingxian rolled her eyes, though the corner of her mouth betrayed a faint smile. Seventeen years of marriage, and this man still had the ability to disarm her with the same playful charm as when they first met. He was a dangerous addiction—one she had no desire to quit.
Her gaze softened. Would her Zeyan, with his cold temperament and sharp edges, ever find someone who could love him this way? Someone who would endure his moods, stand beside him through storms, and cherish him as she cherished his father? She could only hope this new chapter in Wuhan would change him for the better.
Unable to endure her husband's dramatic sighs, she finally gave in, cupping his face and pressing a slow, lingering kiss to his lips. His arms tightened around her, deepening the moment until the need for air made her reluctantly pull away.
Shen Waiyuan, grinning like a man who had just won a small war, sauntered back to the sofa, his smile stretching ear to ear.
Just as Han Jingxian reached for another necklace, a thought struck her. "Oh, by the way—what's this announcement you made earlier? And what's so special about this Qianyan Pavilion restaurant? Even my brother, Han Zhiyuan, and sister-in-law won't stop talking about it. What's all the fuss about?"
At the mention of the restaurant, Shen Waiyuan's expression shifted instantly—his eyes lighting up as if recalling some hidden treasure. The memory of the dishes he had tasted twice at the hospital made his mouth water. "You'll understand once you've been there tomorrow," he said, almost conspiratorially. "But I warn you… once you've tried that food, don't blame me when you get hooked. You'll find yourself making the trip again and again, just like I do."
"So it's that good?" Han Jingxian chuckled, turning back to the mirror. Still, curiosity tugged at her. What kind of food could make even her composed husband speak like an addict?