The skies over Wuhan International Airport were busier than they had been in months. In the span of three hours, seven private jets had descended like rare, exotic birds gliding to roost. Their glossy fuselages gleamed under the late-morning sun, each one carrying passengers whose names never appeared on public manifests—individuals who were spoken of only in boardrooms, power corridors, and whispered conversations in aristocratic circles.
By noon, the city's roads groaned under an unusual surge of traffic. Convoys of black sedans, Rolls-Royce Phantoms, Maybachs, and stretch Bentleys crawled toward the city center in sleek, serpentine lines. Blue-uniformed traffic police stood at key junctions, directing the flow with an urgency that was almost ceremonial. The general public, oblivious to the real reason, could only speculate—
"Some foreign dignitary must be visiting."
"Maybe it's the President himself."
"Whoever it is, they've locked down half the city."
Few knew that the true magnet pulling this tide of wealth and influence was not a political summit, nor a royal state visit, but the opening of a single restaurant—Qianyan Pavilion.
By the time the first cluster of luxury vehicles reached Jiangshen Road, the atmosphere outside the restaurant was electric. The entire block had been cordoned off, patrolled by a quiet army of private security in tailored black suits, each wearing discreet earpieces. A deep, crimson twenty-meter red carpet stretched from the curb to the restaurant's grand entrance, bordered by sculpted floral arches spilling with white orchids, blush peonies, and sprays of gold-painted leaves that shimmered under warm spotlights.
A custom-built media wall stood at the beginning of the carpet—its backdrop a blend of midnight silk and gold calligraphy spelling "Qianyan Pavilion × Prada," the co-branding so seamless it looked like a timeless seal of heritage. Cameramen from only the most prestigious publications hovered, lenses glinting, their movements choreographed and disciplined.
Soft strains of a guqin floated through the air, mingling with the faint perfume of gardenias from the floral arrangements. On either side of the entrance, two towering crystal vases held arrangements of rare Phalaenopsis orchids imported from Thailand, their petals so perfect they seemed sculpted from porcelain. Every surface reflected restrained opulence—ivory marble underfoot, gold-leaf trim on the archways, and above the entrance, the Qianyan Pavilion nameplate carved from a single slab of jade and lit from within, giving it a warm, almost ethereal glow.
The guests had yet to arrive, but the anticipation was palpable. The air outside shimmered—not just with light, but with expectation, prestige, and the quiet knowledge that what was about to happen here would ripple through every elite circle from Wuhan to Beijing.
---
The traffic along Jiangshen Road was a sight to behold—a gleaming parade of high-end luxury cars inching forward in perfect sequence. Under the glow of the evening lights, the procession resembled a moving gallery of prestige: Rolls-Royces, Bentleys, Maybachs, and Lamborghinis, each one polished to perfection, reflecting the golden hues of the setting sun.
Inside one of the sleek black Bentleys, Song Yuerong and her husband, Feng Zhaotian, observed the scene with quiet fascination.
Yuerong, in particular, could not help but be struck by the contrast between then and now. Her mind drifted back to the very first time she had seen the Li family—humble and unassuming—in her own kitchen, preparing dishes for a banquet. They had been dressed in simple, discounted rose-colored outfits, the kind one could find at a seasonal sale. Yet the moment she tasted their food, she had known they possessed a rare gift.
Still, the transformation had been so swift and seamless that even now, watching the city glitter in anticipation of their restaurant's opening, she found it hard to believe.
"Honey," she said softly, her eyes fixed on the endless row of luxury vehicles, "I still can't wrap my head around the fact that all of this—this entire spectacle—is for the opening of a restaurant. The whole city seems to be glowing tonight, and the security is so tight you'd think the president himself was visiting Wuhan."
Feng Zhaotian let out a quiet chuckle, his gaze equally fixed on the luminous skyline ahead. "You're not wrong," he replied. "Shen Waiyuan is, in many ways, no less influential than a president. Ever since the Shen family became an international conglomerate, they've practically stopped collaborating within the country. And frankly, they don't need to—domestically, they have more than enough power to stand alone.
"But the real intrigue," he continued, his tone dropping slightly, "is that in the past seven or eight years, Shen Waiyuan and his wife, Han Jingxian, have completely withdrawn from the public eye. They don't even attend the Winter Ball in Beijing anymore. Catching sight of them is rare; meeting them is almost impossible. That's why this hotel opening is just the surface story. The truth is—everyone here tonight is hoping to meet Shen Waiyuan."
Yuerong nodded slowly, the pieces falling into place. "Which means," she said with a faint smile, "that the Li family is benefiting from this attention in ways no one could have imagined."
Zhaotian inclined his head. "You've tasted Madam Li and Li Ziqing's cooking yourself—you know how extraordinary it is. Tonight's guests are in for an unforgettable experience. Once they taste it, they'll be coming back to Wuhan again and again, no matter the distance."
Yuerong laughed lightly, but her curiosity got the better of her. "Still, how did the Li family manage to connect with Shen Waiyuan?"
Zhaotian's brows furrowed in thought. "I honestly don't know. I can't even figure out how they first came into contact with Han Zhiyuan, let alone Shen Waiyuan. When Han Zhiyuan was appointed here in Wuhan, I tried every means possible to approach him, but he politely turned me down each time. He's… eccentric, to say the least, when it comes to social interactions. Yet somehow, he's built such a close relationship with the Li family? It's truly baffling."
Yuerong's expression turned contemplative. "My elder cousin from the main branch is also here tonight. I heard they're planning to discuss something important with Shen Waiyuan, and of course, they'll be attending the banquet."
Though she was from one of Beijing's four major families, Yuerong belonged to the second branch of the Song family. Her cousin, Song Qianming, however, was from the main branch—a man whose presence at such an event was far from casual.
The Bentley rolled to a smooth stop in front of the red carpet, where photographers were already gathered in anticipation. The moment the vehicle came to a halt and the carpet was cleared, Feng Zhaotian stepped out first. His tall, commanding figure drew a ripple of attention, the camera flashes igniting in a rapid-fire burst.
He circled to the other side, opening the door for his wife. Song Yuerong emerged with poised grace. The photographers' lenses clicked wildly, each one desperate to capture her serene smile.
Two young women in traditional qipaos stepped forward, their posture flawless and their smiles welcoming. "Welcome to Qianyan Pavilion," they greeted in unison, offering a polite bow before each handed over a crystal champagne flute filled with pale golden bubbles.
Yuerong accepted hers with a nod, the delicate stem cool in her hand. Arm in arm, she and Zhaotian stepped onto the plush red carpet, the steady flash of cameras following them like a trail of stars. The soft strains of classical music floated from within the grand lobby, where a golden chandelier spilled warm light across polished marble floors.
As soon as Song Yuerong and Fang Zhaotian stepped into the main hall of the restaurant, a butler approached with warm smile. He bowed slightly and handed each of them a crystal champagne flute. The soft fizz of golden bubbles rose against the rim, catching the glow of the chandeliers above.
But neither Song Yuerong nor Fang Zhaotian lifted the glass to their lips. Both stood rooted in place, their eyes widening in sheer astonishment.
The décor was unlike anything they had ever seen in Wuhan—or even across most of China in 2006.
Instead of the traditional palette of auspicious red, shimmering gold, and dramatic velvets that symbolized wealth and opulence, the hall had been transformed into an ethereal sanctuary.
The walls were draped in calming whites, softened with muted blues, and anchored by deep navy accents. Crystal chandeliers cascaded from the ceiling like frozen waterfalls, scattering light into gentle glimmers rather than blinding flashes.
Round tables with snow-white linens were set evenly across the hall, each adorned with minimalist floral arrangements—pure white lilies nestled in slender glass vases, surrounded by flickering tea lights. No ostentation, no overstuffed centerpieces—just elegance refined to its purest form.
The stage at the far end was equally understated. A sleek white piano stood beneath a wash of soft blue light, while a silk backdrop shimmered faintly like a midnight sea. Every detail whispered sophistication, foreign yet alluring.
A hush seemed to fall over the crowd. For a moment, even the murmur of conversations was subdued as guests took in the atmosphere, their expressions a mixture of wonder and disbelief.
Song Yuerong exhaled slowly, her voice filled with awe.
"Honey… have you ever seen anything like this in China? It feels like we've stepped into a European dream."
Fang Zhaotian's eyes gleamed as he scanned the hall, his businessman's instincts immediately recognizing the vision behind it.
"No… this is the first. Whoever designed this… they knew exactly what they were doing. It's not about blinding people with wealth, it's about making them feel. Look around—no one's even touching their drinks. They're too stunned."
Just then, a couple nearby whispered loudly enough for them to hear:
"This isn't China… this feels like Paris, or Vienna. Who would have thought a restaurant in Wuhan could do this?"
Another voice chimed in, half in disbelief, half in reverence: "It's beyond luxury… it's art."
Fang Zhaotian let out a quiet chuckle, lifting his champagne at last. "Art, yes. And a clever trap. Once people taste Madam Li's food in a place like this… no one will ever forget the experience. They'll be bound, addicted—not just to the food, but to the atmosphere. This is not a restaurant, Yuerong. This is the beginning of an empire."
Song Yuerong's gaze lingered on the stage, where faint notes from the piano began to ripple softly through the hall. She whispered, half to herself:
"And tonight, the whole city will witness it."
---
Zhou Yichen stood at the edge of the main hall, watching the awestruck reactions of the guests. The serene palette, the chandeliers, the carefully calculated elegance—every detail was flawless. He allowed himself a small, satisfied nod. Hiring that Singaporean designer had indeed been the wisest decision he had made in months. With that reassurance, he turned and ascended the staircase to the second floor.
Inside one of the private rooms, Li Ziqing sat in a modest resting corner, her delicate frame leaning against the back of the chair. The exhaustion of an entire day spent in the kitchen weighed heavily on her, and though her body begged for rest, her heart knew tonight was not just another evening. Tonight, her dream was about to take shape.
On the rack before her hung the dress Zhou Yichen had arranged—a gown understated yet elegant, perfectly suited to this milestone. She was gazing at it with a trace of nervousness when a knock sounded at the door.
"Come in," she called, quickly rising to her feet.
Zhou Yichen entered with his usual calm composure, though his eyes carried the gleam of satisfaction. "Miss Li, the guests have already begun to arrive. Judging from their expressions, I'd say the first impression is nothing short of extraordinary."
A faint smile curved Li Ziqing's lips. "That's good. And what about my mother? Is she ready?"
"She's still in the kitchen," Zhou Yichen replied with a polite nod. "Overseeing the preparations herself."
Li Ziqing's brows softened. "Once she gives her speech, you'll stay close to her and assist. From today onwards, you'll technically be working for her as well. After tomorrow, I'll be starting school and will need to step back entirely from the business side. Tonight, the responsibility of handling the guests falls on you. My mother… she isn't very comfortable with drinks. The toast, the wine, the casual interactions—you must handle them all carefully. Every person downstairs is someone influential. We can't afford to misstep."
Zhou Yichen nodded solemnly. "Understood." He hesitated, then asked, almost casually, "Miss Li… about the twelve chefs you hired for tonight—"
The moment the words left his lips, Li Ziqing stiffened. Her gaze sharpened instantly, guarded, as though he had struck a nerve. Did he notice? Did he somehow see through them? Even she, at times, forgot they were not human. That was how seamlessly they blended in. The humanoid master chefs she had summoned from the future were flawless—too flawless.
Her voice came out a little too cautious. "W…what about them?"
Zhou Yichen, oblivious to her panic, continued with uncharacteristic curiosity. "It's just… where did you find them? I had a chance to taste their dishes earlier today, and I must say—they rival even Madam Li's. Divine, in fact. And their appearance—" He shook his head in astonishment. "Frankly, if any one of them decided to step into the entertainment industry, they'd be instant idols. To gather twelve such talents under one roof… it's beyond impressive."
Relief washed over Li Ziqing, though she kept her composure carefully intact. Indeed, each humanoid chef was striking, crafted to look like they had stepped straight out of a dream—six men and six women, all young, beautiful, and exuding charisma. But to her, they were nothing more than tools. Tools to build her dream. Earlier she had only summoned 5 Master Chefs considering the small scale of event, but now the scale was increased because of Shen Waiyuan she summoned all the 12 Master Chefs.
"They were trained by my master," she said smoothly, her tone deliberately dismissive. "From now on, they'll be part of our restaurants. And when we expand in the future, they can be assigned to new locations. That's all there is to it."
Zhou Yichen inclined his head, accepting the explanation. Then his professional demeanor returned. "Very well. So, Miss Li—when do we begin?"
Li Ziqing glanced at the clock. The slender hands pointed to six o'clock. "Within half an hour. My mother will give her speech first. Then half an hour of networking, followed by the ribbon-cutting, and finally the dinner. Have the arrangements been made?"
"Yes," Zhou Yichen replied at once. "Six large banquet tables have been arranged for the tasting dinner. The chefs will be preparing dishes live in front of the guests—an exhibition of artistry in itself. The menu includes not only the lost treasures of the Qing dynasty royal banquet but also the ancient cuisines of the Khitan and Western Xia dynasties. And finally…" He paused, allowing the suspense to linger before finishing, "the Snow Phoenix Cuisine—something thought to exist only in myth and folklore. I daresay it will leave the entire audience speechless."
For a brief moment, Li Ziqing's lips curved upward, her eyes reflecting a spark of satisfaction. This was the advantage she had been waiting for. She was no fool; she knew these guests had not come merely to celebrate the opening of a restaurant. They were here for Shen Waiyuan. Still, it didn't matter. Tonight, they would witness her family's brilliance. Tonight, the Li name would be etched in their memories.
She thought of the guest list she had seen earlier. Elite families from Shanghai, prestigious names from Beijing—including the powerful Song family from the main branch itself—names she never imagined her family could draw even within a year of business. Yet here they were, walking through her doors. And all of it, in the end, traced back to one man—Shen Waiyuan.
Though she had never met him, she was indebted to him in ways words could not capture. If not for his indirect assistance, such a crowd would have been impossible.
Turning back to Zhou Yichen, she spoke firmly, "Good. Go and finalize the arrangements. The event must start within thirty minutes. Sharp."
Zhou Yichen bowed slightly. "As you wish, Miss Li."
With that, he left the room, his footsteps echoing down the quiet corridor.
Li Ziqing remained behind, her gaze lingering on the gown before her. Her heart quickened—not with fear, but with anticipation. Tonight marked the beginning of a new chapter for the Li family. A chapter she alone would script, and all of it was possible because of her system.
She whispered softly, her voice carrying both gratitude and reverence, "Thank you, System. I don't even have the words to express how indebted I am. In my previous life, at this very time, my family was still struggling at the very bottom of society. We had no means, no connections, no chance of entering this world. Every success of mine from this moment onward will belong to you as much as it does to me."
Her eyes grew faintly red as she spoke from the depths of her heart.
A calm mechanical chime echoed in her mind.
[Ding… Host, this is my purpose. I am your eternal assistant. You need not thank me. Just make me proud—become a business elite, the kind that commands the respect of the world.]
Li Ziqing's lips curved into a smile. She nodded firmly. "I promise, System. I will not let you down."
Before she could continue, another familiar sound chimed.
[Ding… Daily Mission triggered.]
Li Ziqing sighed, amusement flickering in her eyes. "How could I forget? The daily mission…"
Over the past few days, she had received missions one after another, each bringing astonishing rewards. The most common was the Skill Echo Coupon, which allowed her to transfer her skills to another. She had once used it to pass her culinary mastery to Li Jianfang, though she hadn't revealed the truth behind it. Another reward was the Spill the Beans Coupon, along with extraordinary real estate: a diamond-tier commercial property in Nanjing, just like this one on Jiangshen Road, and a luxurious villa in Wuhan's southern district—prime land that only the most influential circles could dream of obtaining.
Then there was the Overlord's Edge Coupon—a permanent use coupan. Once applied, it bestowed upon the recipient an aura of dominance, a natural presence that commanded respect and left an unforgettable impression. Li Ziqing had quietly applied it to Li Jianfang. The results were remarkable. The once soft-edged Jianfang now carried the air of a true businesswoman. Though still gentle in speech, her presence had become undeniable—her elegance, her calm voice, her celestial beauty now combined with her new commanding aura, turned her into a living spectacle. Wherever she went, people were left in awe.
Just two days ago, after completing a mission, the system had rewarded her with a Ferrari California in Blu Tour De France. Even she had been stunned when the keys appeared before her. When she asked the system why, it had merely replied that she would need it in the future. Without pressing further, she simply told her family she had bought it herself, parking it discreetly at the villa in southern district.
Yet none of those compared to what she received yesterday. That gift was beyond comprehension.
The Phoenix Vein Brew.
A tea unlike anything in this world, described by the system as a miracle from another realm. Its leaves glowed faintly as though lit from within, carrying a warmth that could revive even the frail. A sip could calm the restless spirit, sharpen the mind, and awaken clarity as though one were inhaling heaven's very breath. Its fragrance was said to be like moonlight wrapped in silk—ethereal, impossible to describe.
Though she hadn't tasted it yet, Li Ziqing knew that since it came from the system, it had to be extraordinary. She had been gifted ninety-nine porcelain jars of it, each vessel adorned with jade carvings and golden threads. Even unopened, they exuded a sense of priceless elegance. Each vessel contain 1kg tea leaves.
She shook her head lightly, still overwhelmed. "System… your gifts never cease to shock me."
With a deep breath, she opened the translucent system interface floating in her mind. The mission panel unfolded, and her pupils contracted at the sight of the words:
[Main Mission: Enter the Hospitality Industry – Build Your Own Hotel Chain]
Objective: Accumulate your first fortune—ten million yuan—from food and hospitality ventures.]
[Daily Mission: Leave a lasting impression on Shen Waiyuan and his wife, Han Jingxian.]
Reward: To be unlocked.
___
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