In the heart of Wuhan's central district, a four-story villa converted into Zyntrix's temporary headquarters stood lit against the night sky. On the top floor, the conference room was cloaked in tension.
It was already past nine. The R&D engineers sat around the long oval table, their faces taut with fatigue, they had to fly overnight from Beijing but no one dared show their irritation, not with Shen Zeyan sitting at the head.
The boy's presence was unnerving. Barely fifteen, he sat in silence, his sharp gaze fixed on the rejected prototype lying in the center of the table. His aura was like a drawn blade—cold, precise, and dangerous.
Who would have thought a teenager could build Asia's biggest mobile phone brand? And yet, for the first time, Zyntrix had suffered a humiliating blow.
The world had shifted overnight. While they were still fine-tuning stylish flip phones and compact keypad devices, the Fruit brand had unveiled something no one saw coming—a sleek, fully touch-screen smartphone with advanced features. It had blindsided the industry.
For half a year, Zyntrix's R&D team had scrambled to catch up, burning through nights and millions of yuan trying to create their own touchscreen model. And yet, their prototype failed—over a technical oversight so basic it bordered on embarrassing.
The silence was suffocating, broken only by the faint hum of the overhead lights. No one breathed too loudly.
Finally, the manager cleared his throat. "C-clearly, the market's moving faster than expected. But, ah, perhaps we don't need to reinvent the wheel. Our flip phones still have an edge in style and durability."
A petite woman spoke up quickly, her voice strained but trying for optimism. "Yes, we… we could refocus on refining those. Add more colors, maybe a limited edition luxury line. The public loves the classic designs."
A man with huge round glasses pushed them up nervously. "Touchscreen tech… it's not like it'll replace everything overnight. We've hit a temporary setback, but the keypad market is stable. We could… shift back to what we're best at."
The manager nodded vigorously, sensing a lifeline. "Exactly. Touchscreens are the peak of innovation. There's nothing more beyond that. At least not for decades or two. Why bleed money chasing a dream when we already dominate the flip-phone market?"
The petite woman chimed in again, voice trembling but eager to agree. "We could launch a campaign highlighting how physical buttons are more reliable. Consumers appreciate tangible features, not just fancy glass screens."
The man with glasses added weakly, "Besides, our brand loyalty is strong. Even if Fruit dominates that niche, our customers—"
"Enough."
The single word sliced through the room like ice.
Shen Zeyan raised his voice, his tone made the air freeze. Slowly, he lifted his gaze from the prototype, eyes sharp as a predator's. His right hand was clenched so tightly on the armrest that fresh blood seeped from the half-healed wound on his palm—the same injury from the shattered teacup at the Mu residence.
The sight made several engineers flinch.
He spoke with lethal calm, each syllable measured. "Leave. All of you. You're fired."
The words landed like a thunderclap. Shock rippled around the table.
The manager gaped. "President Shen, we—we've been with Zyntrix for two years—"
"Then you've wasted two years." Shen Zeyan's gaze pinned him like a knife. "If you call yourselves engineers but can't think beyond what already exists, why should I keep throwing money at you?"
No one dared move. His voice, though quiet, carried a gravity that crushed any protest.
"You see a glass screen and call it the height of innovation," he continued coldly. "I see a future you can't even imagine. And I have no use for people who are blind to it."
The room was silent but for the sound of someone swallowing hard.
"Get out," Shen Zeyan said finally.
No shouting. No smashing. Just an unshakable certainty in his voice, more terrifying than rage.
The engineers rose stiffly, chairs scraping against the polished floor, the sound grating in the heavy silence. One by one, they filed out of the conference room, their faces pale, until only Gao Shun remained with Shen Zeyan.
For a long moment, neither spoke. The room felt suffocatingly still, the oppressive quiet broken only by the distant hum of Wuhan's late-night traffic outside the glass windows. Shen Zeyan's gaze remained fixed on the rejected prototype lying in the center of the table, his anger simmering hotter with each passing second.
Gao Shun stood motionless, sensing the storm behind his young master's calm exterior. The tension in the air was almost unbearable. Shen Zeyan's hand still curled into a fist. His knuckles whitened; the sharp crescent of his nails dug into his palm so deeply that fresh blood oozed between his fingers.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Shen Zeyan exhaled and spoke—his voice low, cold, and controlled, each word cutting like a blade.
"Fire them all," he said. "By tomorrow, I want a completely new R&D team brought in from the Capital. This time, don't waste my resources on people who can't see past their own limits. If our own engineers can't innovate, then we'll find someone who already has. Look into technology transfer opportunities—see which companies have the kind of tech we need. If their work meets my standards, we'll collaborate. If it doesn't, don't bother showing it to me."
He turned his head slightly, his dark eyes narrowing. "My plan to launch a new smartphone in China within two months hasn't changed. Make sure only the best proposals land on my desk. And until then… don't disturb me."
Gao Shun swallowed and nodded quickly. "Understood, President Shen."
Without another glance, Shen Zeyan pushed back his chair and stood. The tightness in his chest burned, his entire body radiating suppressed fury. Without a word, he strode out of the conference room, the door swinging shut behind him.
Now he wanted nothing more than to return to the Mu family courtyard, brew another cup of tea, and find a way to smother the fire raging inside him before it consumed everything in its path.
---
Meanwhile, on the third floor of Qingyan Pavilion, inside a secluded private dining room reserved exclusively for Diamond Membership guests, Li Ziqing sat across from three men. The dinner had ended, polite courtesies exchanged, and now the atmosphere shifted into a more serious tone. The man seated directly opposite her—an investor—was silently reading through the proposal she had brought.
Earlier that evening, Li Ziqing had been met with an unexpected surprise. When she arrived at Qingyan Pavilion, she found Feng Zhaotian waiting alongside Zhou Yichen at the entrance. She hadn't anticipated Feng Zhaotian's presence tonight; this particular meeting was intended solely to get acquainted with the new investor before the formal negotiations scheduled for later.
Before she could voice her curiosity, Feng Zhaotian greeted her with his characteristic warmth and explained,
"A'Qing, I liked your proposal so much that I shared a portion of it with my cousin-in-law in Beijing. The moment he heard it, he agreed to come aboard as an investor."
Realization dawned on Li Ziqing, her eyes brightening as understanding clicked into place. So that's how Zhou Yichen managed to find an investor within three hours, she thought.
She smiled at Feng Zhaotian and said softly, "Uncle Feng, I'm relieved to know the new investor is someone you trust. That puts me at ease."
Feng Zhaotian nodded approvingly. Before they could continue talking, the quiet hum of an engine drew their attention. A pearl-white Mercedes-Benz, understated yet exuding quiet luxury, pulled up at the entrance. From it stepped a man whose face struck Li Ziqing with a flicker of familiarity.
Where have I seen him before? she wondered. A moment later, it clicked—she remembered catching a glimpse of him at Qingyan Pavilion's opening banquet, standing alongside Feng Zhaotian and Song Yuerong.
Her suspicion was confirmed when Feng Zhaotian stepped forward with a genial smile.
"A'Qing," he said, "this is my cousin-in-law I mentioned earlier. He's the one interested in investing in our luxury resort project. Meet Song Renshu."
Li Ziqing smiled gracefully, taking two steps forward. She extended her hand.
"Mr. Song, a pleasure to meet you. I'm Li Ziqing."
For a brief moment, Song Renshu was caught off guard. He had assumed he would be negotiating with Li Jianfang herself—and truthfully, the prospect had excited him. Ever since that banquet three nights ago, her image had lingered in his mind: an ethereal beauty whose presence seemed almost otherworldly. Whenever he closed his eyes, her face would surface unbidden, delicate yet unforgettable. He couldn't explain why he yearned to see her again, only soothing himself with the excuse that it was mere curiosity. What he failed to realize, however, was that something far deeper was already taking root in his heart.
Yet now, instead of Li Jianfang, he found himself face-to-face with her daughter—Li Ziqing. A girl scarcely fifteen years old. For the briefest instant, surprise flickered across his expression. But Song Renshu was no novice in the business world; years of high-stakes negotiations had honed his composure. In the blink of an eye, his surprise dissolved, replaced by the poised charm of a seasoned executive. He extended his hand with practiced grace.
"Nice to meet you as well, Ms. Li," he said smoothly, his voice carrying the kind of authority that could command boardrooms. "I've heard quite a lot about you from my cousin."
"I hope I haven't let you down, Mr. Song."
Li Ziqing responded with a soft, confident chuckle, her tone warm yet unmistakably self-assured.
"On the contrary," Song Renshu replied with a genial laugh. "Not in the slightest. In fact, hearing about your vision for such a forward-thinking luxury resort, you've already surpassed my expectations. You're even more remarkable than what my cousin described. I'm eager to hear the details of your proposal."
Before Li Ziqing could answer, Zhou Yichen stepped in with characteristic tact. With a courteous inclination of his head, he gestured toward the sweeping staircase ahead. The crimson velvet runner, led upward toward the grand entrance of Qingyan Pavilion.
"Shall we take this discussion somewhere more private?" he suggested.
The group ascended to the upper floors, and after an elegant dinner marked by measured pleasantries, they now sat in the hushed exclusivity of the Diamond Room's tea lounge. The special attendants for brewing tea, had already prepared four cups of the Pavilion's signature spring tea and silently withdrawn, leaving behind only the faint fragrance of fresh jasmine.
Song Renshu and Feng Zhaotian studied the documents intently, their expressions betraying little but focus.
Across from them, Li Ziqing remained composed, though inwardly her anticipation thrummed like a taut string. On their way upstairs, Zhou Yichen had discreetly briefed her about Song Renshu's true identity. To say she had been shocked was an understatement.
Song Renshu was no ordinary investor. He sat at the helm of the Song Group—one of Beijing's most powerful conglomerates—and bore the weighty name of the illustrious Song family, one of the four great aristocratic clans whose influence stretched across the capital's economic and political elite.
Over the past few days, thanks to the grand opening banquet of Qingyan Pavilion, Li Ziqing had crossed paths with several prominent figures. Yet, even now, she struggled to grow accustomed to encounters of this magnitude. People like Song Renshu or Shen Weiyuan were not the sort of individuals one could simply meet over casual business dinners. Even the heads of billion-dollar corporations would rarely have the opportunity to speak with them face-to-face. For someone like her—a newcomer still cutting her teeth in the industry—it felt almost unreal.
To Li Ziqing, the scale of her luxury resort project felt monumental. But for titans like Song Renshu, it was a mere drop in the ocean. That made his personal presence at these dinner all the more extraordinary. She couldn't help but wonder: Why would someone of his status take time to meet with her directly?
What she didn't know was that Song Renshu's presence here today had little to do with business. It was not the resort nor the collaboration that had drawn him here, but Li Jianfang.
Still, none of that mattered to Li Ziqing. For her, this meeting was a golden opportunity. If she could secure a partnership with the Song Group, she could fully leverage it's connections.
Across the table, Song Renshu experienced his own quiet surprise. When he realized Li Jianfang herself would not be leading the negotiations, a trace of disappointment flickered through him. Initially, he had resolved to remain out of politeness, treating the meeting as a mere formality. But as his eyes fell upon the proposal before him, his earlier assumptions crumbled.
Shocked was too mild a word.
He lifted his gaze, studying the girl seated opposite him. Fourteen years old—barely past childhood—and yet the proposal's vision and precision far surpassed what even many seasoned executives could deliver. His mind briefly flickered to his own son, nineteen and still reveling in the recklessness of youth, burning his nights away with parties and carefree pursuits.
In contrast, this young girl was already standing at the negotiation table, helping her mother run a business of this magnitude with poise and strategy. A flicker of admiration—and perhaps a trace of envy—stirred within him. For the first time since he had arrived, his interest shifted, no longer tethered solely to Li Jianfang.
He leaned back slightly, a faint smile tugging at his lips, his voice smooth but edged with curiosity. "Miss Li," he said slowly, his sharp gaze locking onto her, "did you truly draft this proposal yourself?"
Li Ziqing met Song Renshu's gaze without the slightest hint of hesitation. A faint, confident curve lifted her lips. "Of course I did, Mr. Song," she replied smoothly. "I take my work very seriously."
Deep inside, however, her thoughts flickered mischievously. Well, technically, the proposal was drafted using the system's rewarded coupon. But since the system belongs to me, doesn't that mean the proposal is mine as well?
Feng Zhaotian, who had been flipping through the proposal with a furrowed brow, suddenly raised his head. "A'Qing," he said with a trace of curiosity, "you're planning to build a natural hot spring resort?"
Li Ziqing nodded with composure. "Yes, Uncle Feng."
Feng Zhaotian arched a skeptical brow.
"But that land doesn't have any hot springs. I've seen it myself. So… how exactly?"
The question caught Li Ziqing off guard for a brief second, her spine stiffening imperceptibly. She had nearly forgotten that Feng Zhaotian was intimately familiar with that parcel of land. After all, she had only used the Heaven–Earth Shift Coupon to create the hot spring there yesterday, but those who had seen the land before its transformation would have no way of knowing that. How do I explain this logically? she thought quickly.
Then, as if nothing were amiss, she let a light, confident smile play across her face.
"Uncle Feng, you've only seen part of the land," she said warmly. "But just yesterday, I revisited the southern mountain section of the property and ventured deeper into the woods. Quite by accident, I stumbled upon the hot spring—it was hidden away, shrouded by trees. I only noticed it because I saw steam rising continuously from the ground."
Her eyes gleamed with the conviction of a businesswoman who had struck fortune. "I've already decided to conduct a full geological survey with the authorities, but I personally examined the spring's depth. It's substantial. It seems I truly struck gold. Purchasing this piece of land was the best decision I could have made."
A flicker of surprise crossed Feng Zhaotian's face. He had been among those originally vying for that very plot, intending to develop a high-end residential district. But never—not once—had he imagined the land concealed a natural hot spring.
And yet, he found no reason to doubt Li Ziqing's explanation. The property was vast—over 16,000 acres of secluded woodland. It wasn't hard to believe that an overlooked corner could harbor such a hidden treasure.
Still, the realization hit him hard. She's right. Finding a natural hot spring on private land was no less than striking a gold mine. The opportunities it presented were immeasurable—luxury resorts, wellness retreats, tourism that could bring in astronomical revenue.
Feng Zhaotian glanced at the young girl before him with newfound respect.
Song Renshu set the documents down, tapping the folder lightly with his fingers. "I'm quite interested in this project. Ms. Li, the proposal is thorough, but I want to hear it from you directly. What's your vision?"
Li Ziqing smiled calmly. "Of course, Mr. Song. At its core, my vision is simple—create a luxury wellness retreat that exists in harmony with nature, not at its expense. The land itself is the asset. We don't clear the forest but we rebuilt it; we integrate with it. Every structure—from hot spring pavilions to villas—is designed to blend seamlessly with the mountains and streams. Guests experience privacy, tranquility, and a sense of belonging with the landscape. It's sustainable luxury—where culture, wellness, and environment work together to create long-term value."
There was a pause. Feng Zhaotian leaned forward and asked. "That sounds idealistic. But how do you translate that into profit?"
Li Ziqing didn't miss a beat. "By positioning the resort as a destination experience. We're not competing with standard hotels; we're creating a high-end niche. Wellness tourism is one of the fastest-growing industries worldwide. Our concept—onsen culture, eco-luxury villas, curated cultural programs—attracts premium clients willing to pay for exclusivity. The forest landscape itself becomes our brand."
Song Renshu's lips curved slightly. "And the scale? Sixteen thousand acres is… ambitious."
"Planned in phases," Li Ziqing replied smoothly. "We start with the core hot spring pavilions, main resort complex, and a few villas. As revenue and reputation grow, we expand into wellness facilities and cultural programs. The key is to preserve authenticity at every stage."
Feng Zhaotian exchanged a look with Song Renshu. "So you're selling serenity and culture as much as luxury."
"Exactly," Li Ziqing said. "This isn't just a resort; it's an experience that keeps people coming back—and talking about it."
Song Renshu nodded slowly, clearly impressed. But he didn't show any of it. He leaned back slightly in his chair, his sharp gaze trained on Li Ziqing. His words cut straight to the point.
"Let's be honest, Ms. Li. This project is no small feat. Even if the three of us collaborate, the manpower alone is enormous. Huiheng Group was registered less than a month ago, and you're talking about a multi-billion-yuan development? And according to your proposal, Huiheng wants the majority shares?"
Li Ziqing felt the weight of his words like a blade's edge. She knew this was where the real negotiation began.
---
Author's Note:
Get ready, everyone—the next chapter is going to dive into an intense negotiation scene! Honestly, I'm super excited to write it. 😎 I absolutely love imagining myself sitting in a high-stakes conference room, negotiating like a total tyrant CEO. 😅😃✨
So stay tuned for the drama that's about to unfold!
Until then, shower me with your love and support—your comments, power stones, and reviews mean the world to me. ❤️