Morning in Beihai. The sea mist clinging to Guantouling had yet to disperse. Chen Feng, now clad in a sharp, well-tailored suit, slid into a pristine BMW 5-Series.
The car wasn't his.
Having hovered around Beihai's second-hand brokerage circles for years, his core asset wasn't cash—it was "Right of Use." This car belonged to an overseas Chinese citizen who was desperate to return home and had entrusted Chen Feng to sell it. In his hands, this was called a "liquid asset."
Chen Feng parked in front of a high-end dim sum restaurant. He didn't rush inside. Instead, he checked his hair in the rearview mirror and grabbed a leather briefcase from the passenger seat. It was worn in just the right places and stuffed with printed "draft contracts."
He pulled out his phone and opened the social media account he kept visible to all his targets.
Moments Update:
[Image: A blurred land-use planning map, with the edge of an expensive tea set in the frame.]
Caption: "Busy until 3:00 AM, and back to negotiating land deals at 6:00 AM. The pace in Beihai is too fast; sometimes I really miss a simple bowl of sweet soup on the Old Street. Whether something is worth investing in depends on the heart, not the money."
Click. Post.
In less than thirty seconds, the likes began to flood in.
Lin Yue liked it. Manny commented, "Hard work, hubby!" Sister Zhou sent a cold private message: "Send me your location."
Chen Feng ignored Sister Zhou and opened Manny's chat box.
Chen Feng: "Manny, that big client from last night took an interest in the bridging loan quota for my luxury car inventory. I need to recoup some capital. That 5,000 helped a lot, but I'm still a bit short. You know a lot of people—any of your friends interested in earning some interest on a short-term gap?"
Manny: "Hubby, I have some private savings, about 30,000. Is that enough? Don't go looking for anyone else. I don't want you owing favors to strangers."
Chen Feng stared at the number "30,000." A flash of mockery crossed his eyes, but his fingers flew across the screen:
"The money isn't important. What's important is that you're worth the effort. Consider this a loan from you—I'll pay you back next week with interest."
This was his logic: Never ask for money directly. Make them feel they are "saving the day" or "investing in the future."
After breakfast, Chen Feng drove to the Old Street. Tucked away there was a small storefront with a sign that read "Consultancy Firm." This was his den.
As he entered, a woman in a slip dress and sunglasses was already waiting.
Target Number 4: Su Ya.
Su Ya was 32, recently divorced with a massive settlement. Her eyes held a world-weary exhaustion mixed with a thirst for fresh excitement.
"Big boss Chen, you're a busy man," Su Ya said, removing her sunglasses as she eyed the BMW. "Nice car."
"A client gave it to me to settle a debt. I find it a bit too stodgy, so I'm planning to offload it," Chen Feng said, tossing his briefcase onto the table and pulling out a chair with crisp, decisive movements. "Miss Su, I've finished the traffic report for the Douyin account you wanted. The follower count isn't huge, but they're all high-end local tourists in Beihai. You can monetize this immediately."
He didn't talk about feelings; he only talked about money.
For a woman like Su Ya, direct flirting was a rookie move. Demonstrating "professionalism" and "financial confidence" was the ultimate seduction.
"You oversee even small deals like this personally?" Su Ya leaned in, the scent of expensive perfume filling the air.
"Business isn't about size; it's about logic." Chen Feng looked up, his deep gaze meeting hers. "Just like people—I only deal with those who have clear logic. You're a smart woman, Miss Su. Between smart people, words are unnecessary."
Su Ya laughed, a charming, sultry sound. "Then does a 'smart person' have time for dinner tonight? My treat."
"Not tonight. I have a gathering with old friends," Chen Feng declined firmly.
Rejection was the best way to maintain his market value.
The interest in Su Ya's eyes intensified. She pulled a business card from her bag and tucked it into Chen Feng's shirt pocket. "I'll wait for your call then. By the way... I'm in on that account."
The moment Su Ya left, the smile vanished from Chen Feng's face. He checked a message from Lin Yue.
Lin Yue: "Feng, I just went to the entrance of the police station to wait for you. Why did the officer say they have no record of your name? Where are you? Where exactly are you?!"
Chen Feng's fingers tightened. The "backyard" was on fire.
He didn't panic. Instead, he calmly dialed a number. "Hey, Qiang. Do me a favor. Get to the police station on Beihai Avenue immediately and put on a show. I'm sending you the script. Move!"
He hung up, his eyes turning cold and predatory.
"Lin Yue, you're too smart... so smart that I'm almost loath to get rid of you."
Just then, his phone buzzed with a new notification:
[Account Deposit Received: 150,000.00 RMB]
It was the "deposit" from Su Ya.
Chen Feng looked at the amount and allowed his first genuine smile of the day to surface. He dialed Manny's number, his voice becoming so tender it could melt iron:
"Babe, where do you want to eat tonight? I've booked the best restaurant in town to celebrate our future."