Qi Xiuyi felt certain he had fallen into a nightmare.

It began yesterday at dawn.

First, he was driven out of the room he had slept in for over twenty years.

Then he was told he wasn’t his father’s biological son.

After that, he discovered his father pretended to be busy with him, yet picked up “the other’s” call in a second and gently told him to get some rest.

And now, even the elite young masters’ gathering he had always attended in person—he was being refused entry!

“I can’t go even if I don’t use the Qi family name? I’ll go as me—Qi Xiuyi!”

“Don’t give me this nonsense—where’s Li Yunhui? Get him out here. I want to talk to him!”

“What do you mean, Luo Xiaopang? You don’t actually believe that crap about me being usurped, do you? You’ll believe something that absurd?!”

“Stop talking in circles. I’ll say it one last time: get Li Yunhui out here, I want to—hello? Hello?? Hello?!!”

“Damn!!!”

Qi Xiuyi kicked the table over in a rage.

Everything on it clattered across the floor.

A servant at the door timidly asked if he needed help; thinking of how they had carried him out of his room yesterday and eagerly cleaned and prepared it for the “new young master,” he couldn’t help shouting back, “Get out!”

His face flushed, teeth clenched tight, and his two tear-reddened eyes looked as if they had been soaked in blood.

“Qi Wendong…”

The former young master squeezed the words out between his teeth.

The anger of having everything taken from him for no reason, mixed with the panic that he might truly lose it all forever, muddied together into a foul slurry.

From that murk, hatred sprouted and grew, wrapping itself tightly around one name: “Qi Wendong.”

Qi Wendong had stolen his father.

Qi Wendong had stolen his identity.

And Qi Wendong was about to steal his standing in the capital’s circle…!

Panic.

Panic.

Then it was wrapped and hidden beneath a layer of fire called fury.

Crackling as it burned.

His father refused to speak to him.

So he couldn’t persuade him to put things back the way they were.

What could he do… to take back everything that belonged to him?!

Suddenly, an idea flashed through Qi Xiuyi’s mind; a strange light burst in his eyes.

He snatched up his phone and opened his contacts. From top to bottom, in order of familiarity, he called them one by one.

“Hello? Zhiqiu? It’s me. Do me a favor—tomorrow’s banquet… if it works out, you can pick anything you want from my treasure vault…”

“Hello? Siyin? It’s me. You’ve always wanted my… I can give it to you, but you need to help me. Tomorrow’s banquet…”

“Hello? …”

…

The banquet venue was the Himalayas Hotel—also the original body’s long-time workplace.

It belonged to the You family, with extremely high prices—one of the top establishments in the entire capital.

In the original novel, during the protagonist’s early downfall, he often had to take detours around the Himalayas. After all, just walking a circle within 1km of the hotel meant there was a 99.9% chance of bumping into a “familiar face.”

Last night before bed, Lin Chen reread that passage and marked it.

He even wrote a sharp note: Must-settle scores gathering place – A.

“Hello, are you Young Master Qi Wendong? This way, please.”

Led in through the front door by the butler, Lin Chen was handed off to a neatly dressed hotel staff member, who respectfully guided him to the banquet floor.

Depending on the event type and the status of attendees, the answer to “May attendants enter?” varied.

At least for today’s gathering, the various young masters’ and ladies’ butlers and bodyguards were not allowed inside.

They were escorted to a nearby waiting area, ready to be summoned quickly if needed.

The banquet was on the top floor.

The top floor didn’t appear on the hotel’s public elevator panel; the staff took Lin Chen up via a “VIP only” elevator.

The meager hotel memories Lin Chen had inherited from the original body were completely useless today.

From the moment he stepped inside, the hotel was nothing like the one in those memories.

Oh, right.

When the original worked here, he used the side entrance for staff.

The front door?

Three years on the job—never once.

…Why not the back door?

Lin Chen: (smiles)

What are you thinking? You need status to use the back door.

A mere dish washer? Hardly worthy!

As the VIP elevator doors opened, soothing piano music washed over Lin Chen, along with a fresh, elegant fragrance.

Young masters and ladies gathered in small clusters, chatting and laughing with impeccable volume control—just within the bounds of social etiquette.

Only occasionally did a louder, theatrical voice carry across the room, accompanied by animated gestures—obvious attempts to coax smiles out of conversation partners.

Overall, it was a restrained, rational social affair.

From the elevator to the hall, Lin Chen took it all in at a glance and set the tone for this banquet in his mind.

The moment the unfamiliar, curly-haired young master stepped in, half the room’s eyes drifted—some openly, some covertly—toward the door.

If thoughts were visible in the air, many would have had score sheets floating over their heads, rating the new Qi young master on temperament, interests, capability, networking, and even height, weight, and—well—everything.

Such gazes didn’t faze Lin Chen.

He even poured himself some coconut juice, lifted a clear, guileless smile, and stepped forward to meet the young socialites coming his way.

A “Yes, I’ve heard the Yuan family is in coal…” to the left.

A “They say You family’s eldest is both brilliant and handsome—today I finally…” to the right.

He handled it all with ease, sprinkling attention without leaving anyone out.

The system, spectating from prime mental real estate, finally piped up, dryly: “Host, why do I feel you’d be a perfect match for a colleague in our neighboring department?”

Lin Chen still had the leisure to answer in his head: “Which department?”

The system mumbled, “Uh, the… King of the Sea, Scumbag Comprehensive Performance Department.”

Lin Chen: “?”

The more the system thought, the more it fit: “Sharing the rain fairly, never letting the room go cold, and a master of time management—you’re a born ‘sea king’!”

Lin Chen, coolly: “If you’re bored, sleep. Don’t interrupt while I’m working.”

System, wounded: “QxQ!”

Lin Chen: “All right, no slacking. Scan for Qi Xiuyi’s top three friends—their locations. They’re our key objectives.”

Dutifully, the system scanned.

Half a second later: “Huh, Host—on our hunting list, only Rank-1 Yu Zhiqiu and two others are actually at the venue?”

Lin Chen: “?”

Calmly: “If I’m not mistaken, I listed thirteen of Qi Xiuyi’s closest companions.”

System: “Yes, Host. Ten of them skipped today’s banquet.”

Lin Chen pondered. “But according to yesterday’s notes, they’re usually fixtures at major events—”

System, tense: “Something’s up. They’re not… forming a group to pull something, are they?”

Lin Chen paused—then chuckled faintly. “Not necessarily.”

Deeper inside the hall—

A young master in a blue-floral jacket whistled. “Hey, Ah-Hui, that new young master is exactly your type.”

He nudged Li Yunhui—the organizer of today’s event, freshly returned from abroad—waggling his brows. “And he’s not stage-shy. Well? Interested in going over to chat?”

The blue-floral youth wore jewelry everywhere—hat, earlobes, neck, wrists, lapels, waist, thigh, bare ankles, even the sides of his shoes—covered in assorted gems and gold chains.

Every move set off a cheerful jingle.

Li Yunhui took a light sip of red wine. “He doesn’t look like someone on his second day in the Qi family.”

While abroad, he’d dyed his hair a light gold. The curls, left untrimmed for a while, were just long enough to gather into a ponytail at his shoulder, gleaming under the lights.

His gaze did linger on Qi Wendong a bit longer when the latter stepped in.

The new young master’s hair was short, black, fine and obedient, faintly wavy and neatly combed behind the ear. In his left ear, a green opal stud glinted, half-hidden beneath the falling strands.

Aside from that, there was no excess ornamentation. Even his coat was the sort that fathers loved best—classic, understated, and grand.

Simple, crisp, yet still noble.

Paired with his calm, even expression, this Qi family’s new young master left a first impression on Li Yunhui far better than the He family’s recently “returned” true son.

The blue-floral youth smiled, lowered his voice, and murmured, “I asked around yesterday. Guess what?”

Li Yunhui tilted his head, intrigued. “Tell me.”

A puff of laughter. “He’s got great luck! The parents who ‘raised him by mistake’ were well-off too. He was a young master abroad for over twenty years, but when his adoptive parents ‘accidentally’ died, rivals swallowed the estate. For safety, he came back to China—only to discover his real family—tsk.”

Shaking his head, all bells and chains chimed.

“I see,” Li Yunhui summarized. “Firepower wasn’t strong enough.”

“Exactly,” blue-floral agreed. “Those long-term overseas families should really do more business with yours.”

“But—” he pivoted. “Now he’s a Qi family member.”

“Qi family,” said a gold-rim-glasses youth nearby, propping his chin and smiling gently. “A pity. That cut of meat is too big—some people won’t let go.”

He tilted his head toward Qi Wendong. Five or six people had gathered around him, conversing amiably. Others, like the trio here, maintained a tacit, motionless watch—observing the newcomer in silence.

After two glances, he drew back and, as if trading gossip, said to Li Yunhui, “I hear Xiuyi’s been fuming these two days—so much he’s willing to put up his antiques. Among them is even a Qi-dynasty celadon dragon-head piece that wouldn’t go for less than tens of millions at auction. He wants us to give this new young master a real ‘welcome’ at the banquet…”

“To be honest, I’m tempted. Li-ge, what do you think?”