At the venue.

The disturbance was quickly smoothed over. Aside from Li Yunhui’s table, many other groups of young masters and ladies were quietly discussing the Qi family’s new young master.

Compared with earlier, their tone was much milder and more measured.

In addition to Qi Wendong, another name entered the center of conversation: Yu Zhiqiu.

But such chatter had little to do with the people themselves.

Qi Wendong and Yu Zhiqiu moved to a quiet spot, exchanged thanks and pleasantries, and added each other’s contact information.

“I thought you and Qi Xiuyi were very close,” Qi Wendong said.

Yu Zhiqiu lowered his eyes, took a sip of wine, and smiled. “Why ‘thought’? Xiuyi and I are indeed close, which is why I understand his temper.”

He sighed. “Having his young master position taken by you—of course he’s furious right now. A little impulsiveness is normal.”

“But as a friend, I can’t sit by and watch him hurt others in a fit of impulse. Don’t you agree, Wendong?”

Clean and direct.

He refilled Qi Wendong’s glass.

Qi Wendong lifted the glass toward his lips, then seemed to think of something and set it back down.

“On that note,” he said, “my father has some opinions about Xiuyi’s recent spending—given future inheritance issues… so he’s thinking of cutting off his allowance early to help him adjust.”

Qi Wendong paused, and the smart one picked up the thread on his own.

“I understand, I understand. I only helped because Xiuyi suddenly lost his allowance and things were too hard for him…”

“But don’t worry, Wendong—I won’t make things difficult for Uncle Qi again.”

Softly, Yu Zhiqiu asked, “Still, it seems Xiuyi’s assets are in his hands, no? For this gathering, he’s determined to bleed heavily.”

“Assets?” Qi Wendong raised a brow. “They’ve all been seized by my father. What could he still have?”

“Antiques,” Yu Zhiqiu said, surprised. “I heard he’s gone all out this time, promising to put up many of his treasured pieces.”

“Have you seen anything with your own eyes?” Qi Wendong asked evenly.

Realization dawned on Yu Zhiqiu. “Empty promises!”

He frowned in displeasure. “Who promises like that—has he no fear of offending people? Next time I see him, I have to talk to him about this.”

He didn’t act overly warm.

Before leaving, though, he pulled an envelope from his pocket and handed it to Qi Wendong—open, without a seal.

“Here,” Yu Zhiqiu said. “A small meeting gift. Time was tight, so I couldn’t prepare anything nice. I’ll make it up to you next time.”

Qi Wendong glanced down—inside were various cards.

They were unmistakably VIP cards.

“You’re new to the capital and not familiar with the usual places,” Yu Zhiqiu said with a smile. “So I had them duplicate the cards I keep in my own wallet.”

“These are our regular haunts—already vetted for you.”

“If you don’t want to bring a butler and want to go out alone, and you’re too lazy to pick a place—just use these. Can’t go wrong.”

Not valuable in their world, but perfectly in line with the persona of “someone who’s on good terms with the old young master, but also wants to connect with the new one.”

Qi Wendong accepted them calmly and thanked him.

Yu Zhiqiu was about to keep chatting when a cheerful jingle-jangle came drawing near.

Two figures walked toward them.

Qi Wendong glanced over, his eyes first snagging on a head of pale-gold hair.

He fixed his gaze, then slowly let it drop to their faces—turns out it was the same two who’d been seated with the You family’s third son.

The blue-floral young master’s steps were as light as ever, as if he couldn’t wait to make even more noise with his ornaments.

He completely ignored Yu Zhiqiu and sprang to a stop in front of Qi Wendong.

Slapping a hand on his shoulder, he grinned. “Hey, Qi-ge—first time meeting, do you know me?”

Qi Wendong slowly brushed the hand off his shoulder.

“Fang Ji, third young master of the Fang family. Called ‘Little Ding-Dang’ because your outfits are too noisy. But it seems my dossier is incomplete—there was no warning about your preferences.”

Eyes wide with curiosity, Fang Ji tilted his head and circled Qi Wendong. “Wow! Don’t tell me you’re homophobic!”

“I’m afraid of you,” Qi Wendong said lightly.

Compared to him, Li Yunhui behaved normally.

He stood with easy poise and offered a hand with a faint smile. “Li Yunhui. A pleasure.”

Matching tone to circumstance—proper when met with propriety, quirky when met with quirk—Qi Wendong shook hands. “Qi Wendong. Hello.”

Yu Zhiqiu’s relationship with them didn’t seem close.

After a perfunctory nod, he excused himself from Qi Wendong and left.

Watching Yu Zhiqiu’s retreating figure, Li Yunhui told Qi Wendong, “You’re quite different from Qi Xiuyi. I hope we’ll get along better.”

Qi Wendong and Li Yunhui’s original relationship wasn’t good, and in the novel they often clashed when they met.

With reserve, Qi Wendong lifted his chin slightly. “I can’t speak to everything—but at least, unlike some people, I’m not completely useless aside from spending money fast.”

That was precisely what Li Yunhui disliked most about Qi Xiuyi.

He took a long look at the Qi family’s true heir. “I hope so.”

Li Yunhui and Fang Ji had come, literally, just to make friends.

After a brief, straightforward chat, Lin Chen finally went on the offensive—carefully selecting and meeting many of the remaining attendees he hadn’t spoken with.

His criteria were clear:

• Those close to Qi Xiuyi;
• Those explicitly named in the original text; and
• Those whose family holdings, per the butler’s dossier, made them worthwhile connections.

The reasons for approaching the first two groups were obvious.

As for the third, the system was puzzled.

“Host, you’re not actually going to be their young master—no splitting the family estate, no managing assets. Why bother with these people?”

Lin Chen gave a dismissive smile. “Where do high-quality new clients come from? If I don’t cast my own net, am I supposed to live off the original novel forever?”

The system didn’t quite get it and muttered, “Living off the original isn’t impossible…”

Most of the young masters and ladies were curious about Qi Wendong and happy to connect.

Lin Chen’s progress was smooth as a result.

Originally, top priority had been prying away Qi Xiuyi’s friends.

Who could have expected ten of the thirteen targets to skip the event altogether?

And the top name—Yu Zhiqiu—had “defected” outright.

For a moment, the entire venue turned into “Qi Wendong’s” debut stage.

After expanding his contact list, Lin Chen left early with He Mingliang in the evening.

Given how genuinely angry He Mingliang had seemed when the “accident” happened, Lin Chen was surprised—and willing to chat a bit more.

Sure enough, the whole way out, He Mingliang kept ranting: “I’m telling you, some people are truly nasty—see us as the newcomers to the capital and the circle, and just love picking on us.”

“I’ve run into ‘shaky-handed servers’ so many times!”

“And missing security guards, chandeliers suddenly falling, random recordings of what you said or did leaking online…”

The system sucked in a cold breath. “My god, Host—that’s too much!”

“He Mingliang was only found and brought back a month ago—how has he gone through so much already! This sounds worse than what the original protagonist—um, worse…”

Worse indeed.

In the novel, most of what the protagonist suffered hit reputation and face.

The worst was getting dragged into an alley by “street thugs” and beaten, face shoved into the ground.

But “falling chandeliers”… that was clearly aimed to kill.

Anxious, the system fretted, “This is bad, Host—will you have to go through all that danger too?”

“I’m not a ‘Dragon God’ system—I can’t buff your physique.”

“If it’s this dangerous, maybe we should just be honest and cling to the protagonist’s thigh!”

Lin Chen laughed coldly. “Spineless.”

“B-but I’m thinking of you! QAQ,” the system wailed.

Lin Chen closed his eyes, flipped through the original in his head, and thought.

A moment later, he said slowly, “No.”

“Hm?” said the system. “No what?”

“The original protagonist, He Wenyan, was very capable,” Lin Chen said. “As a young master, he had close ties with many scions and served as a leader in a small community of shared interests.”

“When He Wenyan was kicked out, that community’s interests would inevitably suffer, even collapse without its core.”

“Those most affected would come to hate He Mingliang, and it’s not impossible some would want him dead—just to force He Wenyan back.”

“So they’d strike fast and hard.”

His thoughts flowed smoother and faster as he spoke.

“Right now, nothing’s settled.”

“If they want He Wenyan back, they’ll secretly support him.”

“So, no wonder—He Wenyan was kicked out a month ago, yet the task you gave me was only his ‘first hardship.’”

“I’m guessing something recently made them realize He Wenyan’s return is impossible.”

For the first time, the system heard so much at once from its host and was thrilled into stammering. “S-so you’re saying… what’s impossible?”

“They’ll keep hitting He Mingliang hard, because his parachuting in ruined the benefits He Wenyan brought them.”

“But my arrival—what does that affect?”

“The headcount on their shopping sprees? Their choice of who pays the bill when they go out to play?”

“In that light,” Lin Chen said, “I’m actually much safer.”

The system got it and hooted. “Wow, Host, you’re amazing! You only met them today and deduced so much!!”

“By this logic, your ‘true young master’ position is much more stable than He Mingliang’s!”

Lin Chen doused it with cold water. “Use your cute brain. What’s our current mission?”

The system sputtered, hesitant. “It’s… it’s… to be a good ‘true young master’?”

“Wrong!” Lin Chen snapped. “To reform the true young master!”

“Ah! Reform the true young master!” the system cried, enlightened.

“In other words,” Lin Chen continued, “the worse Qi Xiuyi’s problems are, the harder the reform. But the contract is clear—we only have one year…”

“If we can’t finish in a year—your 30 million…!!” the system squeaked.

“Exactly,” Lin Chen said coolly. “So what we should do now is…”

“Reform Qi Xiuyi!” the system blurted.

“Re-sign—nation,” Lin Chen pronounced, each word like a gavel strike. “Go, resign.”

Lin Chen’s original identity, Lin Chen (same pronunciation, different characters), still hadn’t resigned from the Himalayas Hotel.

In other words, “Lin Chen” had already been absent for three days.

The original number had been canceled, so he hadn’t received any calls or texts urging him to return.

Without informing the driver or security waiting nearby, Lin Chen separated from He Mingliang after riding the elevator down.

He walked out of the hotel openly, turned into an alley, put on sunglasses, booked a car, and texted the butler once he was seated:

[Personal errand. I’ll come home on my own after I’m done.]

After getting out, he picked up a nondescript outfit at a budget clothing store, changed from head to toe, then had the system apply light disguise to restore “Lin Chen’s” original looks—adding dark circles, eye bags, and a pale complexion.

Once his identity was completely switched, he entered the “Imperial Immovable” Building to get a new phone number for “Lin Chen.”

Done, he used that number to text the dishwashing supervisor stored in the system’s archive: citing a brother’s worsening illness that needed care, he submitted his resignation.

“Whew—”

Only after switching back to his previous outfit and becoming “Qi Wendong” again did Lin Chen finally breathe a long sigh of relief.

Confused, the system asked, “Host, if you skip work long enough, they’ll terminate the contract automatically. Why go to all this trouble?”

“Quietly disappearing makes them think I’m dead?” Lin Chen sneered.

The system’s confidence wavered at his tone. “W-what would happen?”

“If you want them thinking ‘Lin Chen’ is dead and, when they hire a killer, they pick a random passerby because they can’t find me—fine by me.”

“!”

“No, no, that won’t do,” the system yelped. “You did great—really great—VERY GOOD. This was absolutely the right move!”

Lin Chen snorted and ignored it.

The system exhaled in secret.

After two seconds of quiet, it burst out again, excited. “Host, host—remember? Today is the original protagonist’s first day of suffering!”

“And where you’re standing is only 1km from his rental!”

“See? Even the heavens are encouraging you to find him!”

“Even though you now have a stable one-year job… if there’s a gap later, that’d be bad. So it’s best to build a good relationship with the protagonist—worst case, you can join his reckoning team as unemployment insurance. Right, Host?”

“You’re right,” Lin Chen said. “But guess why I chose to land at this ‘Imperial Immovable’ Building?”

“Lower volume. Start navigation.”

“Navigation started,” the system replied. “Total distance 1.1km…”

…

Qi family.

Outside Qi Xiuyi’s door, the long-haired and short-haired servants stood quietly to the side, leaving the butler, brows knotted with worry, to knock as gently as he could.

“Young master, you haven’t eaten since last night. If you don’t eat again tonight, your stomach will get sick!”

“…”

“Young master, Mr. Qi is indeed very busy these days, but he’s always thinking of you. Just last night, he asked me specifically about how you’ve been!”

“…”

“Young master…”

“Sigh, young master, please open the door. Sitting in there like this isn’t good, young master…”

No response.

Silence inside.

The butler sighed long and hard, head throbbing.

At this point, he almost preferred the smashing and tantrums from the first two days after the “return.”

Noisy as it was, at least the spirit was there.

And now?

Quiet as it was on the ears, the silence made it impossible not to worry—to let the mind race.

The short-haired servant hesitated, then whispered, “Lin-ge, they say kids these days are quick to get depression… to… you know… What if the young master…”

The butler choked with anger and hissed, “If you can’t speak properly, then don’t speak at all!”

The short-haired servant shrank his neck and kept quiet.

The butler’s chest heaved. After a while, he calmed.

But the infuriating servant’s words kept circling in his head.

If, at this very moment, Young Master Xiuyi were silently… giving up…

…Heavens above!

Even if he’d inherited this job through his grandfather, he didn’t have the head to pay for a young master’s accident!

Panicked, the butler paced in two tight circles—more anxious with every step, mind growing blank.

For the moment, he could think of nothing but forcing the door open.

With a pounding head, he pressed his temples and called the long-haired servant over, speaking low enough not to be heard inside:

“Hurry. Use the house phone to contact the other young master. Tell him Xiuyi’s situation is… peculiar and difficult right now. Ask him to come home as soon as he can. Go!”