"Only by submitting tribute and pledging allegiance can the mansions and embroidered houses be preserved."
The final remark: "It's all about win-win cooperation!"
...
Every word was meticulously dissected.
Young Master Cao had said quite a lot, but only these fragments were picked apart...
At first glance, it might not have seemed significant.
But once laid bare, the picture became clearer.
"Submitting tribute and pledging allegiance"—wasn’t that just a call to bow and surrender?
Soon after.
Cao Cheng had someone distribute promotional brochures.
Each was handed to the attendees.
"Recently, our Miracle Daily Chemical Research Institute has developed four new elements, no less revolutionary than the X-Serum in disrupting the cosmetics industry."
"These four new elements, collectively called Miracle Elements, can be applied to most daily necessities."
"Such as toothpaste, shampoo, body wash, soap, and so on..."
"The reason we’ve invited you all here today is for win-win cooperation."
"Please review the brochures carefully, and we’ll discuss further afterward."
"However..."
"I only negotiate with partners. As for the rest, you may leave once the banquet concludes."
The room fell silent, save for the rustling of pages turning.
Viewers in the livestream witnessed an uncanny sight—
It was like watching students during an exam.
These business elites, heads bowed, scrutinized the material with intense focus.
Though the brochures’ contents weren’t visible on stream,
the expressions of many betrayed shock, delight, awe, and disbelief.
Truthfully, the brochures were highly technical, filled with lab reports and data only industry insiders could decipher.
For instance, a toothpaste enhanced with these new elements could activate abrasives, cleansers, and oxides, improving efficacy while reducing side effects.
Comparative results were starkly presented.
This wasn’t just about new elements...
This was money.
The elites instantly grasped the staggering value.
They knew cosmetics were just a sliver of the daily chemical market. Dominating this sector meant unimaginable annual revenues.
And this brochure?
It was the final straw for the international competitors.
With the X-Serum’s precedent, no one doubted the authenticity of these claims.
Now, there was only one thought on everyone’s mind—kneel.
Kneel and submit!
Who would turn down profit?
"Making money isn’t shameful!"
Those without decision-making power abandoned decorum, whipping out phones to call superiors.
Meanwhile, online discussions erupted among livestream viewers.
Cao Cheng motioned Xu Qing over, whispered a few words, then left the stage.
Most were too absorbed in the brochures or calls to notice his exit.
Today’s objective was accomplished.
Did anyone think Young Master Cao was just here to show off?
That was incidental.
The real goal? Unifying the global daily chemical industry.
No need to fret over international backlash—there wouldn’t be any.
After all, this didn’t threaten the so-called "national security" of certain powers.
The worst they could do? Hike tariffs.
A trivial matter—either circumvent them or pass the cost to consumers.
With the X-Serum paving the way, Miracle Media had already cracked open global markets.
Once consumers tasted something better, there was no going back.
They voted with their wallets.
And besides...
Some products could be outsourced to domestic firms, letting them slash costs before exporting for foreign exchange.
Even at multiples of the original price, they’d still outshine competitors in quality and affordability.
This was Cao Cheng’s confidence.
But this was only step one.
The word "Miracle" had to be etched into global consciousness. When future breakthroughs emerged, the world would instinctively trust them as top-tier.
This was Young Master Cao’s vision.
Time was short—just a few years left.
Then, it’d be time to board the nation’s westward-bound express train.
...
...
The livestream ended.
Hosts wrapped up, framing the event as a teaser for upcoming Miracle Daily Chemical products.
Of course.
That was just the pretext.
They needed it—they couldn’t admit the real goal was harvesting fans’ emotional engagement.
That’d be shameless.
And the audience bought it, clamoring for releases, claiming their shampoo was running low anyway.
...
Though streams shut down, local fans lingered, snapping photos.
The expressions and departure times of international guests hinted at negotiation outcomes.
Most left smiling; a handful stormed off grim-faced.
"Young Master Cao’s here~~"
Finally, Cao Cheng and Xu Qing exited the hotel.
Reporters and fans swarmed.
"Still here so late?" Cao Cheng seemed amused, checking his watch. "Almost 11 PM—aren’t you cold?"
"Freezing!" a girl shouted. "Hubby, hug me!"
Laughter erupted.
Cao Cheng side-eyed her—hard pass.
(Not ugly, just... average.)
With a chuckle, he told Xu Qing, "Get some hot drinks from the hotel for everyone. Brave the cold for this? They deserve it."
Small gestures won hearts.
The crowd’s admiration skyrocketed.
"Folks, I know you have questions, but it’s late and chilly. Let’s keep it brief, then head home, alright?"
A reporter jumped in:
"Mr. Cao, how soon will daily products like shampoo or toothpaste hit shelves? Will pricing be tiered like cosmetics?"
"Affordable for all. As for timing, ask our partners—but it’ll be fast. Everyone’s racing for market share."
Nods all around. Made sense.
More partners meant fiercer competition to launch first and reap profits.
"Mr. Cao, how did negotiations with international firms go today?"
"Pretty well. Most knelt. Very... sincere."
"......"
Silence.
No one expected such bluntness.
Was this appropriate?
"Think I phrased it poorly?" Cao Cheng grinned. "In business, it’s kill or be killed. If I weren’t steps ahead, I’d be the one kneeling."
"And kneeling’s the gentler outcome. Bankruptcy? Ruin? That’s the real nightmare."
The crowd suddenly understood.
As the old saying goes: business is like war.
And in war, there’s no room for mercy.
Everyone could grasp that.
But in truth, these people didn’t really know much.
Perhaps only Cao Cheng, with his century of experience and the faint traces of his dreams, could truly comprehend how some commercial battles were even more perilous than actual warfare.
Take the soybean wars from a few years back, for example.
They lost.
And nearly lost the nation’s food security in the process.
Recently, there’s been an ongoing rare earths war—but could ordinary people even sense it?
Not a bit.
Even Cao Cheng himself barely felt it.
Yet the stakes involved the fate of the entire nation.
That wasn’t an exaggeration.
This time, they won.
Victory meant securing the ultimate means of countermeasure for the future, as well as achieving self-sufficiency in military-industrial capabilities.
It was terrifying to imagine what would’ve happened if they’d lost.
If they had,
the country wouldn’t even have been able to fight a major war in the future.
Because the other side wouldn’t sell you the necessary materials… How could you fight without high-precision artillery shells?
Take Cao Cheng’s battle, starting from the X-fluid—if he’d lost, he would’ve been utterly annihilated.
Business.
There’s no mercy here.
Letting you live as a dog is already an act of kindness.
But.
Would they really be left alive?
Wishful thinking.
Cao Cheng would never give his enemies a single chance.
Keeping them around as dogs now was just to make it easier to strike later.
It was also about dominating the global market more thoroughly.
In a few years, once Cao Cheng could truly act without restraint, he wouldn’t leave any room for others—no schemes or tricks needed, just sheer technological superiority to crush them outright.
Either I kill you, or you kill yourself!
There’s no third option.
......
After casually answering a few questions,
Xu Qing had the hotel staff bring warm milk to the people outside.
Then, escorted by bodyguards, he got into his car, waved, and drove off.
Tonight’s livestream had drawn significant attention.
Right now, only Cao Cheng was actively building his public image—his legion of devoted fans was his foundation, capable of pushing any topic to trending status in minutes.
The moment the word "kneel" was uttered, it sparked widespread scrutiny and backlash.
Many of these "kneelers" couldn’t stand the word—mentioning it was like stepping on their tails, making them screech and lash out at anyone in sight.
But with international competitors already on their knees, these critics had no solid ground for their outrage. Instead, they attacked Cao Cheng for being "rude," claiming he was unfit to represent a nation of etiquette—how could he force others to kneel and call them dogs?
They’d already admitted defeat and surrendered—couldn’t they just cooperate peacefully?
This was too bullying.
Too uncivilized.
Unworthy of a great nation…
Such comments were everywhere.
Negative sentiment was even more rampant, practically exploding.
......
Especially since Cao Cheng kept fanning the flames.
Occasionally replying with lines like: "Your daddy already knelt and called me ‘father’—why don’t you hurry up and call me ‘grandpa,’ eh, little grandson?"
"......"
If anyone dared curse back, their accounts were instantly banned.
The bans only made them more frustrated, fueling even more negativity.
But Cao Cheng wasn’t actually angry at these kneelers.
As someone who’d seen it all before, what was there to get worked up about?
From a future perspective, this kind of worship of foreign things was just a phase—a growing pain.
An inevitable side effect of opening up the market.
In a few years, it would naturally fade. Some would leave, some would flee, some would rebel…
With so many people, there were bound to be a few embarrassments—it was understandable.
As long as they kept supplying him with negative energy, Cao Cheng couldn’t be bothered to deal with them.

pression Bureau] Transported to a fantasy world overrun by demons and monsters, Gu Qingfeng becomes a jailer in the Demon Suppression Prison of the Great Yan Dynasty's Demon Suppression Bureau. From this point on, bizarre cases frequently occur in the Demon Suppression Prison, once known as hell on earth and infamous for its gloomy, terrifying atmosphere! Why do the demons and monsters in the prison wail miserably every night? Why has the corpse demon, capable of transforming into various beauties, donned black stockings and switched careers to become a foot massage therapist? Why has the eye demon, expert in soul-snatching and illusions, turned into a VR headset? Why is the fox spirit performing otaku dances? Are all these occurrences a twisted expression of demonic nature, or a descent into moral depravity? After peeling away layer upon layer of mystery, all clues ultimately point to a jailer named Gu Qingfeng. Gu Qingfeng: "Hehehe... My dear demons and monsters, whose card shall we flip today?"

transmigrates into the world as the sect master of the Heavenly Yan Sect, which is on the verge of being wiped out. He binds a system that grants him cultivation power based on the number of disciples he has: for each disciple, he automatically gains a year's worth of cultivation every single day! Take one disciple: every day he gains 1 year of cultivation power. While others struggle through a year of bitter training, he gets the same just by sleeping through a single night. Take ten disciples: every day he gains 10 years of cultivation power. Foundation Establishment, Core Formation, Nascent Soul—he breezes through all bottlenecks without lifting a finger. Take one hundred disciples: every day he gains 100 years of cultivation power. Even a Soul Transformation Venerable before him can’t survive a single blow. Take ten thousand disciples: every day he gains 10,000 years of cultivation power! With a wave of his hand, he topples empires. With a single step, he crushes the sacred grounds of the universe. ... While others fight tooth and nail for secret techniques, Lin Yan casually hands out Nascent Soul-level cultivation manuals as beginner textbooks. While others strain to find talented recruits, Lin Yan opens his doors to anyone—so long as they’re human. In just three short years, the Heavenly Yan Sect went from a backwater sect made up of three crumbling huts to a sacred land that every cultivator under heaven would kill to enter. ... One day, otherworldly demon gods invade, with a million demon soldiers pressing down upon the realm. Lin Yan, yawning, rises from his lounge chair and glances at the system panel: [Current Disciples: 1.28 million] [Daily Cultivation Increase: 1.28 million years] He waves his hand casually, and the countless demon soldiers are reduced to ashes in an instant. “So noisy… interrupting my fishing.”

e bizarre and supernatural had descended. The previous emperor was a thoroughgoing tyrant; no longer satisfied with human women, he had set his sights on a stunningly beautiful supernatural entity. He met his end in his bedchamber, drained of all his vital essence. As the legitimate eldest son and crown prince, Wang Hao was thus hastily enthroned, becoming the young emperor of the Great Zhou Dynasty. No sooner had he awakened the "Imperial Sign-In Intelligence System" than he was assassinated by a Son of Destiny—a classic villain's opening. The Great Zhou, ravaged by the former emperor's excesses, was in national decline. The great families within its borders harbored their own treacherous schemes, martial sects began to defy the imperial court's decrees, and border armies, their pay and provisions in arrears, grumbled incessantly against the central government. Fortunately, the central capital was still held secure by the half-million Imperial Guards and fifty thousand Imperial Forest Army who obeyed the court's orders, along with the royal family's hidden reserves of power, barely managing to suppress the realm. As the Great Zhou's finances worsened and supernatural activities grew ever more frequent, the court sat atop a volcano. Ambitious plotters everywhere dreamed of overthrowing the dynasty, and even some reclusive ancient powers emerged, attempting to sway the tides of the world. At the first grand court assembly, the civil and military officials nearly came to blows, fighting tooth and nail over the allocation of fifty million taels of silver from the summer tax revenues. The spectacle opened Wang Hao's eyes—the Great Zhou's bureaucracy was not only corrupt but also martially proficient, a cabinet of all-rounders. Some officials even had the audacity to suggest the emperor release funds from the imperial privy purse to address the emergency. Wang Hao suddenly felt weary. Let it all burn.

ine. During your journey, you save an abandoned baby girl and become her elder brother】 【You rely on each other, becoming each other's support】 【At the end of the simulation, you shield the now-grown girl with your life, sacrificing yourself to block numerous demonic cultivators. You die, and the light in the girl's eyes fades】 …… 【Second Simulation: You are transported to a world where steam and magic coexist】 【You immerse yourself in the study of magic, obsessed with its research. One day, while out, you encounter a half-blooded demon girl wandering the streets. You take her in as your student】 【You teach the demoness what it means to be human, show her the beauty of the world, and nurture her into a miracle that surpasses even the gods】 【At the end of the simulation, you die of old age in front of the nearly immortal demoness due to your mortal lifespan】 …… One simulation after another, one encounter after another. Xu Xi suddenly felt something was off: "Wait, you said you're coming to the real world to find me?"