Four Traits of Lord Cao: Simplicity, Kindness, Innocence, and Plainness

This livestream showcasing Young Master Cao's flashy side gave fans a glimpse of his other persona.

The fangirls were thrilled.

That night, Young Master Cao perfectly embodied the domineering CEO they idolized.

Even two days after the livestream ended, the fangirls still hadn't snapped out of the magnetic aura of their domineering CEO.

Every day was just swoon overload.

Across major video platforms, fan forums, and social media, edited clips of the livestream circulated, complete with background music.

No matter how many times they rewatched the moment Young Master Cao walked in and saw everyone's reactions, that inexplicable rush of satisfaction never faded.

The emotional hype kept skyrocketing.

This livestream was an absolute win.

Though it also attracted a massive wave of haters—their numbers had multiplied over the past two days.

But haters are still fans.

And fans mean emotional engagement.

A win either way!

The haters claimed Young Master Cao's livestream was cringe, with zero substance.

Young Master Cao scoffed. Come back in a decade—two CEOs livestreaming their petty squabbles will be the norm. Y'all just lack vision.

Meanwhile, international competitors were busy striking deals.

That night, the livestream lasted less than an hour, but the negotiations ran from 9 PM until 11 PM.

By then, most collaborations had been finalized with signed agreements.

The terms were straightforward: Young Master Cao would contribute his technology in exchange for equity, becoming a major shareholder in these conglomerates.

Deals like these were usually hard to pull off.

But the X Serum was just too damn OP.

With widespread consumer acceptance, international competitors had no choice.

This wasn’t something they could boycott or ignore.

If others had it and they didn’t, their market share would keep eroding.

Big corporations might survive by abandoning cosmetics to protect other business lines.

But this time…

Young Master Cao dropped four new elemental formulas, poised to disrupt the entire daily chemicals industry.

Many Japanese and Korean conglomerates were backed into a corner.

Cooperate or fight.

Cooperation meant surrendering equity, diluting every shareholder’s stake.

As for fighting…

They’d tried before. They couldn’t win. Not a chance—unless they outright banned all Eastern District enterprises.

But was that feasible?

Absolutely not.

Even protective tariffs would only slow the Eastern District’s market dominance, not stop it.

So,

The competitors had almost no options left but to bow their heads.

Three days post-livestream,

Boardrooms across the globe were in chaos, debates raging.

This affected everyone’s bottom line.

Not every conglomerate’s core business was cosmetics—some specialized in perfumes or luxury bags, with daily chemicals as just a side venture.

Still, losing that segment would hurt.

Ultimately, the real friction came from the fact that these formulas and elements originated from Eastern District’s Miracle Cosmetics.

Pure bias.

If Young Master Cao were, say, from the Fujiwara clan, none of this would’ve been an issue.

In the end,

About 60% of competitors signed the tech-for-equity deals, sending delegations to the Eastern District.

The remaining 40% banded together, bracing for the storm.

They restructured, spinning off their daily chemicals divisions to pivot elsewhere.

Then Paul from L'Oréal approached them with a "workaround" proposal.

L'Oréal would acquire their daily chemicals businesses.

Since L'Oréal had already partnered with Miracle Cosmetics, the acquired companies could legally use the new formulas and X Serum.

A lifeline.

Better to sell low to L'Oréal now than lose everything to Miracle’s market dominance later.

This industry-wide acquisition spree lasted two months.

Dubbed the "2012 Great Reshuffle."

Amid the reshuffle,

Young Master Cao remained unfazed.

He was busy prepping for the Lunar New Year.

He made appearances at year-end company meetings, handing out red envelopes to top performers.

Then he spent three days in the capital visiting his fiancée Tang Xin and her father.

The old man actually spared half a day for a home-cooked meal and drinks, even discussing wedding plans.

The date was set for December—the so-called "doomsday."

"This New Year, come home with me?" Young Master Cao invited.

With the wedding settled, their future was sealed.

Tang Xin, ever indulgent with him, knew the importance of reciprocating his gestures. As the future lady of the house, she’d give full support.

"Wouldn’t it be improper for me to visit before we’re married?" Tang Xin demurred.

"Fair point. Stay in the capital then. I’m off."

"Get back here."

She glared.

Young Master Cao laughed, pulling her close. "Alright, little wife. But before we return to Zhonghai, we’re stopping by Sanjiang."

"Your hometown?"

"Mm. To visit the old house, the neighbors… and my mother’s grave. Pay my respects."

It wasn’t grave-sweeping season.

But with the wedding date set, it felt right to inform her.

A ritual.

"Okay." Tang Xin didn’t refuse this time, touched by his sincerity.

After two days in the capital, they bid farewell to her sister and drove to Sanjiang.

Her father was absent—year-end duties had him touring the provinces.

Meanwhile, in Zhonghai—

Thud! Thud! Thud!

Second Sister Ren Fanxing, clad in workout gear, was drenched in sweat.

Her damp hair clung to her temples, but it did nothing to dull her striking presence.

Her legs alone—each kick sent the sandbag shuddering. Most men wouldn’t survive one of her roundhouse kicks.

Thanks to Young Master Cao’s "mystery supplements," her physique had leveled up, her strength now a full tier higher.

The sandbag’s seams were fraying, on the verge of bursting.

"Hah!"

With a final shout—

Riiip!

The sandbag gave way, its filling spilling out.

Clap! Clap! Clap!

Applause sounded behind her.

Ren Fanxing turned.

Eldest Sister stood at the door, watching.

"Huff…"

She exhaled sharply.

Second Sister: "How long have you been there?"

"Just arrived."

Eldest Sister smiled. "Skipping drinks, skipping rest, training like this after dinner… Bad day at work?"

"Mm." Second Sister grabbed a towel, wiping her face.

She then picked up a towel to wipe the sweat off her face, using it to obscure her expression.

Her bad mood had nothing to do with work.

But the real reason? She couldn’t say it, nor did she have anyone to confide in.

How could she admit it was because Cao Cheng and Tang Xin had gone to the capital together?

She had no right to feel jealous—after all, her own position wasn’t exactly legitimate.

Even though she’d mentally prepared herself,

facing the reality still stung.

"I thought you were in a bad mood because Lao Wu wasn’t home," the eldest sister remarked casually, stepping closer while glancing around. But her peripheral gaze was fixed on the second sister.

"..."

Ren Fanxing’s heart skipped a beat. Instinctively, she lowered the towel and looked at her eldest sister.

The eldest sister tilted her head, meeting her gaze with a faint smile. "Why are you looking at me like that? Did I say something wrong?"

Ren Fanxing recalled what Young Master Cao had told her a few days ago.

Sure enough.

The eldest sister had come probing.

Since she was terrible at acting, Ren Fanxing decided not to bother pretending.

She shook her head. "With Lao Wu gone, the house is finally peaceful. Why would I be in a bad mood?"

Her stubborn tone made it painfully obvious she wasn’t being honest.

And the eldest sister was far from naive.

Her sharp eyes betrayed her shrewdness—there was no innocence in that gaze.

Unlike Young Master Cao.

His eyes held the clarity of a college student—pure, kind, naive, and unpretentious!

"Oh?"

The eldest sister shrugged noncommittally. "But Fanxing, you know what? You’re a terrible liar. Whenever you lie, your eyes dart away. You lose that usual steadiness."

"Remember when you broke that antique vase as a kid?"

"Mom was in a foul mood that day, so you blamed it on Lao Si instead."

"That was your first time lying."

"Mom probably knew but didn’t call you out on it."

"I knew too, but I let it slide."

"And Lao Si didn’t dare argue—just took the blame."

"..."

Ren Fanxing had long forgotten that incident.

If the eldest sister hadn’t brought it up, that memory would’ve stayed buried in elementary school.

The eldest sister took the towel from her hands and gently wiped the sweat from her face, her voice soft and low.

"You have feelings for Lao Wu, don’t you?"

"..."

Ren Fanxing retorted, "You’re thinking of Lao San."

The eldest sister shook her head with a chuckle. "You two are different. Lao San dotes on Lao Wu like a little brother—she’s practically spoiling him. She’s always wanted a younger sibling. Remember how envious she’d get seeing other families with older sisters playing with their little brothers?"

"But you..."

She sighed. "It’s not the same."

"If I had any doubts before, they’re gone now. Ever since Lao Wu left, you’ve been distracted. Every day, you either sit on the couch watching TV and drinking tea or come here to punch the bag."

"Since when do you like tea?"

"When you’re happy, shouldn’t you be drinking instead?"

"Even your habits have changed. Lao San noticed something was off, but she didn’t dare ask. She thought it was work-related."

"If it were work, you wouldn’t be clocking in and out so punctually every day."

Was it really that obvious?

Ren Fanxing sighed inwardly.

Back when Young Master Cao had told her she was a terrible actress, she’d been a little indignant.