Zhou Yi and Kong Xiaohe went upstairs together to their private room, numbered 888.
The door to the room was open, and inside sat five people.
Kong Huaijin stood beside a bespectled middle-aged man.
From the information Zhou Yi had previously searched online, he recognized him as Kong Xiaohe’s father—Kong Weizheng, the wealthiest man in Huaihai.
He appeared refined and scholarly, more like a professor than a businessman.
Aside from the Kong father and daughter, two other men sat across from them.
One had a white beard, a lean frame, and piercingly bright eyes.
The other was slightly plump, with a ruddy complexion and slicked-back hair—the very image of a wealthy entrepreneur.
When Zhou Yi and Kong Xiaohe entered, the men didn’t rise to greet them, as the younger generation shouldn’t expect their elders to stand in welcome.
Besides, Zhou Yi was still a nobody at this point, hardly someone these tycoons would bother making a fuss over.
The men simply smiled at him.
Kong Xiaohe didn’t take a seat immediately after entering. Instead, he first approached Kong Weizheng.
"Yi-ge, this is my dad."
"Hello, Uncle Kong. My name is Zhou Yi."
Zhou Yi offered a composed smile, neither overly humble nor arrogant—just the right balance of confidence and respect.
Kong Weizheng stood up then, clasping Zhou Yi’s hand warmly.
"Xiao Zhou, I really must thank you. My Xiaohe’s health has been poor for years, and no treatment worked until you came along. Who knows how much longer this old man would’ve worried if not for you."
"You’re too kind, Uncle. Xiaohe is my friend, and I’m just glad I could help. No need for thanks—that would make things too formal."
Kong Weizheng’s smile deepened. This young man knew how to speak well.
He patted Zhou Yi’s shoulder and gestured for him to sit.
"Let me introduce today’s guests. This is your Uncle Dong."
Zhou Yi stood and greeted him politely. "Hello, Uncle Dong."
"Your Uncle Dong and I go way back. He runs a logistics company and dabbles in other small investments. If you ever come across a promising project in the future, you’ll have to bring us along."
"It should be you gentlemen guiding a junior like me. The honor would be mine to collaborate with you."
Wang Dong chuckled. "Such modesty! I heard you started your own company while still in university? Impressive. Back in my college days, I was too busy chasing girls to know anything about business."
Kong Weizheng laughed and added, "Xiao Zhou reminds me of Old Zhang here. The white-bearded gentleman is your Uncle Zhang. He owns a pharmaceutical company and was so amazed by how you cured Xiaohe that he insisted on meeting you."
Zhang Ming had an almost sage-like demeanor, hardly fitting the image of a businessman.
He studied Zhou Yi and asked calmly, "Xiao Zhou, have you studied medicine?"
Zhou Yi had no choice but to improvise. "Yes, Uncle Zhang."
"Which school of thought do you follow?"
"I’m not sure. My master was just an ordinary traditional doctor. He never mentioned such things."
"Would you share his name? Is he still with us?"
"His name was Feng Yi. He’s passed away."
Zhang Ming frowned slightly and sighed. "What a shame. To have taught a disciple like you, he must have been a remarkable master."
Zhou Yi had simply made up the name—no one could verify it anyway.
Then, Zhang Ming abruptly shifted the topic. "I heard you’re looking for investors for a film?"
Zhou Yi nodded. At that moment, Kong Xiaohe excused himself to fetch the script from Jiang Ruolan.
"The budget is twenty million, and we still need another ten," Zhou Yi explained.
Zhang Ming didn’t respond directly. Instead, he brought up another matter.
"Xiao Zhou, I have an old friend whose father suffers from a chronic illness. Countless doctors have tried and failed to treat it. I think you might be able to help. Would you have the time?"
This was a request—a favor.
Zhou Yi understood the implication: if he succeeded, Zhang Ming would invest the ten million.
Everyone at the table was sharp enough to read between the lines.
With his special abilities, Zhou Yi had no reason to refuse. "Of course. Just let me know when, Uncle Zhang."
Zhang Ming’s smile widened. "Excellent! You young people are so decisive. We’ll have a proper drink later."
The atmosphere remained warm. Kong Xiaohe returned with the script and placed it on the table.
After reviewing it, Kong Weizheng seemed genuinely moved and decided to invest five million.
It wasn’t that he couldn’t afford the full ten, but he wanted to leave room for the other two to participate.
Wang Dong admitted he had no interest in films, so he deferred to Zhang Ming.
If Zhang Ming declined, he’d reconsider.
The conversation was smooth, with no awkwardness—everyone maintained face.
Drinking was inevitable at such gatherings.
Zhou Yi held his liquor well and matched the older men drink for drink.
To his surprise, Kong Huaijin also had an impressive tolerance.
She had remained silent during the earlier discussions, simply listening.
But when the drinking started, she joined in—almost as if she were subtly shielding Zhou Yi from overindulging.
By the end, they were all pleasantly buzzed but still coherent.
Zhou Yi exchanged WeChat contacts with everyone. Before leaving, he had Jiang Ruolan present the two tycoons’ assistants with ginseng—no ordinary herb, but one enhanced by his system, guaranteed to benefit their health.
For the Kong family, the gifts were ginseng and fine liquor—a distinction reflecting their closer relationship, since Kong Weizheng had arranged this meeting.
Kong Xiaohe’s sister received a Van Cleef & Arpels necklace worth around seventy thousand, carefully chosen by Jiang Ruolan—neither too cheap to seem stingy nor too extravagant to raise suspicions.
By the end of the dinner, Zhou Yi had achieved his goals.
Kong Weizheng’s impression of him was favorable. On their way home, he remarked to his children,
"Zhou Yi is someone worth keeping close. Mark my words—he’s no ordinary young man. He’ll soar high one day."
Kong Huaijin, having observed Zhou Yi all evening, agreed. For someone under twenty, his composure in front of seasoned businessmen was remarkable.
He wasn’t overly slick, just poised enough—youthful humility with a touch of inexperience, which only made him more likable.
A few minor missteps didn’t matter.
In her eyes, Zhou Yi was far better than Su Ning’s brother, whose arrogance paled in comparison to this young man’s quiet confidence.
At this age, the worst things one can be are arrogant and impatient. She had seen plenty of second-generation kids who, after achieving a little success thanks to their family backgrounds, would lose all sense of themselves at the dinner table.
Such people always climb high only to fall harder in the end, and their accomplishments will never surpass those of their parents.
After a moment of contemplation, she said, "I was wondering about Zhou Yi’s background. Judging by his demeanor, he doesn’t seem like someone raised in an ordinary family. To start a company in college and invest ten million in a film studio—his family must have substantial resources."
Kong Xiaohe suddenly laughed. "Sis, why the sudden curiosity? Don’t tell me you’ve taken a liking to him?"
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