Thus, the atmosphere in the penthouse suite of the Royal Grand Hotel underwent a sudden transformation.
The once-formidable business queen had become an eager apprentice.
Her latest subject of study was flower arrangement.
Lu Chenyuan had arranged for the finest instructional materials and the freshest flowers to be delivered.
Mo Qingli pored over the books as if scrutinizing a critical project contract.
She absorbed theories about negative space, artistic conception, and the trinity of heaven, earth, and humanity with utmost seriousness.
Then, she began her first attempt.
The initial result was somewhat disastrous.
The elegant sword lilies, meant to exude refinement, ended up looking like a row of fence posts under her hands.
Lu Chenyuan stood nearby, barely suppressing his amusement.
"Qingli, the art of flower arrangement emphasizes 'effortlessness,'" he said, stepping forward and picking up a lily.
"Sometimes, the harder you try to control it, the more you lose its inherent beauty."
He didn’t directly fix her work.
Instead, he casually placed the lily in what seemed like an unplanned corner.
Instantly, the entire vase arrangement came to life.
Mo Qingli watched his movements, deep in thought.
She stood there for a long moment before removing all the flowers and starting anew.
Her learning ability was astonishing.
The next day, when Lu Chenyuan emerged from his study, he found a new arrangement on the living room coffee table.
A few lotus stems, several leaves—sparse yet evocative, like a breathing ink painting.
Mo Qingli stood nearby, carefully trimming the edge of a leaf with a small pair of scissors.
Sunlight spilled across her profile, casting a soft glow around her.
At that moment, Lu Chenyuan suddenly felt that this gilded cage had truly become their own utopia.
...
While Mo Qingli immersed herself in the aesthetics of daily life, Lu Chenyuan’s plans were quietly advancing.
The influence of the "Lighthouse" Foundation grew stronger within the Chinese diaspora community.
But it wasn’t enough.
His goal wasn’t just to create an isolated haven for the Chinese community.
He wanted them to truly integrate into this land—even shape it.
He needed a new leverage point, one that could facilitate direct dialogue with J Country’s mainstream society.
That day, through encrypted channels, he met with several influential Chinese entrepreneurs in J Country.
The location, as always, was Lu Jinlin’s "Serenity Teahouse."
These individuals were leaders in their respective industries, yet they had all maintained a low profile by unspoken agreement.
Lu Chenyuan didn’t mention Mo Qingli’s legal case at all.
Instead, he analyzed J Country’s future economic trajectory for them.
"J Country is resource-scarce. Its economic lifeline depends heavily on external factors."
"What A Country provides are orders—but also shackles."
"If A Country’s own economy falters, J Country will inevitably be dragged down."
"J Country needs a new growth engine, one it can control."
The entrepreneurs, all shrewd, immediately grasped his implication.
Entrepreneur Wu, who worked in agricultural trade, sighed.
"Mr. Lu, you’re absolutely right. But what can we do? J Country’s core tech sectors are dominated by European conglomerates. We can’t break in."
"Then we carve out a niche they’ve overlooked," Lu Chenyuan said, tapping the table lightly.
"Environmental technology, modern agriculture—for example."
He looked at Entrepreneur Wu.
"Mr. Wu, I’ve heard that industrial pollution has left much of J Country’s farmland with excessive heavy metal content. Their agricultural products are losing competitiveness internationally."
Entrepreneur Wu nodded, his expression grave.
"Exactly. It’s a fatal flaw in J Country’s agriculture."
"What if," Lu Chenyuan’s gaze swept across the room,
"there were a lab led by J Country’s top scientists, dedicated to soil remediation and soilless cultivation?"
"We’ll provide the funding."
"Through that offshore trust fund we registered in L Country."
"We won’t take equity or patents. The research will be shared freely with all J Country’s agricultural firms."
"Our only condition is that this lab genuinely benefits J Country’s land."
Silence filled the room.
Everyone was stunned by Lu Chenyuan’s seemingly selfless proposal.
They couldn’t fathom why this tech titan from China would invest heavily in something with no apparent return.
Lu Jinlin lifted his teacup and took a sip.
His eyes gleamed with approval as he studied Lu Chenyuan.
He alone immediately understood the strategy.
This move was about winning hearts—the hearts of J Country’s ordinary citizens.
While "Lighthouse" shielded the Chinese diaspora with legal protection,
this new venture would infuse J Country’s future with a revitalizing force.
Law and technology.
One visible, one unseen.
One internal, one external.
Step by step, Lu Chenyuan was reshaping the ecosystem of this land.
"I agree," Lu Jinlin said, setting down his cup and breaking the silence.
"I’ll take the lead in liaising with J Country’s Academy of Sciences."
With his endorsement, the other entrepreneurs nodded in turn.
They might not fully grasp Lu Chenyuan’s grand design,
but they trusted Lu Jinlin’s judgment.
And they believed in the young man’s vision—one that transcended personal gain.
...
A month later,
J Country’s mainstream media reported the establishment of a biotech lab called "Living Water" in the suburbs of Gedo.
The lab’s founders were several eminent academicians from J Country’s Academy of Sciences.
The funding came from an obscure overseas trust—
one with suspected ties to China.
In the press release, the lab’s director proudly announced:
"Living Water" will tackle J Country’s most pressing soil pollution issues. All research will be freely shared with society.
The news sparked widespread acclaim.
Citizens praised it as "goodwill from the East."
Environmental groups hailed the foundation as "the year’s most admirable investor."
No one connected it to the Chinese man under house arrest at the Royal Grand Hotel.
But J Country’s elite knew.
Ambassador Li Wenbo paid another visit.
This time, his expression was noticeably lighter.
"Mr. Lu, masterful maneuvering," he said bluntly as he sat down.
"I merely did what I could," Lu Chenyuan replied calmly, pouring tea.
"Two days ago, J Country’s prosecutors rejected the motion by A Country’s legal team to expedite Mrs. Lu’s case," Li Wenbo said meaningfully.
"Their stated reason: insufficient evidence, requiring further investigation."
The message was unmistakable.
J Country’s judicial scales had begun to tilt—quietly but surely.
Lu Chenyuan nodded, his composure unshaken.
Everything was under control.
After seeing off Ambassador Li Wenbo, Lu Chenyuan returned to the living room and found Mo Qingli sitting on the carpet.
Spread out before her was a thick book on classical garden art from Country J, alongside several sheets of paper covered in rough sketches.
She was so absorbed in her reading that she didn’t even notice him approaching.
“What are you studying?” Lu Chenyuan sat down beside her.
“I was thinking about how I could design the terrace for our hotel,” Mo Qingli explained enthusiastically, pointing to the lines on her sketches.
“Here, we could create a dry landscape garden.”
“Over there, we could place a stone lantern.”
“Oh, and we’d need a ‘shishi-odoshi’—you know, that bamboo tube that fills with water and tips over to make a soft knocking sound…”
She looked like a child who had just discovered her favorite toy, her eyes sparkling with creative excitement.
Lu Chenyuan listened quietly.
Watching her radiant expression, his heart swelled with an overwhelming tenderness.
Suddenly, winning or losing didn’t seem to matter anymore.
Seeing her smile like this was worth more than anything else in the world.
He reached out and pulled her into his arms.
“Alright,” he said softly.
“When we go home, we’ll buy a mountain for you to design.”
“The entire mountain will be yours—your new battlefield.”

. As long as he maintains the villain image and follows the plot to the grand finale, he can obtain generous rewards and return to the real world. So Gu Chen'an entered the role and began to act as a scumbag villain, but who would have expected that the female leads could hear his inner thoughts. Miss Su from the Su family was shocked: "I originally thought Gu Chen'an was a scumbag, but I didn't expect he turned out to be a gentleman! What? You said I have to call off the engagement? I definitely won't, I'll piss you off!" Bai Yuan Tian was dumbfounded: "Young Master Gu is usually unreasonable and a complete brat, but he actually calls me little sweetie in his heart? What, Young Master Gu even said he likes me?" As the female leads' images collapsed more and more, the plot also collapsed with it. Gu Chen'an looked at all this chaos. "Ladies, don't aggro me, if you keep this up the male lead really will stab me, I still need to survive to the grand finale!"

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.”

rowess are unmatched, commanding a million-strong army! Yet, the Emperor wants to depose him for the sake of a false prince? Hold on, are you throwing me into some female-oriented romance plot? How can I tolerate this? With a grand wave of his hand—the Nine Clan Extraction Technique! Slander the Emperor? Very well, all of you shall die! ... The False Prince: "Although I am not the biological son, Father and Mother love me more. The throne should be mine!" The Female Lead: "Qin Xiao, you are the Emperor, and I am a commoner. If you wish to marry me, you must abdicate. Otherwise, you will never have me!" The Empress: "After we divorce, you must give me half the empire!" The Transmigrator Consort: "You worthless Emperor, why should I kneel to you? All men are equal—I advise you to be kind!" The Great General: "The enemy general is my childhood sweetheart. For her sake, I willingly abandon the frontier defenses!" The Retired Emperor: "Although Yu'er was adopted, I prefer him. Qin Xiao, you should abdicate and let him become Emperor!" ... Very well! So this is how you want to play? Facing this twisted world of female-oriented tropes, Qin Xiao grins and raises his hand to unleash—the Nine Clan Extraction Technique! I am the Emperor. Why would I bother reasoning with you? Seal the gates! Leave none alive!

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.