Chapter 2: Banquet Turmoil

The elevator doors chimed softly as they slid open, and Lin Feng stepped out with measured steps, his destination the opulent top-floor banquet hall of Tianhuang Pavilion. Today marked the Zhao family's grand banquet, an event Zhao Tianlong had loudly publicized as an opportunity to flaunt the Zhao family's dominance and prestige in Jiangcheng. Naturally, Lin Feng had no intention of missing this spectacle. With a firm push, he opened the heavy, ornate doors, revealing a breathtaking scene of luxury: golden pillars adorned with intricate carvings, crystal chandeliers casting a warm, shimmering glow across the room, and long tables brimming with exquisite delicacies. The air was thick with the rich, intoxicating aroma of fine red wine, creating an atmosphere of extravagance and excess.

Inside, the banquet hall buzzed with activity, filled with Jiangcheng's elite—business tycoons, socialites, and politicians—mingling amidst the clinking of glasses and bursts of laughter. The room was a symphony of wealth and power, but Lin Feng's entrance shattered that harmony like a single drop of water hitting a sizzling pan. A ripple of silence spread through the crowd as every eye turned toward him. His plain, faded T-shirt and worn jeans stood in stark, almost jarring contrast to the sea of tailored suits and glittering gowns, yet he moved with an unshakable composure, as if he were the rightful master of this lavish domain.

At the heart of the room stood Zhao Tianlong, arms wrapped possessively around Liu Wan'er, his voice booming with arrogance as he boasted to a circle of admirers. Clad in a custom-made designer suit, his wrist adorned with a dazzling luxury watch, he declared, "This car cost thirty million—limited edition worldwide. Anyone who sees me driving it gives me face as Zhao Ershao!" His laughter echoed, met with a chorus of flattery from sycophants eager to curry favor. "Zhao Ershao, so magnanimous and bold!" they chimed, their voices dripping with admiration.

But when Zhao Tianlong's gaze swept across the hall and landed on Lin Feng, his triumphant grin froze mid-laugh. Setting his wine glass down with a sharp clink, he strode forward, his sneer cutting through the air like a blade. "Lin Feng, you actually had the audacity to show up? Don't you realize where you are? A beggar like you has no business standing in this hall!" His voice was loud and dripping with contempt, instantly raising the tension in the room to a fever pitch, the atmosphere crackling with unspoken challenge.

Liu Wan'er, nestled against Zhao Tianlong's side, let out a mocking giggle, her tone sharp and biting. "Tianlong, don't waste your time on him—he's nothing but a joke. Three years ago, he couldn't even afford to buy me a handbag. Now, he's probably scraping by, barely able to afford a meal. With you, I'm Mrs. Zhao, basking in endless luxury and splendor!" Dressed in a low-cut evening gown that shimmered under the chandeliers, her diamond ring sparkling brilliantly, her eyes were filled with cold disdain, as if Lin Feng were beneath her notice.

Laughter erupted around them, a wave of mockery washing over the hall. Someone jeered, "Young Master Lin, need me to toss you some pocket change?" Others joined in, their taunts growing louder and more brazen, but Lin Feng remained utterly unfazed, his expression as calm as still water. With a faint, icy smile, he strode purposefully to the head of the main table, sat down with an air of absolute confidence, and casually pulled out the Supreme Black Card from his pocket. With a crisp slap, he placed it on the table, the sound echoing sharply through the stunned silence of the room. "Waiter," he said coolly, his voice steady and commanding, "I'm taking over this hall—I'm hosting my friends for dinner."

The room fell into a profound, almost oppressive silence. Zhao Tianlong's face stiffened, his earlier bravado evaporating, while Liu Wan'er's eyes widened in disbelief, nearly popping out of her head. The black card gleamed under the chandelier's light, its dark sheen like an invisible slap across the faces of everyone present. After a tense few seconds, the hotel manager rushed in, his expression one of abject deference as he bowed repeatedly. "Honored Black Card holder," he said, his voice trembling with respect, "you say reserve the hall, and it's yours! Mr. Zhao, I'm terribly sorry, but you and your party must leave immediately!"

"What did you say?!" Zhao Tianlong exploded, slamming his hand on the table so hard that a wine glass shattered on the floor, scattering shards in every direction. "My father is the chairman of Zhao Group—how dare you throw me out?" His voice thundered with rage, but the manager stood his ground, unmoved, a cold smirk playing on his lips. "Zhao Group?" he retorted dismissively. "I'm sorry, but in the presence of this gentleman, you're not even worthy of carrying his shoes!" With a swift gesture, he signaled several black-suited security guards, who moved in with precision, seizing Zhao Tianlong and dragging him toward the exit.

Zhao Tianlong struggled furiously, shouting, "Let go of me! Lin Feng, this isn't over—I'll make you pay!" Liu Wan'er screamed, lunging to pull him back, but her heel caught on her dress, causing her to stumble and fall awkwardly, her gown tearing and leaving her in a humiliated heap on the carpet. She looked up at Lin Feng, her face a mask of incredulity. "Where did you get that card?!" she demanded, her voice trembling with shock and disbelief.

Lin Feng picked up a glass of red wine from the table, swirling it gently between his fingers, too indifferent to even acknowledge her question. His gaze swept across the room, his voice calm but carrying an undeniable authority, "Anyone else want to test me?" Not a single soul dared to respond. Those who had mocked him moments ago now bowed their heads, their breaths held in fearful silence, the weight of his presence pressing down on them like a storm about to break.

The manager, still bowing, fawned, "Mr. Lin, please enjoy yourself—anything you need, it's at your command!" Lin Feng waved him off with a casual flick of his hand, taking a slow sip of the wine, his eyes deep and unreadable. Internally, he replayed the earlier confrontation—Zhao Tianlong's rage and Liu Wan'er's astonishment were precisely what he'd anticipated. Three years ago, when the Lin family fell, the Zhao family had pounced like vultures, seizing everything. Now, back in Jiangcheng, his first move was to make Zhao Tianlong taste the bitterness of humiliation. But this was only the beginning—he aimed for nothing less than the complete domination of Jiangcheng.

Outside the banquet hall, Zhao Tianlong was unceremoniously dumped onto the cold marble floor, his tailored suit now dusted with grime. Struggling to his feet, he glared at the doors, his teeth clenched in fury. "Lin Feng, I swear, the Zhao family won't let this grudge end here!" Liu Wan'er staggered after him, her voice quivering as she whispered, "Tianlong, he must be bluffing. We can't let him win!" But deep in her heart, a flicker of unease gnawed at her—Lin Feng's calm demeanor and piercing gaze were no mere act; they held the unmistakable promise of retribution.

Back inside, Lin Feng's phone vibrated softly. He answered in a low, steady tone, "Speak." A calm, resolute voice came through from the other end: "Master Feng, Zhao Group's peripheral forces have been neutralized. We're standing by for your orders." Lin Feng's eyes glinted with cold determination. "Hold off—I want them to crawl to me on their knees, begging for mercy." He hung up, leaning back in his chair, his mind drifting to that fateful night three years ago—the Lin family mansion engulfed in flames, his parents' screams echoing through the darkness. Now, he would exact his vengeance, drop by drop, until every debt was paid in full. Through the grand windows, Jiangcheng's night deepened into a sea of lights, and Lin Feng's lips curled into a faint, confident smile. This banquet was merely the opening gambit in his grand chess game of revenge.