Chapter 3: The Plea of the Wealthiest

In the top-floor banquet hall of Tianhuang Pavilion, the clamor gradually subsided after Zhao Tianlong was ejected, leaving only the waitstaff bustling to clear the debris. Lin Feng sat alone at the head of the table, the inky blackness of Jiangcheng's night pressing against the windows, its scattered lights casting a faint glow across his chiseled profile. He lit a cigarette, the smoke curling lazily around him, and a glint of cold light flickered in his deep, piercing eyes. Zhao Tianlong's humiliation brought him a fleeting sense of satisfaction, but it was far from enough—his goal was to make every enemy pay in full.

The hall stood empty now, its grandeur muted. The manager lingered nearby, bowing slightly as he whispered, "Mr. Lin, do you have any further instructions?" Lin Feng exhaled a puff of smoke, his tone casual yet commanding, "Bring me a bottle of red wine—any kind will do." The manager nodded eagerly, scurrying off to fulfill the request without a hint of hesitation. The power of that Supreme Black Card had already spread like wildfire throughout Tianhuang Pavilion, instilling awe and fear in its staff.

The wine arrived swiftly, and Lin Feng poured himself a glass, swirling it gently as his mind replayed the earlier banquet chaos. Zhao Tianlong's fury and Liu Wan'er's shock had unfolded exactly as he'd anticipated. Three years ago, when the Lin family crumbled, the Zhao family had swooped in like vultures, seizing every opportunity to plunder their wealth. Now, with his return to Jiangcheng, his first move was to make Zhao Tianlong taste the sting of humiliation—but this was merely the opening gambit. He aimed for nothing less than the complete submission of the entire city.

Just then, the banquet hall's grand doors were flung open with a forceful crash. A middle-aged man in a tailored suit burst in, his face etched with anxiety, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead, his polished leather shoes striking the carpet with urgent, staccato steps. Lin Feng glanced up, instantly recognizing him—Li Tianhao, Jiangcheng's wealthiest tycoon. His eyes narrowed slightly, a suspicion already forming in his mind.

Upon spotting Lin Feng, Li Tianhao dropped to one knee without hesitation, his voice trembling with desperation, "Mr. Lin, my daughter is gravely ill—please, I beg you to save her! If you're willing, my entire Li family fortune is yours!" His tone was thick with pleading, the usually commanding figure of Jiangcheng's richest man reduced to a helpless father in that moment.

The waitstaff in the hall froze, stunned, but Lin Feng remained calm, stubbing out his cigarette with a steady hand. "Get up," he said coolly, his voice low but carrying an undeniable weight that pressed down on Li Tianhao. "Kneeling like that—what's the point?"

Li Tianhao rose shakily, his legs still quivering, and spoke with urgency, "Mr. Lin, my daughter, Ruoxi, fell into a coma three years ago. When she awoke, her body was ice-cold, her limbs weak and lifeless. The doctors called it a rare condition—icy toxin syndrome. She suffers frequent high fevers yet feels frozen to the touch. I've consulted top experts from the U.S. and traditional Chinese medicine masters, but no one can cure her… She's on the brink of death now. If you don't intervene, I'll have no choice but to prepare for her funeral!" His eyes reddened, tears welling up, his voice breaking with anguish.

"Icy toxin?" Lin Feng set his wine glass down, rising to his feet and stepping toward Li Tianhao, his gaze sharp as a blade. "Take me to see her," he said, his tone calm yet unyieldingly authoritative. Li Tianhao, as if granted a lifeline, nodded fervently, "This way, Mr. Lin, please!"

The group left Tianhuang Pavilion, piling into Li Tianhao's sleek black Rolls-Royce, which sped toward the suburban Li family estate. Inside the car, Li Tianhao fidgeted nervously, wiping sweat from his brow repeatedly, stealing glances at Lin Feng. Seeing him sitting with eyes closed, exuding an overwhelming aura that made breathing difficult, Li Tianhao thought silently, "This man even holds the Supreme Black Card—could he truly possess otherworldly abilities?"

Half an hour later, the convoy pulled up to the Li family estate, sprawling over hundreds of acres, its lush greenery framing a grand European-style villa glowing with lights. They entered a lavishly decorated bedroom, where Lin Feng immediately spotted the young woman lying in bed—Li Ruoxi. Barely twenty years old, her face was as pale as paper, her lips devoid of color, her breathing so faint she seemed on the verge of death. Medical equipment cluttered the bedside, but the private doctors stood helpless, murmuring in frustration.

Lin Feng approached the bed, reaching out to feel her pulse. After a few seconds, he let out a cold snort, "This isn't icy toxin—it's a curse." His voice, though quiet, exploded like thunder in the room. "A curse?!" Li Tianhao's eyes widened, his face a mask of disbelief. "Mr. Lin, are you saying someone deliberately harmed my daughter?" His voice quivered, his fists clenching, a flicker of murderous intent flashing in his eyes.

"Nonsense," Lin Feng replied dismissively, uninterested in explanations. He pulled a small wooden box from his backpack, opening it to reveal a row of silver needles. His fingers moved with blinding speed, almost too fast to follow, as he accurately pierced several acupoints on Li Ruoxi's body. The moment the needles entered, sweat beaded on her forehead, and a wisp of dark energy oozed from within her, twisting into a sinister shape before dissipating into nothingness.

Lin Feng retracted the needles, turning to Li Tianhao with a flat tone, "The curse is lifted. She'll wake in three days and recover fully with a month of rest." His words were as calm as if he'd just completed a trivial task. Li Tianhao dropped to his knees again, tears streaming down his face as he choked out, "Mr. Lin, you are our savior! From this day, the Li family pledges our allegiance to you!" His voice broke with emotion, his forehead striking the floor repeatedly in gratitude, while the doctors nearby lowered their heads, their faces filled with awe and respect.

"Get up," Lin Feng waved him off, "I'll save her, but I want you to make a public declaration tomorrow—Jiangcheng belongs to me from now on." His gaze was profound, carrying a subtle, unspoken weight. "Absolutely!" Li Tianhao nodded vigorously, rising with a respectful bow. "Mr. Lin, if you're willing to stay tonight, I'll have a guest room prepared immediately!"

Lin Feng didn't refuse, giving a slight nod. He stepped out of the bedroom, standing in the cool night breeze outside the estate, a cold glint flashing in his eyes. The technique of that curse—he recognized it immediately as the work of the Shadow Syndicate. Three years ago, the same group had orchestrated the fall of the Lin family, their hands stained with his parents' blood. Clenching his fists, he murmured to himself, "Just wait. I'll settle this, one debt at a time."

Behind him, Li Tianhao watched Lin Feng's retreating figure, his heart trembling with awe. He knew instinctively that Lin Feng's return would reshape the entire landscape of Jiangcheng.