Chapter Twenty-Eight: Please Begin Your Performance

In the heart of Ning City’s Central Business District, commonly known as the CBD, a grand skyscraper soared above its surroundings, standing out like a crane among chickens. Beneath this imposing edifice, a bold line of gilded letters gleamed resplendently in the sunlight, drawing every eye.

Ning City Forest Real Estate Co., Ltd.

Everyone living in Ning City knew of this building. Jokingly, people called it Zou Linsen’s personal kingdom.

But today, unlike any other day, this kingdom was nearly besieged by a swarm of reporters crowding layer upon layer around it.

The chairman had not shown his face for an entire day. Coupled with a rapidly escalating online headline, unease spread throughout the company like a contagion.

Not until dusk did employees spot the chairman and his son, both haggard and drawn, entering the building under heavy security. Without a word, they locked themselves in the office.

Inside the chairman’s office, smoke hung thick in the air. Zou Linsen, who had not smoked in ages, now lit one cigarette after another, his eyes bloodshot, saying nothing. Across from him, Zou Tao sat in silent desperation, their gazes locked in mutual helplessness.

After a day of frantic effort, the police had agreed—at least temporarily—not to take action. But the online news stubbornly refused to be taken down. The media had all promised to delete it, yet somehow, it remained utterly impossible to remove!

There was something uncanny, almost sinister, about the whole affair.

By now, the story had swept across the nation, growing more sensational by the hour. Public outrage was boiling over, with tens of millions of comments flooding in.

Contacts in the police force had sent word: at most, they could delay for three days. If the issue wasn’t resolved in that time, they would not be able to withstand the mounting pressure—and would be forced to come and arrest someone.

Bang!

Zou Linsen slammed his fist down on the rosewood desk, blood streaming from his hand, yet he paid it no mind. He roared, “Damn it, who the hell is behind this?! Are they really trying to destroy me?”

He had gone over every person he might have offended lately. Either their grudges weren’t deep enough, or they lacked the means. After sifting through everyone, not a single suspect emerged.

“Dad, what do we do now?” Zou Tao was equally distraught, panic etched across his face. Ever since his humiliating encounter with that damned pauper yesterday, his new girlfriend, Li Mei, had cut off all contact. Her phone rang unanswered.

But that hardly mattered now. He had no time for romantic concerns.

“How should I know?! Keep contacting the media. Keep trying. We must get that news scrubbed within three days, or our family is finished!” Zou Linsen barked, half-crazed with agitation.

“Fine, I’ll reach out again. No, I’ll go in person! I’ll visit each media outlet myself!” Zou Tao snatched up his car keys and rushed out, booking flights as he went, determined to confront them face to face.

On the other side of the city, while the Zou family was gripped with panic, Lan Tian lay contentedly on his bed, waiting for Bai to play him the so-called perfectly authentic holographic film of interstellar war.

Once the lights in his room went out, a beam of light suddenly appeared in midair. In an instant, a blood-drenched female corpse materialized before Lan Tian, eyes glaring red, blood streaming from every orifice, drifting toward him at terrifying speed.

“Holy—!” The abrupt horror sent Lan Tian shrieking, his heart skipping a beat, scalp tingling. He lost control and smashed the entire bed beneath him to pieces.

“Bai! That’s too much!” It was a while before Lan Tian crawled from the wreckage, shaking with anger.

“Hahaha! You’re so timid—I was just teasing, yet you’re scared out of your wits!” Bai laughed uproariously, projecting her image before him.

“Damn you! Who would do something so terrifying?! That ghost was too real—and so sudden! Who wouldn’t freak out?” Lan Tian was still seething, wishing he had the power to properly teach Bai’s main body a lesson.

“Haha, all right, all right. It’s almost nine-thirty—Nasdaq is about to open. Hurry and finish your training, then get ready to watch my performance,” Bai said, changing the subject with a grin.

“Hmph! I’ll remember this… Whew, that really scared me!” Lan Tian wiped the cold sweat from his brow, muttering under his breath.

As his half-hour training session neared its end, Lan Tian suddenly sensed the cold cosmic energy flooding his body drop to a mere tenth of its former strength.

Thinking something was wrong, he dared not move and shouted, “Bai! What’s happening? I didn’t do anything! Why did the energy suddenly drop? Is something wrong? I don’t want to die!”

His face was ashen. This was real life, not a virtual game. A misstep in cultivation could be fatal!

Bai scanned him and replied calmly, “Don’t panic. This is good news. You’ve completed the first stage of energy gathering. Congratulations—you can start the second movement now.”

“Oh… You nearly scared me to death. I thought something went wrong.” Lan Tian stopped his first sequence. “But I haven’t finished today’s half-hour. Should I wait until tomorrow to start the second sequence, or can I begin now?”

“It’s best to wait until tomorrow,” Bai considered. “You’ve absorbed a lot of cosmic energy—give your body time to digest it. Too much is as bad as too little. Your pace is already quite impressive.”

“So, now that I’ve finished the first stage, how strong am I? After last night’s session, my strength reached three thousand kilograms with one hand!” Lan Tian asked eagerly.

“Not much different. It’s not a major breakthrough—just a gradual increase. Now you could probably manage five thousand kilograms with one hand. A single punch would be about seven or eight tons,” Bai replied nonchalantly. In truth, she didn’t care how strong Lan Tian’s body became; strengthening the flesh was merely laying groundwork for future cultivation. Cosmic practitioners rarely resorted to physical attacks.

Lan Tian, however, didn’t care about that. Hearing how quickly his strength had risen, he was overjoyed—he was still bound by the thinking of ordinary humans. Being able to punch a car into the air sounded like a legend.

“Sigh… My only regret is that there are no worthy opponents on Earth. To be the only one with such strength—there’s no sense of accomplishment. It’s lonely, being invincible…” Lan Tian sighed with mock regret, though his eyes sparkled with unconcealed delight.

“Are you kidding? You think you’re invincible already? Can you dodge bullets? Withstand bombs?” Bai rolled her eyes.

Lan Tian was speechless.

“Didn’t I tell you? Once you learn basic combat techniques, your abilities will improve dramatically—then you might dodge bullets. But have you learned them yet? Not at all. So let’s see you dodge a shot now. A single bullet would finish you!” Bai continued to tease.

Lan Tian had no reply.

In truth, with his current strength, Lan Tian could dodge bullets—if he was fully alert and saw them coming. But if ambushed, he would still be caught off guard.

“All right, enough talk. Now it’s my turn to perform,” Bai said, tilting her head proudly.

Lan Tian immediately fell silent, anticipation in his gaze. He knew that what came next would leave the Zou family in tears.

“All right then, begin your performance—”