Chapter One: The Blind Date

Lancheng.

Lin Yi straightened his clothes and entered the restaurant. The place was bustling, filled mostly with men in suits and urban beauties. He glanced around, then sat down at the table he had reserved.

He waited for about half an hour before a woman with flowing long hair approached. She wore a sheer pantyhose skirt, her features alluring and her figure stunning—curved in all the right places, radiating sensuality.

"Lin Yi? Is that you?" she exclaimed.

"Yang Mo?" Lin Yi was surprised. The beautiful woman before him was not only his high school classmate but also his desk-mate, Yang Mo.

Back in high school, Yang Mo had looked quite ordinary, nothing like the striking woman she was now.

If beauty were scored out of a hundred, Yang Mo would surely be at least an eighty-five—undoubtedly a goddess in the eyes of many men.

Yang Mo glanced him over. His outfit was clearly cheap, probably not even worth two hundred yuan in total.

She frowned. "Are you really my blind date?"

"If the table number is right, then I suppose I am," Lin Yi replied with a shrug.

She let out a soft laugh and sat down across from him. "Long time no see, Lin Yi. All these years and you haven't changed a bit."

Lin Yi smiled. "But you've become much more beautiful. I almost didn't recognize you."

"A woman must learn to grow," Yang Mo said, flipping her hair and giving him a meaningful look.

Lin Yi had always seemed calm and composed to her in the past, as if nothing in the world could trouble him. Because of that, she’d once harbored a secret crush on him.

But life had taken them down different paths. She’d encountered all sorts of wealthy heirs and outstanding men, and her feelings for Lin Yi gradually faded.

Looking at him now, she realized how poor her taste had been back then. He looked unremarkable and dressed so plainly—she couldn’t help but shake her head and look down on him all the more.

Still, she didn’t forget the purpose of this meeting and got straight to the point. "Since we're here for a blind date, let's be direct. Do you have a house or a car?"

Lin Yi wasn’t offended. These days, houses and cars were the standard for blind dates—the basics for any potential partner.

"No," he answered, shaking his head.

Yang Mo sneered, "I figured as much. Do you have a job, then?"

"I work part-time as a waiter at a bar. I make about two thousand yuan a month," Lin Yi replied.

"A waiter?" The contempt in Yang Mo's eyes deepened.

What could one do with a salary of two thousand? Her makeup and handbags alone cost several thousand each.

Yang Mo, now feeling superior, said, "Isn't two thousand a bit low? I'm working at Linda Corporation now. They're looking for a security guard—pays over three thousand a month. Interested?"

Lin Yi's expression remained unchanged. Of course, he knew about Linda Corporation—he had founded it himself. It was a cross-province conglomerate worth billions. But he was only the man behind the curtain.

He could see through Yang Mo’s intentions, but said nothing.

"What would you like to drink? A cappuccino?" Lin Yi didn't want to dwell on the topic—there was no point.

He was, in fact, a cultivator—the last one on Earth, to be precise. The world was no longer suited for people like him. The geniuses of his era had long since returned to dust; only he remained.

He had lived so long he'd lost count of the years, forced to change identities constantly to avoid unwanted attention in this age of information. He wasn’t afraid—just disliked trouble.

His current identity was that of a third-rate college senior. This blind date had been arranged by a neighbor.

"No, thanks. Too many calories. I’ll just have plain water," Yang Mo replied with a raised eyebrow.

The message was clear—she looked down on Lin Yi and was making it obvious that they weren't on the same level.

Lin Yi said nothing more, sipping his glass of water.

"Hey, Yang Mo, is that really you?" a man’s voice called from behind.

Lin Yi turned to see a middle-aged man with a bloated figure. His hair was slicked into a middle part, glistening with who-knows-how-much pomade. He wore a suit and carried a leather bag under his arm, the very picture of a successful businessman.

"Wang, what brings you here?" Yang Mo put away her makeup compact immediately and hurried over, her voice soft and coy—nothing like the haughty tone she’d used with Lin Yi.

"Meeting a client, but there’s no table available," Wang Hongquan replied, giving her a playful slap on the backside and remarking, "Haven’t seen you in days—you’re looking better than ever."

"Oh, you’re terrible," Yang Mo replied, casting him a flirtatious glance.

Lin Yi felt a flicker of annoyance but kept his composure.

After all, Yang Mo was still technically his blind date. They hadn’t even left the table and here she was, openly flirting with another man. She clearly had no regard for him.

He said nothing, though—after all, they were just passing acquaintances.

Yang Mo’s personal life was notoriously messy; just last night, she’d been with several other men. Even if she weren’t so picky, Lin Yi would never consider her.

After a moment of flirting, Wang finally noticed Lin Yi. "Who’s he?"

"Just some loser who wants to hit on me. Ignore him," Yang Mo replied with disdain before turning back to Wang. "Wang, I’ve been using this handbag for over a month. Can you buy me a new one?"

"Heh, that can be arranged. But how will you thank me?" Wang replied, his hand wandering.

"You’re awful. Let’s go to a hotel later—you can do whatever you want," Yang Mo replied, her cheeks flushed. Then she shot an irritated look at Lin Yi, silently cursing his lack of tact.

She’d made things perfectly clear—there was no chance between them. Yet he was still lingering like a third wheel.

She finally snapped, "Hey, aren’t you going to leave?"

"Why should I go?" Lin Yi replied indifferently. He’d reserved the table. If anyone should leave, it was Yang Mo.

"You broke loser, do you really plan to eat here? Can you even afford it?" Yang Mo scoffed, then turned seductively to Wang. "You said there were no tables. This one’s not bad."

Lin Yi ignored her, calling a waiter and ordering a juice.

Yang Mo, seeing Lin Yi deliberately opposing her, bit her lip in frustration and sneered, "Lin Yi, this is a high-end restaurant and you only order a juice worth a few yuan? Have you no shame?"

She raised her voice deliberately, drawing the attention of nearby office workers. Many glanced over, their eyes flashing with disdain.

Anyone else might have blushed with embarrassment under those stares, wanting to disappear.

But Lin Yi remained composed. "Did any restaurant ever say I can’t just order something cheap?"

He didn’t feel humiliated—just annoyed by people who liked to nitpick.

Yang Mo was speechless, so she clung to Wang’s arm, her tone aggrieved. "Wang, look at him…"

Wang patted her hand reassuringly, giving her a knowing look. A penniless loser—just toss him a bit of money and he’d go away.

"One hundred yuan. I want this table," Wang announced loftily.

Lin Yi didn’t respond. Whether he left or not depended entirely on his mood. But after these two had disrupted his lunch, he was in no mood to entertain them.

Wang’s smile didn’t fade, but his words carried a threat. "Two hundred. Don’t get too greedy, kid. Or you might find yourself in trouble."

Lin Yi shook his head. "Even in a restaurant, flies are a nuisance."

Wang’s expression darkened instantly. This punk had just called him a fly.

He might not be a major boss, but he was a department manager at Linda Corporation—a prominent figure in Lancheng. To be mocked by some pauper was a blow to his pride.

"You dare call me a fly?" Wang glared.

"If you think the shoe fits," Lin Yi replied, sipping his juice.

"Do you know who you’re talking to, boy?" Wang, used to throwing his weight around, raised his hand to slap Lin Yi.

A cold flash flickered in Lin Yi’s eyes. He seized Wang’s wrist and, with a light twist downward—

Crack.

The sound of breaking bone echoed. Wang's face flushed beet red.

"Ah! It hurts! Let go! Let go, kid, please!" Wang cried, tears springing to his eyes.

He hadn’t expected this quiet young man to be so ruthless—one move and his wrist was broken.