The meeting with Feng Weizhong was not a negotiation. It was a lesson.
Wang Feng had arranged the call for nine o'clock on Wednesday morning, a video conference that connected the villa's study to a sleek, dark-panelled office in the Golden Phoenix Properties headquarters in Pudong. Feng Weizhong appeared on the screen as a man in his late fifties, silver-haired and square-jawed, with the kind of face that had been carved by decades of deal-making and the absolute certainty that everyone he met wanted something from him. He wore a suit that cost more than the annual salary of any of the scholarship students who lived in his dormitory, and his smile was the polished, practiced smile of someone who had learned long ago that charm was the cheapest form of armour.
"Mr. Lin," Feng Weizhong said, his voice smooth and unhurried. "I understand you want to purchase the East Gate Residence Hall. I'm afraid that particular property is not for sale. It's part of a long-term lease arrangement with Fudan University, and I have no intention of breaking that contract."
Lin Fan sat across from the screen, his posture relaxed, his expression calm. The God-Level Card Playing skill catalogued the micro-expressions: the slight tightening around the eyes, the almost imperceptible flicker of tension when he mentioned the lease. Feng Weizhong was not as confident as he appeared. The financial pressure from the loan investigation was already weighing on him, and the prospect of losing a single asset—even one as small as the dormitory—was a crack in his armour that he was trying very hard to hide.
"The lease is up for renewal next year," Lin Fan said. "You've been threatening to convert the building into luxury apartments unless the university agrees to a significant rent increase. That increase would displace the scholarship students who live there. Some of them would be forced to drop out."
Feng Weizhong's smile didn't waver. "The university has options. They could find alternative housing. Or they could agree to my terms. The building is a valuable asset, and I have a responsibility to my shareholders to maximise its value."
"Your shareholders include two members of the university's board of trustees. That's a conflict of interest. When it becomes public—and it will—the university will be forced to investigate. The lease renewal will be frozen. Your shareholders will face scrutiny. And the bank that holds your primary loan, which is already under investigation for irregular lending practices, will have another reason to call in your debt."
The smile flickered, just for an instant. Then it recovered. "You've done your research. I'm impressed. But research is not leverage. The bank is not going to call in a performing loan based on rumours and insinuations. And the university's board is not going to investigate its own members without concrete evidence of wrongdoing. You're a young man with a lot of money and very little experience in how these things actually work. I've been in this business for thirty years. I've faced down people far more powerful than you."
"Have you faced down someone who doesn't care about your experience?" Lin Fan leaned forward slightly, his voice still calm, still unhurried. "I'm not trying to negotiate with you, Mr. Feng. I'm giving you a choice. Sell me the East Gate Residence Hall at a fair price, and I'll ensure that the bank's investigation doesn't touch your primary loan. I'll also ensure that the conflict of interest on the board of trustees is handled quietly, without public scandal. You can continue running your company, and your son can continue his education, provided he leaves my sister and every other female student alone."
"And if I refuse?"
"Then I'll buy the bank that holds your loan and call it in myself. I'll acquire the shares of the investors who are pressuring the university. I'll make sure the regulatory investigation expands to include every irregularity in your company's history. And I'll make sure your son's behaviour becomes a matter of public record—not just the harassment, but the dismissed complaints, the threats, the pattern of predation that you've been enabling for years by refusing to hold him accountable."
Feng Weizhong's face had gone very still. The polished smile was gone, replaced by something colder and harder. "You're threatening my son."
"I'm describing consequences. There's a difference." Lin Fan met his eyes through the screen. "Your son has been harassing my sister for months. He's been doing the same to other students, using your wealth and your influence as a shield. You've been so busy building your empire that you haven't noticed what your son has become. Or perhaps you have noticed, and you simply don't care. Either way, the shield is about to be removed. The question is whether you want to have any control over how it happens."
The silence that followed was long and cold. Feng Weizhong's jaw was tight, his hands motionless on the desk in front of him. When he spoke again, his voice was very quiet. "You don't know what you're doing. You're a young man who came into money suddenly, and you think that money gives you power. But power is not about money. It's about relationships. Connections. The ability to make things happen behind the scenes. You have none of those things. I have thirty years of them."
Lin Fan pulled out the golden phone. He didn't show it to the screen—he simply held it in his hand, the familiar weight a quiet reassurance. The System, as if responding to some unspoken cue, vibrated once. Then the screen lit with a cascade of golden light.
*Ding!*
The sound was soft, but it filled the study. The cards appeared, one after another, white text on gold.
`[Beta Protocol: Moral Threshold Achieved — Protection of Vulnerable Students from Predatory Institutional Practices.]`
`[The host has identified a systemic injustice: the weaponisation of housing against scholarship students, enabled by conflicts of interest at the highest levels of university governance. The host's response—to acquire the asset and remove it from predatory control—is consistent with established moral patterns.]`
`[However, the System notes that a single building acquisition would address the symptom but not the cause. The host requires a broader instrument of influence.]`
`[Crimson Dividend — Educational Infrastructure Asset Allocation.]`
`[Primary Reward: 100% controlling interest in Fudan Campus Management Services, a privately held company that holds the property management contracts for seventeen university-owned buildings, including the East Gate Residence Hall, two additional dormitories, the faculty housing complex, and the student centre. The company also holds a 49% stake in a joint venture with the university's facilities department, giving it significant influence over maintenance, renovation, and housing policy decisions. Annual revenue: approximately 280 million RMB. Estimated market value: 2.1 billion RMB. The deed is registered under the host's name and may be transferred at will.]`
`[Secondary Reward: All existing management contracts and staff positions are honoured. The current General Manager, a woman named Zhang Hui, has been with the company for twelve years and has repeatedly advocated for improved conditions for scholarship students, only to be overruled by the previous ownership. She is an ally waiting to be informed.]`
`[Note: The host now owns the company that manages the very building he sought to acquire. This provides not only the immediate solution to his sister's housing vulnerability but also a platform for systemic reform of the university's treatment of its most vulnerable students. The conflict-of-interest board members will find that their leverage has disappeared. The bully's father will find that his threats have become meaningless. And the scholarship students will discover that someone, finally, is paying attention.]`
Lin Fan read the cards quickly, shielding the screen from the camera with his hand. Then he looked back at Feng Weizhong, who was still waiting, his expression a mixture of anger and confusion.
"You were saying something about relationships," Lin Fan said. "About connections. About the ability to make things happen behind the scenes. You're right. Those things matter. And as of about thirty seconds ago, I own Fudan Campus Management Services. The company that holds the property management contracts for seventeen university buildings, including the East Gate Residence Hall. Your lease is with that company, not with the university directly. And I am now your landlord."
Feng Weizhong's face went from pale to grey. "That's impossible. Fudan Campus Management is owned by a consortium of investors based in Hong Kong. I've been dealing with them for years. They would never sell to—"
"They just did. The transaction was completed through intermediaries. You can verify it with your own lawyers if you like. But the facts are now these: the lease on the East Gate Residence Hall will be renewed at the current rate, with a clause guaranteeing affordable housing for scholarship students in perpetuity. There will be no rent increase. There will be no conversion to luxury apartments. Your leverage over the university has been removed."
Feng Weizhong stared at the screen. His hands, which had been motionless, began to tremble slightly. He was a man who had spent thirty years believing that his wealth and his connections made him invulnerable, and he had just discovered that a twenty-six-year-old former industrial lubricant salesman had dismantled his position in less than a week.
"You can't do this," he said, his voice cracking. "I'll fight this. I'll sue. I'll—"
"You'll do nothing. Because if you fight, the bank investigation that I mentioned will become public. The loan irregularities will be exposed. Your business will collapse. And your son, who you have protected and enabled for his entire life, will be forced to face the consequences of his actions without your wealth to shield him." Lin Fan leaned back in his chair. "I'm still offering you the same choice I offered before. Cooperate, and the investigation will be handled quietly. Your company will survive. Your son will have the opportunity to get help and change his behaviour. Fight me, and you will lose everything."
The silence stretched for a long, cold moment. Then Feng Weizhong's shoulders sagged, and the fight went out of him. "What do you want me to do?"
"First, you will instruct your son to withdraw from Fudan University for the remainder of the semester. He will issue a written apology to every female student he has harassed, including my sister. He will enrol in a counselling programme focused on accountability and behavioural change. If he fails to complete the programme, or if he ever harasses another woman, I will make sure the full extent of his behaviour becomes public record, along with your role in enabling it."
Feng Weizhong nodded slowly, his face grey and exhausted.
"Second, you will cooperate with the bank's investigation. Not to obstruct it—to resolve it. Whatever irregularities exist in your loan documentation, you will correct them. You will pay whatever fines are assessed. You will ensure that your company operates within the law going forward."
Another nod.
"Third, you will resign from any position of influence you hold over Fudan University, including any informal relationships with board members. The conflict of interest that has protected your son will end today."
Feng Weizhong looked up, his eyes wet. "My son—will he be arrested?"
"That depends on him. If he completes the counselling programme and never harasses another woman, the past complaints will remain sealed. If he continues his behaviour, I will make sure the full weight of the law comes down on him. That's the deal. Take it or leave it."
The older man closed his eyes. When he opened them, there was something in his expression that Lin Fan had not expected: not gratitude, exactly, but the faint, grudging recognition that he had been outmanoeuvred and that the terms he was being offered were more merciful than he deserved.
"I'll take it," Feng Weizhong said. "I'll talk to my son tonight."
"Good." Lin Fan ended the call without another word.
---
He sat in the study for a long moment, the golden phone dark on the desk beside him. The heron was visible through the window, a grey sentinel at the lake's edge, motionless as always. The koi swam their slow, patient circles. The world was quiet, but the quiet was different now. It was the quiet of a problem solved, a predator neutralised, a system recalibrated.
Xiaoyue appeared in the doorway, her expression uncertain. "I heard your voice. Was that—"
"Feng Weizhong. He won't be a problem anymore." Lin Fan stood and walked to her. "The dormitory is safe. The scholarship students will stay exactly where they are. Feng Zihao is withdrawing from the university for the rest of the semester, and he's going to get counselling. If he ever harasses anyone again, I'll know about it."
"How? How did you—"
"I bought the company that manages the campus properties. Feng Weizhong's lease is with that company. He's now my tenant. And I've made it very clear what the terms of the lease renewal will be."
Xiaoyue stared at him. "You bought an entire company. In the time it took me to walk from the kitchen."
"I've been buying companies for months. I'm getting faster at it."
She laughed—a short, disbelieving sound that was almost a sob—and threw her arms around him. He held her for a long moment, feeling the tension drain from her shoulders, the knot that had been there for months finally beginning to loosen.
"I don't know how to thank you," she whispered.
"You don't have to. You're my sister." He pulled back and looked at her. "Now. I need to call the general manager of the campus management company and tell her that she has a new boss who actually cares about student housing. And you need to call your friends in the dormitory and let them know that the rent isn't going up. Ever."
She nodded, wiping her eyes. "They're not going to believe me."
"Then tell them to call the company's office. The announcement will be official by tomorrow."
She smiled—a genuine, unguarded smile that he hadn't seen in months. "You're terrifying, Lin Fan. Do you know that?"
"So I've been told."
She walked back to the kitchen, and Lin Fan returned to the study. The golden phone was still dark, but he could feel its presence—a quiet, steady hum at the edge of his awareness. He pulled it out and looked at the screen. A single line of text glowed softly:
`[The system does not reward aggression. It rewards protection. You have protected the vulnerable. That is the work. Continue.]`
He put the phone away. The heron stood at the lake's edge. The koi swam their circles. The campus management company was his. And somewhere in Pudong, a wealthy man was about to have the most difficult conversation of his life with a son who had never been told no.
The builder had mended another crack. And the work would continue.