The wedding was livestreamed by the sister, revealing his identity as a Taoist priest.

7:30 p.m.

The plaza in front of the Jiangcheng Peninsula Hotel is so empty that a horse could run across it.

At this time of day, the hotel entrance is usually packed with luxury cars, but today you can't even see a leaf.

Wang Hai, along with the heads of twelve departments, stood on the steps.

I checked my watch every half minute, and the sweat on my forehead kept coming back up.

I stood on the steps for half an hour, and my calves were about to cramp up.

The lobby manager came over and handed over a hot towel.

"Mr. Wang, wipe your sweat. It's not even hot today, why are you sweating so much?"

Wang Hai shoved the towel away and cursed in a low voice.

"You don't know anything! Anyone who comes tonight could sneeze and cause a Category 12 typhoon in Jiangcheng."

He pointed to the hotel entrance and tapped it twice with his finger.

"Make sure the kitchen staff keeps a close eye on things. If the food temperature is even one degree off, I'll skin them alive!"

The lobby manager shrank back in fright and quickly ran back to the lobby to keep an eye on things.

Across the street, fifty meters away, is the subway station entrance.

The evening rush hour had just ended, and several workers who had just finished get off work were gathered on the roadside buying snacks.

Programmer Li Qiang pushed up his black-rimmed glasses and took a big bite of the roasted sweet potato in his hand.

He pointed at the Peninsula Hotel across the street, his words mumbled indistinctly.

"Aunt Wang, did the Peninsula Hotel go out of business today?"

Grandma Wang, who sells roasted sweet potatoes, was turning over the sweet potatoes with tongs when she heard this and looked up.

"That can't be right."

Aunt Wang wiped her hands with her apron.

"Yesterday I saw the big boss of the Zhou family go in to book a banquet, saying he was going to celebrate his 70th birthday."

She placed the roasted sweet potato into the iron plate next to her.

"Why isn't there a soul around today?"

Deliveryman Zhao Gang stopped his electric bike in front of the stall and pushed his helmet up.

"Auntie, give me a grilled sausage."

Zhao Gang followed their gaze and chuckled.

"Is that even a guess? They must have offended someone and got shut down."

Pointing to the empty square, his tone was resolute.

"Normally at this time, those big bosses' Maybachs would be parked on the non-motorized vehicle lane, but today the square is so clean you could go ice skating."

Li Qiang swallowed the sweet potato in a few bites, then took out his phone to shoot a short video.

"Jiangcheng's No. 1 Hotel is suspected of going bankrupt; this headline is sure to get traffic."

He had just pointed the camera at the hotel entrance, but hadn't even pressed the record button yet.

Suddenly, a blinding barrage of high beams swept across from the end of the road.

The deep roar of the engine made one's feet go numb.

Li Qiang squinted, his hand holding the phone frozen in mid-air.

Five all-black Rolls-Royce Phantoms were lined up in a straight line.

The convoy drove slowly into the plaza of the Peninsula Hotel.

The lead car had a small golden statuette on its hood that gleamed coldly.

The license plate number was 京A, followed by a string of extremely conspicuous consecutive numbers.

Li Qiang's hand trembled, and he almost dropped his phone on the ground.

Zhao had just taken a bite of the grilled sausage when it fell directly onto the footrest of the electric scooter.

Holy crap!

Li Qiang swore and his eyes widened like saucers.

"A license plate from Beijing? And a consecutive number of that caliber?"

He grabbed Zhao Gang's arm and shook it hard twice.

"Which big shot from Beijing did they bring here?"

Although Aunt Wang didn't know much about cars, she knew from this scene that she couldn't afford to offend anyone.

They quickly moved the sweet potato roaster back a bit, afraid of blocking the feng shui of the place.

At the hotel entrance, Wang Hai jogged down the steps.

He bent over so low his back almost touched his knees as he personally opened the door of the first Rolls-Royce.

Ye Canghai, dressed in a dark blue Tang suit and holding a jade walnut in his hand, stepped out of the car.

The four bodyguards in black immediately spread out behind him, protecting the surrounding area tightly.

"Who's that old man? He's making such a grand entrance!"

Zhao Gang lowered his voice, afraid that the other side would hear him.

Li Qiang frantically pressed the shutter button, snapping more than a dozen photos in quick succession.

"Who cares who it is, I've got material for my WeChat Moments today!"

Head down, I quickly edited my WeChat Moments post, my fingers tapping the screen at lightning speed.

"I'll just write a caption for it: 'A big shot from the capital city parachutes into Jiangcheng, and I was fortunate enough to witness it.'"

When I clicked on it, all the comments below were sarcastic.

"Qiangzi, are you hallucinating from working overtime? How could a run-down place like Jiangcheng attract big shots from Beijing?"

"This photo is well photoshopped. Don't photoshop it next time, it looks fake."

"Go wash up and go to bed. You have to get up early to clock in tomorrow."

Li Qiang gritted his teeth in anger, his fingers tapping rapidly on the screen.

"You guys don't know anything! I'm right here! I'll record a video for you right now!"

The moment he raised his phone, Lei Zhen's George Button team bombarded him with messages.

Eight off-road vehicles, accompanied by violent air currents, swirled up fallen leaves on the ground.

The convoy came to a stop, and Lei Zhen pushed open the car door and jumped out.

With a cigar in his mouth and a black trench coat draped over his shoulders, his eyes were as fierce as a hungry wolf.

A bodyguard in black immediately stepped forward, holding a pure gold ashtray in both hands.

Lei Zhen shoved his cigar into the ashtray, straightened his collar, and strode toward the hotel.

Li Qiang recorded the entire scene and sent it directly to the group chat.

"Open your dog eyes and look! Is this real?!"

The group chat went silent for a moment. After about ten seconds, someone sent a voice message, their voice trembling.

"Holy crap, isn't that Lei Zhen, the shipping tycoon of Guangdong? I saw him on the cover of a financial magazine last month!"

Zhao Gang leaned over and glanced at Li Qiang's phone, then swallowed hard.

"Dude, your group of friends is pretty knowledgeable. What exactly do these people do?"

Before they could figure it out, the third convoy arrived.

Twelve Maybach S680s glided into the square like ghosts.

He Yunting stepped out of the car, wearing gold-rimmed glasses, exuding a refined and scholarly air.

The oppressive feeling of being in a high position for a long time can make you feel suffocated even from fifty meters away.

Followed by.

The Bentley Mulsanne racing team of the Zheng family in Donghai.

The Li family's Alphard bulletproof nanny van fleet on Hong Kong Island.

One wave after another, the colorful headlights of cars illuminated the Peninsula Hotel's plaza as if it were daytime.

Li Qiang held his phone and frantically searched for these license plate numbers online.

With each search result, his face grew paler.

When he finally finished searching, he let go of the phone, and it fell to the ground with a "thud," cracking the screen in two places.

He didn't even bother to pick it up; he seemed completely drained of energy.

"It's all over, it ...."

Li Qiang's lips trembled.

Zhao Gang quickly picked up his phone and dusted it off.

"What's wrong, bro? Heartbro, your phone broke?"

"Feeling sorry for you?!"

Li Qiang snatched the phone and pointed it at the hotel entrance.

"Do you know who those people who just went in were?"

Who is it?

Aunt Wang also came over to listen to the gossip.

"The Ye family of Beijing, the He Yunting family of Shanghai, and the Zheng family of Donghai!"

Li Qiang rattled off several names in one breath, his voice trembling.

"This is practically half of China's business world! They've all flocked to Jiangcheng!"

Upon hearing this, Zhao Gang's legs went weak, and he couldn't even hold onto his electric scooter.

"Half of China's population? Holding their annual meeting in this tiny place?"

Grandma Wang held the pliers, stunned for a long time, and finally managed to utter a sentence.

"After their meeting, do they come out to buy roasted sweet potatoes?"