Men Youcai and Xiang Dianqian walked over to Pang Xuehen's side. The moment they saw the drawing on his sketchpad, both froze in place.
The composition was strikingly clean and refined. The orderly repetition of geometric lines created a rhythmic spatial harmony, while the interplay of light and shadow aggressively disrupted this symmetry with an almost invasive intensity. Despite being just a simple pencil sketch, it radiated such vivid chromatic tension that one's heartbeat instinctively quickened upon viewing it.
A master... This guy was a master!
A shiver ran down the spines of Men Youcai and Xiang Dianqian.
But when they focused to examine the details more closely—
Goosebumps erupted all over their bodies.
The sketch depicted the same golden Wishing Pool before them, yet within its apparent normalcy lurked an eerie, oppressive atmosphere. The clear flowing water took on a gelatinous, decaying texture, while the deities holding musical instruments under the light seemed to whisper grotesquely among themselves.
Where their own rendition of the fountain brimmed with radiant grandeur, Pang Xuehen's version dripped with uncanny mystery and unsettling obscurity.
The longer they stared, the more the hairs on their arms stood on end.
*Skritch-skritch-skritch…*
The rough, faint sound of graphite against paper continued.
Pang Xuehen was now entirely lost in his own artistic world, his pencil flying across the page.
"He's not just skilled—he's a genius!"
Men Youcai's eyes widened in awe, his expression one of sheer disbelief.
If there was one thing in this world that could effortlessly defy "hard work and diligence," trampling over others with sheer, unfair advantage—
it was raw talent.
While many never even reached the threshold where talent became the deciding factor,
the truth was, natural aptitude simply couldn't be matched by effort alone.
This was something innate, carried from the womb.
No matter how much one trained, they could only ever approach—never truly replicate—that level of brilliance.
Men Youcai and Xiang Dianqian had painstakingly deliberated, employing every technical and lighting trick to imbue their architecture with a sense of "narrative."
Yet Pang Xuehen achieved the same with nothing but a pencil and eraser.
This kind of talent gap could drive a person to despair—even madness.
Unlike Men Youcai, Xiang Dianqian wasn't as emotionally affected. Instead, he whispered:
"Brother Cai, what if we designed a 'dark version' of the Wishing Pool for the game's weapon gacha?"
Men Youcai whipped his head around to stare at his partner.
"Weapon gacha?"
Xiang Dianqian nodded.
"Yeah, Brother Cai. Besides the hero gacha, the game has a weapon gacha, right?"
"Since we already have a bright, heroic Wishing Pool, why not add a dark counterpart for weapons?"
"Plus, the main storyline is currently at the stage of divine warfare—bloodshed, chaos, the world in ruins. A dark Wishing Pool would fit perfectly!"
Men Youcai's eyes lit up with sudden realization.
"That makes sense!"
"How did I forget about the weapon gacha?!"
Xiang Dianqian's words instantly pulled Men Youcai out of his slump.
They were here to work, not compete in some art contest.
Over the following days,
the two sat by the Wishing Pool, sketching furiously, finally managing a rough outline of the golden structure at record speed.
Pang Xuehen, too, came daily with his stool, meticulously adding strokes to his sketchpad.
Though neither party ever spoke beyond polite nods,
when Men Youcai and Xiang Dianqian were deeply absorbed in their work, Pang Xuehen would sometimes quietly stand and sneak a peek at their progress.
Each time, his eyes filled with intense envy and insecurity.
They were drawing the same Wishing Pool,
yet their version exuded a glorious radiance,
while his own, no matter how he adjusted the lighting, stubbornly retained its eerie, shadowy tone.
And so, bound by mutual admiration and their own artistic insecurities,
they worked in peaceful coexistence, each lost in their own creation.
---
That evening,
Men Youcai and Xiang Dianqian sat in their hotel room, staring at the iPad, brows furrowed.
"It's no good, Brother Cai. We've tried everything, but we just can't replicate the dark effect in that guy's sketch."
Xiang Dianqian rubbed his temples in frustration.
Men Youcai, red-eyed from exhaustion, ran a hand through his hair.
For days, they had experimented with different rendering techniques.
Yet no matter how they layered or adjusted their digital painting, they couldn't capture the chilling dread of Pang Xuehen's work.
Though their technical skill allowed them to achieve a surface-level gloom,
it always felt artificial—lacking the organic, creeping unease of Pang Xuehen's piece.
Men Youcai gritted his teeth, stubbornly making a few more attempts with his stylus—
before finally slamming it down in defeat.
Talent was talent. There was no overcoming it.
They could submit their current work and call it done,
but as artists, they only accepted the best.
Having seen Pang Xuehen's masterpiece,
everything else felt mediocre—worthless!
Xiang Dianqian looked at him. "Brother Cai, what do we do?"
"I'll call the team lead and explain the situation."
Men Youcai pulled out his phone.
If you can't beat them, make them join you!
---
While the *Fengshen Fatu* development team and artists toiled away,
Wen Zifan, following Chen Jianhai's instructions, finalized the collaboration contract between Lang'ai Hotel and Digital Dynamics.
Chen Jianhai and Qin Li smoothly signed the agreement, stipulating that Lang'ai Hotel would fully host the game's anniversary celebration next year.
"Boss, congratulations!"
Wen Zifan gazed at Chen Jianhai with genuine admiration.
In just one week, he had secured three major contracts—one even spanning ten years. For any other hotel, this would be unthinkable.
With these funds, the hotel could now pursue even grander ventures!
"Mhm."
Chen Jianhai nodded at her praise before turning to his office.
*Huh? The boss seems off today…*
Wen Zifan watched his retreating figure, puzzled.
Normally, landing three contracts in a week—plus receiving direct praise—would have him grinning like an idiot.
Why did he look so troubled?
---
Inside the office,
Chen Jianhai held a desk calendar in one hand and a pen in the other, counting days with intense focus.
*Contracts are easy to sign, but money isn't easy to earn!*
The chaos of *The Sweetheart* film crew's stay was still fresh in his mind.
Back then, 80% of the hotel's guests had been actors' fans, sending complaint rates skyrocketing to historic highs—nearly giving him a stroke.
Next month, the "Didn't Expect One Here" film company from Chunyang Province would host its annual conference, bringing a flood of celebrities. If security slipped even slightly, fans would trample the hotel's doorstep flat!
*Knock knock.*
The door opened, revealing a round-faced, fair-skinned employee in his twenties—bright-eyed and slightly nervous.
"Boss, you wanted to see me?"
"Take a seat."
Chen Jianhai gestured to the sofa.
The employee—nicknamed "Mantou" (Steamed Bun) by colleagues for his plump cheeks—hesitated before sitting.
Assigned to the security department for his sharp wit and efficiency,
this was his first one-on-one with the big boss, and he was sweating bullets.
*Gulp.*
"Don't stress. I just have a task for you."
Chen Jianhai's tone was calm.
"From the 22nd to the 31st next month, the 'Didn't Expect One Here' film company will hold their annual conference here. Many celebrities will attend."
"Work with the security team to inspect all internal and external safeguards."
"Conduct a full review of theft prevention, fire safety, surveillance, sprinklers—everything."
"Increase patrols in guest corridors and rooms."
"If you're short on manpower or find issues, report to me immediately."
Security covered countless areas, but these were Chen Jianhai's immediate concerns.
Mantou, initially fearing he'd messed up, relaxed upon hearing the task and thumped his chest.
"Don't worry, Boss! I'll get it done!"
---
Watching Mantou leave with gusto,
Chen Jianhai set down the calendar, his gaze drifting out the window with unease.
The conference was manageable.
With top-tier accommodations, dining, and banquet facilities in Nanjiang,
the only real worry was security—now delegated.
Once Mantou completed the review, Chen Jianhai would personally verify each measure.
No, what truly gnawed at him was the *Fengshen Fatu* anniversary carnival.
Though his system could flawlessly recreate the game's world,
points were the problem.
Last night, he'd spent 2,000 points to simulate the game's iconic "Beacon Tower" in the system.
The final cost? 18,000 points.
Extrapolating, a full-scale replica would require at least 600,000 points!
His current wallet held barely 180,000—
and those weren't idle funds. The Summer Momo Café construction, daily hotel needs, future expansions—all depended on them.
Meaning,
He needed to earn 500,000 points in six months just to meet contractual obligations without crippling the hotel.
"500,000…"
*How the hell am I supposed to pull that off?!*
*GODDAMMIT!!!*
The mere thought made his head throb.
All he'd wanted was to maintain publicity for Lion Castle Hotel by partnering with Digital Dynamics.
Yet before seeing a single cent of profit, he'd saddled himself with debt.
*Even my tongue's blistering…*
Chen Jianhai sipped bitter tea, his throat sore from stress.
*Whatever! No giving up!*
With 180,000 points and three luxury hotels under his belt,
how hard could it be to scrape together 500,000 in half a year?!
*Piece of cake!*
Fueled by defiance, he yanked open a drawer, grabbed a calculator, and crunched numbers:
"Lang'ai Hotel and Little Island Jasmine are stable, with 90%+ satisfaction rates. Call it 90%."
"Lion Castle has fewer guests but similar ratings—also 90%."
"90% satisfaction = 90 points per hotel."
"Three hotels = 270 points daily."
"Six months = 48,600 points."
"To hit 400,000, I'd need… 5 years?!!!"
He squinted at the zeros.
Confirming it was two, not three,
Chen Jianhai's face fell.
*Might as well jump out the window. Life's over.*