"Badass my ass!" Chen Jianhai nearly blacked out from rage.
Before he could unleash his fury, Xiaolang exploded first.
"Bo! Don't you have a competition coming up?!"
"You sold your noodle recipe—how will you compete?!"
Xu Bo shrugged. "Same as always. It's not my only skill."
With a faint smile, he added, "A chef needs more than one trick to keep his position."
Damn it!
Still acting cool at a time like this!
If not for Xu Bo's precious hands needed for kneading dough, Chen Jianhai would've kicked him senseless.
That same day, Chen Jianhai had Wen Zifan return Xiaolang and Xu Bo's money.
But the noodle recipe and East Sea Dragon Palace were gone for good.
The barbecue joint had been a thriving business with loyal customers.
Under Xiaolang's management, its popularity had only grown—buying it back at the sale price was impossible.
As for Xiaolang's beloved BMWs, sold cheaply in haste, repurchasing them would cost double.
Worse, Xiaolang's fastidious nature meant he'd never reclaim items once used by others.
"First glance topples cities, second glance topples kingdoms."
"Three visits weary the world's schemes; drawing my sword, I stand lost in thought."
Gazing at the empty garage, Xiaolang shut the door with feigned nonchalance, eyes betraying the bitterness of a man pretending not to regret a breakup.
Xu Bo, meanwhile, seemed in high spirits.
Selling his noodle recipe for 3 million wasn't a loss but validation of his skills.
With Chen Jianhai's deliberate publicity, soon the entire hotel knew about "Xu Qiaoni's 3-million-yuan noodle recipe."
Not only did the kitchen staff's morale soar, even Xu Badie walked around beaming with paternal pride for days.
---
Soon,
As the first batch of overseas trainees returned,
A second group boarded planes with domestic souvenirs, heading to foreign hotels.
One morning, Lin Suyang led the copywriter through Lion Castle Hotel's office building toward Chen Jianhai's office.
"Minister... I'm nervous."
The copywriter trailed behind, every muscle tense.
Lin Suyang rolled his eyes. "Nervous about what? You're not scared meeting the university president!"
The copywriter explained solemnly: "That's different! The president doesn't pay me or fire me."
But Boss Chen was the money-giving patriarch!
Though not a hotel employee,
Over the past year, the copywriter had single-handedly produced all of Chen Jianhai's promotional materials while crafting custom horror stories for Room 1703.
His piece *True Accounts from Lion Lake Castle Hotel Staff* topped paranormal forums with massive engagement—multiple fan groups had formed,
Buzzing daily with discussions on feng shui, mysteries, object placement, magnetic fields, and other esoterica.
The copywriter had been peacefully writing at home when Lin Suyang suddenly summoned him to Zaomen, saying Chen Jianhai wanted to meet.
Heart pounding with excitement and anxiety, he'd taken an overnight train.
"Minister, any idea why Boss Chen wants to see me?" he whispered en route.
"Some big project?"
"Not that I know of." Lin Suyang pondered, then shrugged. "Maybe he just wants to meet you."
"Meet... me?" The copywriter blinked. "What's there to see about some random guy?"
If they needed writing, Lin Suyang or Zhao An could've contacted him directly.
Perhaps the hotel mogul faced operational challenges and sought his advice?
Yes, that must be it.
Back in the publicity department, Zhao An often sought his counsel during decision-making crises.
No other explanation made sense.
The copywriter's gaze turned profound...
---
Though familiar with Lion Castle Hotel through videos and photos,
Seeing it in person left him awestruck.
A hotel entrance hidden behind a small-town secondhand bookstore?
He wouldn't dare write such whimsy—yet Chen Jianhai had built it in reality!
The audacity, the extravagance, the sheer scale!
This visionary execution left the copywriter utterly humbled.
Facing the legendary boss, he practiced breathing exercises to calm his nerves.
Knocking, entering—
A young executive rose from his desk with a warm smile:
"Have a seat."
The copywriter stood awkwardly until Lin Suyang shoved him onto the couch, then exited, leaving them alone.
Stealing glances around—
Ah, the opulent fireplace!
Ah, the exquisite rug!!
Ah, the elegant walnut bookshelves!!!
Though ignorant of their value, his instincts screamed wealth.
"Relax, treat this like school. Some tea?" Chen Jianhai offered kindly.
"Mhmm."
The copywriter tried appearing natural, but his rigid posture, perched on the couch's edge with hands primly on knees, betrayed him.
"I've read all your articles—excellent work," Chen Jianhai praised.
"Lin Suyang mentioned your fan groups. Any plans to organize events?"
"None." The copywriter answered bluntly, puzzled.
"Funding issues?" Chen Jianhai frowned.
"That's part of it," the copywriter admitted.
"Also, most members are metaphysics enthusiasts more interested in Room 1703 than me. Hard to gather them."
Chen Jianhai's eyebrows shot up. Leaning forward, he asked with genuine curiosity:
"What exactly do these metaphysics fans discuss?"
The copywriter explained: "They analyze Room 1703's location, object placements, historical events, even latitude-longitude magnetic fields to explain its paranormal phenomena."
Chen Jianhai laughed: "*Approaching Science*?"
The copywriter smiled awkwardly: "Basically... yeah."
Chen Jianhai grinned. "Nothing wrong with that! But photos and videos only go so far."
"Here's an idea—host an event for your fan groups."
"Any member can stay free in Room 1703 for one night."
"Hotel covers lodging; they handle travel."
The copywriter gaped. "Boss Chen, is that... appropriate?"
"Typical fan meets just need a venue for signings and chats. This seems excessive!"
Chen Jianhai waved it off. "Perfectly appropriate."
"Your stories promote Room 1703. The hotel supporting your event is natural."
"Besides, as you said, their interest lies more with the room than you. Why not let them experience it firsthand?"
"What do you think?"
"I... have no objections." The copywriter flushed crimson.
This was a dream come true for him and his fans!
With Chen Jianhai's blessing, he could only rejoice.
Chen Jianhai smiled. "Great, no time like the present."
"Announce it today; we'll host guests tomorrow."
*Pfft!*
The copywriter nearly spat his tea.
So sudden?!
Twenty-plus years of life experience warned him: free lunches didn't exist.
Was this a trap?
Yet Chen Jianhai's legendary generosity circulated through campus lore—what could a tycoon possibly want from him?
After deliberation, he concluded:
Perhaps this was simply entrepreneurial boldness.
Awe for the young magnate swelled in his heart.
"Understood, Boss Chen! I'll notify my fans immediately."
"Many are feng shui experts. They'll be thrilled to visit Room 1703."
Chen Jianhai beamed. "Delighted to hear it!"
"Tonight, you'll stay in Room 1703—complimentary, of course."
The copywriter's smile froze. "That won't be necessary! Any ordinary room will do."
Chen Jianhai insisted: "Nonsense! Though not my employee, you're family like Lin Suyang and the rest!"
The copywriter pleaded: "Really, I'm fine anywhere—"
Chen Jianhai interrupted firmly: "Unacceptable!"
"You're our guest! How could we house you carelessly?"
"Consider it relaxation. How can you write authentically without experiencing Room 1703?"
The copywriter nearly wept: "Boss Chen, it's not modesty—I'm terrified of sleeping alone in the dark. Truly."
Chen Jianhai's eyes gleamed.
*Perfect.*
*I'm counting on your fear!*
"No need for false humility! You write horror despite being scared?" Chen Jianhai's gaze turned steely.
One more refusal, and violence seemed imminent.
The copywriter trembled.
So this was the real purpose!
Not a meeting, but predation.
He was here to be sacrificed!
Under duress, the copywriter forced a smile grimmer than tears:
"...Fine. Thank you, Boss Chen."
Watching his doomed departure, Chen Jianhai felt equal parts excitement and guilt.
*For Lion Castle Hotel!*
*For its terror metrics!!*
*For its Halloween theme!!!*
*Forgive me... brother.*
---
Chen Jianhai had snapped.
Crushed under 500,000 points,
Thrust unexpectedly into Shell Association leadership,
With Lion Castle Hotel's guest numbers still dismal and year-end dividends shameful—
He'd resolved to transform operations through drastic measures: waiving Room 1703 fees to accumulate terror points.
First, he'd tried rotating staff through the room,
Offering 5,000-yuan bonuses per night to motivate participation.
Knife Dumpling, the initial volunteer, boasted he'd move in permanently if paid daily.
Yet before 2 a.m., the butcher came fleeing barefoot and shirtless,
Later offering 10,000 yuan to never return.
Thus ended the monetary incentive plan.
If even the kitchen's most intimidating tough guy couldn't endure, others stood no chance.
Calculations showed Room 1703 needed nightly occupants to hit 100 terror points by Christmas.
After much deliberation, Chen Jianhai targeted the copywriter's fanbase.
Horror story enthusiasts fell into two camps: the genuinely brave, and the "scared but curious" thrill-seekers.
A free stay might lure them in, skyrocketing terror points!
Or... none might come.
Unpredictable.
But having exhausted all options, Chen Jianhai could only leave the rest to fate.
---
"Seriously?!"
"Copywriter's staying in 1703 tonight?!!"
In the publicity office, Zhao An nearly jumped for joy.
"Cameras! Recorders! Set up everything!!"
"Emergency overtime—volunteers raise hands!!"
Surveying the unanimous response, Zhao An's eyes burned with manic glee as he planted a foot on his chair...