Entertainment: A song that brought his deceased wife back to life.

The interior of the Rolls-Royce Phantom was eerily quiet.

The starry sky ceiling on the car shimmered with an expensive but useless light.

Xu Qing sat in the back seat.

The worn-out guitar case in his arms seemed out of place against the car's top-of-the-line Hermès orange leather interior.

It's like a piece of scrap metal being forcibly stuffed into a jewelry box.

The driver was the same burly man in black who had just pulled him out of the group of reporters.

This person drives very steadily.

It's so stable that even if you put a glass of water on the dial, it won't spill.

Xu Qing glanced at the fleeting street scene outside the window.

He had absolutely no interest in this luxury car that cost tens of millions of yuan to purchase.

He wouldn't have gotten on the bus at all if it weren't for the fact that the so-called "President Luo" had funded eighteen "Little Fish Hope Primary Schools".

"How much longer?"

Xu Qing's voice was a little hoarse.

He sang too hard on stage, and then he got messed up by that skin-peeling guy, so his throat feels like it's burning.

The bodyguard captain, who was driving in the front seat, visibly trembled as he gripped the steering wheel.

He glanced at the rearview mirror subconsciously.

The young man in the rearview mirror looked exhausted, with vacant eyes.

This is hardly a top online novelist or a billionaire.

This is a pathetic wretch who has lost his soul.

"Soon, Mr. Xu."

The bodyguard captain spoke very softly.

"The road conditions ahead are good; we'll be there in ten minutes."

Xu Qing didn't speak, but turned to look out the window.

The road conditions are indeed very good.

That's a bit too good.

It is currently the evening rush hour in Linhai City.

But there wasn't a single other car on the main road this car was traveling on.

Xu Qing didn't know.

In order to ensure that he could reach his destination without any obstacles.

The richest man in China, Luo Tianxiong, just made three phone calls to the Municipal Public Security Bureau.

Under the pretext of "receiving important foreign guests," the traffic police implemented temporary traffic control on the road leading to Genting Resort.

All private cars were stopped on the side road, and all the traffic lights were green – that's the power of capital.

The car quickly entered an area with frighteningly lush greenery. There were more trees than streetlights, and the cost of pruning each tree was enough for Xu Qing to eat instant noodles for a month.

Genting Manor.

The most mysterious and most expensive affluent area in Linhai City.

There is no such thing as a "king of buildings" here, because every building here is a king.

The car stopped in front of a huge European-style wrought iron gate.

The doors slowly opened to both sides, emitting a heavy and expensive mechanical sound.

Xu Qing got out of the car carrying the violin case. He looked up at the building in front of him, which was comparable to a palace.

His brows were habitually furrowed together, so furrowed that they made him seem empty.

The intricate reliefs on the walls and the huge fountain spraying water at the entrance exude a suffocating smell of money.

Xu Qing didn't like it here; it lacked a sense of life.

"Mr. Xu, please."

The bodyguard captain bowed and led the way, his attitude even more respectful than towards his own father.

Inside the main building of the villa, Luo Tianxiong, the richest man in Linhai City, was frantically admiring himself in the mirror in his study.

He just took off that bespoke suit worth hundreds of thousands of dollars.

A suit is too formal and intimidating, and might scare away this sensitive prospective son-in-law.

He changed into a Tang suit, made of pure cotton, which made him look rather refined and easy-going, like a retired old man.

"Old Zhang, do you think this looks good on me?"

Luo Tianxiong tugged at his collar and asked the butler beside him.

"Does he look like a cultured person?"

The housekeeper, Old Zhang, suppressed a laugh.

"picture."

"Sir, you look especially kind now."

"Like the old men who practice Tai Chi in the park."

Luo Tianxiong breathed a sigh of relief.

"That's good."

"By the way, have all the trophies been put away?"

"If he sees any trophies for 'Outstanding Entrepreneur' or 'Business Leader,' I'll be exposed."

"Don't worry, sir."

The housekeeper pointed to the empty display case.

"They've all been put into the warehouse."

"Now, this room is filled with nothing but books."

"it is good."

Luo Tianxiong took a deep breath.

"Remember, don't call me President Luo later."

Call me Lao Luo.

"Or you can call me a book lover."

"Don't give yourself away."

As they were talking.

The sound of a door closing came from downstairs, and Luo Tianxiong's heart skipped a beat.

This feeling is even more nerve-wracking than when the company went public and rang the opening bell.

After all, this wasn't a meeting with investors.

He was that unlucky son-in-law who was ruined by his own daughter and almost got blacklisted by his own subordinates.

If he doesn't handle this well, his daughter will hate him to death.

Luo Tianxiong walked quickly to the door.

He did not have the servants line up in two rows to shout "Welcome."

That would be too tacky, too nouveau riche; he stood alone in the entryway.

His face was plastered with that slightly fawning smile that's unique to seeing an idol.

Xu Qing had just changed into her slippers when she looked up.

Then a chubby middle-aged man with a face full of wrinkles, dressed in a Tang suit, rushed over.

"The Great Bluefish!"

"Oh my, I've heard so much about you!"

"I'm your biggest fan!"

My online name is "Old Luo," and I left a comment in your book review section!

As Luo Tianxiong spoke, he stretched out his hands.

Their enthusiasm was like that of a long-lost brother.

Xu Qing didn't reach out. He looked at the overly enthusiastic middle-aged man in front of him and took half a step back, an instinctive wariness.

"Hello there."

Xu Qing gave a slight bow, which was a matter of politeness, but nothing more.

"You said you're a donor to 'Little Fish Hope Primary School'?"

Xu Qing didn't waste any words and went straight to the point.

He has nothing left to lose in this world.

But he couldn't tolerate anyone joking about the little fish.

Luo Tianxiong's hand froze in mid-air, feeling a little embarrassed, but he reacted quickly and pulled his hand back, wiping it on his clothes.

"Yes, yes, it's me."

"I know you must have doubts, expert."

"After all, there are a lot of scammers these days."

Luo Tianxiong pulled out a neat stack of papers from his pocket. They were bank transfer receipts and a thank-you letter stamped by Hope Primary School.

"Please take a look."

"Among these eighteen primary schools, some were donated anonymously by me."

"When I first read that passage in the afterword of your book, where you said you wanted to build schools for children in impoverished mountainous areas..."

"I was so moved at that moment."

"Well, I happen to have some spare money on hand, so I'll take care of it for you."

Xu Qing took the receipts and examined them one by one. The official seals were genuine, and the dates were from a year ago.

That was when he was desperately writing books to earn money in order to "cure" Xiaoyu's illness.

He remembered mentioning it in his postscript.

He said that if he ever earns enough money, he will use the rest to build a school, in addition to treating Xiaoyu's illness.

Surprisingly, some people actually took this seriously.

Xu Qing's wariness finally subsided a bit, and he returned the receipt to Luo Tianxiong.

He bowed again, this time bending much more deeply than before.

"Thanks."

"I thank you on behalf of those children."

"And thank you on behalf of... Little Fish."