"Qin… Young Master Qin… How about I find another spot?"

Lao Biao winced, clutching his stomach as he steadied himself against a lamppost and slightly adjusted his clothes.

It didn’t really hurt—but he had to *look* pained. Who knew what’d happen next if he didn’t…

Still, Young Master Qin had changed a lot since leaving the hospital days ago. Sharper. Stronger. Unrecognizable.

Pressing his forehead to a gun barrel. Ordering him to confront Young Master Si. Brushing off injuries like they were nothing.

That calm yet commanding aura left Lao Biao stunned.

*Masaka… Did Young Master really knock some sense into himself with that fall?!*

"Please remember to buy tickets and queue properly before entering!"

At the park gates, mascots waved cheerfully—Pikachu, Psyduck, Mickey Mouse—while female staff checked passes nearby.

"Wait… why didn’t anyone stop *us*?" Qin Cheng blinked. No tickets asked. No questions.

"This amusement park belongs to your family’s holdings, Young Master."

Lao Biao pointed toward a distant signboard.

Qin Cheng glanced up. Carved clearly: *Qingyun*.

*So this is the infamous "evil of capitalism"?*

Just then, shouting erupted ahead. The flowing crowd halted, instinctively circling the commotion.

Yep. Humans will always gather for drama.

"Young Master? Shall we take a look?"

Lao Biao stood tall beside him—stern face, black suit, an aura of quiet authority. He gazed toward the center.

Strange how a three-meter bubble of space surrounded them despite the packed crowd.

"Nothing better to do. Might as well."

As heir to the property, checking in felt… appropriate.

"Understood."

Lao Biao strode forward. His height and sharp suit made onlookers grumble but step aside without protest.

*Hmph. Being tall really does let you have your way.*

At the center stood a pot-bellied, nearly bald man dripping in designer labels, a thick gold chain around his neck, silver rings glinting on his fingers.

Beside him, a heavily made-up woman—the textbook nouveau riche pair.

Opposite them, a girl in a crisp white shirt knelt, her high ponytail sharp, eyes clear and blazing with defiance. She clutched a black bag tightly to her chest.

"You bitch! Give my stuff back!"

Flustered by the swelling crowd, anxiety flickered across the man’s face.

"I won’t! *You* stole this from us!"

She hugged the bag stubbornly, jaw set, not an inch of surrender.

"Little brat! Think I won’t slap you? Stealing and acting righteous?!"

He lunged, hand swinging—but she dodged nimbly.

"I’m not lying! *You* stole it! Fat bastard! F*** you! I’m so salty! For heaven’s sake, have some shame!"

Darting away, she shot mocking glances over her shoulder, tongue out in playful taunt.

"Just you wait till I catch you!!!" he roared, face crimson.

The scene turned utterly absurd.

"Pfft—"

Qin Cheng let out a quiet chuckle. *This girl’s got spirit.*

"The hell are *you* laughing at, kid?!"

Humiliated and unable to catch the girl, the man whirled toward Qin Cheng, scowling, finger jabbing dangerously close to his face.

"Brother, save me! I’m your cousin!!"

The ponytailed girl’s eyes lit up. She scampered behind Qin Cheng and Lao Biao, peeking out with feigned innocence.

Qin Cheng frowned slightly. *Of all places…* He shot Lao Biao a glance.

Instantly understanding, Lao Biao stepped forward. Towering over the man, he lowered his gaze and extended a hand…