Lu Qianqian locked herself in her room and didn’t emerge for an entire day.
Lou Mengling’s heart ached for her. Time and again, she carried meals to knock on the door, only to be met with silence or the occasional muffled sob laced with suppressed anger.
At her wit’s end, Lou Mengling sought out Lu Chenyuan in the study.
“Chenyuan, look at this mess. Qianqian has never endured such humiliation before. If she keeps refusing food and water, how will her body hold up? Maybe… you could relent for now? The community cafeteria matter can wait until after her birthday?” Her tone was thick with worry and compromise.
Lu Chenyuan set down the documents in his hands and looked up at his mother, his gaze gentle yet resolute.
“Mom, if we yield now, all our efforts so far will be wasted. She’s throwing a tantrum because she knows you’ll soften—because she’s learned tears are her most effective weapon. We can’t let her rely on that anymore.”
He pulled a freshly printed proposal from the drawer and handed it to Lou Mengling. “Take a look at this.”
Puzzled, she accepted it. The A4 sheet bore a clear heading in Song typeface:
Lu Qianqian’s Senior Year "Youth Leader" Independence Plan (Phase One).
The schedule meticulously divided every hour of Lu Qianqian’s day.
“This…” Lou Mengling stared at the half-hour-by-half-hour breakdown, momentarily speechless.
This was nothing like the outright punishment she’d imagined. Instead, it resembled a carefully crafted blueprint for growth.
“Qianqian is still a senior—her studies can’t be neglected,” Lu Chenyuan explained.
“I consulted her homeroom teacher and assessed her academic workload. Three hours of community service in the afternoon achieves our goal of life experience without overtaxing her. As for the weekend reflection reports, they’re to teach her critical thinking, not to treat this as mere manual labor.”
Watching his mother’s expression gradually soften, he continued,
“Mom, this isn’t about punishment. It’s about molding her. A daughter of the Lu family can’t just be a greenhouse-raised doll wrapped in luxury brands.
She needs independence, empathy, and a fundamental understanding of society. This plan is the first step. I’ll arrange dedicated transport for safety, but the rules stand—thirty days, not one less.”
Lou Mengling fell silent.
Her son’s calm, penetrating eyes held a steely resolve she’d never seen before.
She knew then: Lu Chenyuan wasn’t joking. He was genuinely steering this family—and Qianqian’s future.
After a long pause, she sighed and set the proposal gently on the desk. “I understand. I’ll talk to her. We’ll do it your way.”
Lu Chenyuan nodded, watching her leave the study.
He knew he’d already won half the battle against Lu Qianqian.
Time would sand down the rest of her spoiled edges.
With family matters settled, the night had deepened.
Alone behind his expansive desk, Lu Chenyuan opened his laptop.
He bypassed corporate emails, browsing the internet like any ordinary netizen.
As a transmigrator, his greatest advantage wasn’t just inheriting the original host’s memories and identity—it was the knowledge from another world.
He needed to gauge this world’s technological landscape swiftly, pinpointing the perfect entry point for his ambitions.
Search. Browse. Compare.
An hour later, he leaned back in his chair, eyes alight with exhilaration and calculation.
He’d noticed something fascinating.
Macro-level technologies—aerospace, military, telecommunications—mirrored his previous world’s progress.
Yet in civilian applications and business models, there was a subtle lag.
Smartphones were ubiquitous, but mobile payment coverage lacked the seamless penetration he remembered.
Short-video platforms thrived, yet their recommendation algorithms relied on basic tag-matching, far from the “smarter-than-you” AI curation he knew.
New energy vehicles existed, but battery density, charging efficiency, and cost hurdles remained unsolved—problems his former world had cracked years prior.
AI, biopharma, advanced materials… Every cutting-edge field followed familiar trajectories but lagged by half a beat.
To most, that gap meant nothing. To a transmigrator with foresight? An inexhaustible goldmine.
His fingers drummed the desk, the policy and industry acumen honed as a poverty-alleviation official now fully awakened.
He couldn’t remain shackled to the Lu conglomerate’s tangled family politics.
In the original storyline, infighting and obsolete industries doomed the Lu empire.
He needed a new empire—wholly his, entirely under his control.
And these “half-step” gaps? Perfect leverage to pry open the future.
A grand vision began crystallizing.
He required capital—massive, liquid, untraceable to the Lu Group’s ledgers.
His gaze landed on the Lu Group’s stock chart.
A flawless curve took shape in his mind.
Then, his private phone vibrated softly.
An encrypted message from Lin Yuan:
“President Lu, Fourth Young Master Lu Chenjin is at the ‘Red Bay’ underground racetrack tonight. He’s involved in high-stakes gambling—already lost 2 million cash. Intel suggests he’s mortgaging his limited-edition Lykan HyperSport for a final bet.”
Lu Chenyuan’s pupils constricted. The excitement in his eyes froze into glacial sharpness.
Lu Chenjin—his youngest brother, the Lu family’s black sheep.
A reclusive prodigy who obeyed no one but his cars… and Lu Qianqian.
In the original plot, Li Jinchuan had weaponized him.
Those peerless driving skills, meant for glory on international circuits, became tools for gang wars and illicit deals—ending in tragedy.
“Send the address.” Six characters in reply. He grabbed his suit jacket from the chair.
Trouble on the board always came piece by piece.
While strategizing the future, he’d also have to forcibly realign every piece veering off course—starting now.