Chapter 3: The President's Welcome
The café smelled faintly of roasted beans and fresh pastries. Soft jazz played in the background, a low murmur of voices weaving between clinking cups. Lin Hao sat in the far corner, his cheap laptop open before him, his reflection staring back from the black screen.
He had wiped his palms three times already on his jeans, but the sweat kept returning. His heart hammered in his chest as if trying to escape. On the small saucer beside him sat a half-finished cup of cappuccino—expensive, at least for him. He hadn't even tasted it properly; his stomach was too tight with nerves.
At exactly 2:00 PM, the screen flickered to life. The secure conference link Xu Yaqin had sent him opened with a soft chime, pulling him into a new world.
A figure appeared on the screen.
The man was in his fifties, with sharp, defined features and silver hair combed neatly back. His suit was dark, immaculate, with the Lamborghini emblem pinned to his lapel. He exuded a kind of natural authority, the kind that came from decades of commanding boardrooms and negotiating billion-dollar deals. Even through pixels and glass, his presence filled the space.
"Mr. Lin Hao," the man said in smooth, fluent English, his accent unmistakably Italian. His voice was calm, but it carried weight, like the low purr of an engine with immense power beneath the hood. "Welcome to Lamborghini."
For a split second, Lin Hao froze. The words felt unreal, almost absurd. He, the man who had lived on instant noodles, who counted every coin before paying rent, was being welcomed into one of the most prestigious companies in the world.
He straightened, forcing himself to calm. His throat felt dry, but he managed to reply. "It's… it's an honor, President Rossi."
Lorenzo Rossi inclined his head slightly, the gesture subtle but respectful. His eyes seemed to measure Lin Hao carefully, not with suspicion but with curiosity—like a man evaluating the newest member of an elite circle.
"The pleasure is ours," Rossi said. "The transfer of one percent equity has been finalized. From today, you are not merely an admirer of Lamborghini, but one of its partners. We welcome you into our family of shareholders."
Lin Hao's chest tightened. Though he already knew this, hearing it spoken aloud by the President of Lamborghini Asia-Pacific made it tangible. Real.
"Thank you, President Rossi," he said, his voice steadier now.
Rossi's expression softened slightly. "Lamborghini values all of its partners. Your one percent stake may seem modest, but in truth it represents a significant commitment and responsibility. We do not take such commitments lightly."
Lin Hao nodded quickly, trying to project the composure of a seasoned businessman. Inside, however, his thoughts raced: If only you knew… if only you knew I didn't pay a single cent. If only you knew this was the system's doing, not mine.
But that was a truth that could never be spoken. Outwardly, he could only play the part of the investor Rossi assumed him to be.
"Of course," Lin Hao replied. "I'll do my best to live up to the responsibility."
Rossi gave a small approving nod. "Good. Then allow me to outline what this means for you."
He leaned slightly forward, his voice calm but deliberate, the tone of an executive briefing another executive.
"First: dividends. Each year, Lamborghini distributes a portion of profits to its shareholders. Last year, our revenue exceeded three billion euros. The margins were healthy. Based on that, your one percent translates into an annual income worth millions. This will be handled automatically through our financial department."
Lin Hao's heart pounded harder. He had expected wealth, but hearing it framed so plainly—millions every year—sent a thrill down his spine. That was more than he could have earned in a lifetime at his old job.
"Second," Rossi continued, "your stake gives you the right to attend shareholder meetings and vote on major company decisions. One percent is not insignificant in our structure. It entitles you to a voice in shaping Lamborghini's future."
Lin Hao pressed his lips together, trying not to let the shock show on his face. A voice. In shaping Lamborghini. He wasn't just receiving free money—he was, at least on paper, an active participant in one of the most iconic brands in the world.
"Third," Rossi said, a faint smile appearing, "is the prestige. Lamborghini is more than an automobile manufacturer. It is a statement, a symbol. Being part of it means you will enjoy privileges and opportunities afforded to very few. Exclusive access to new models, private events, personal services. These are not mere perks, but reflections of what it means to be part of Lamborghini's inner circle."
Lin Hao inhaled slowly, his fingers tightening on the edge of the table. He remembered his ex-girlfriend sneering at him, telling him he could never give her the life she wanted. If only she could hear these words now.
"Lastly," Rossi said, his tone returning to businesslike firmness, "our annual shareholders' meeting is scheduled in two days in Hong Kong. It will be attended by our largest stakeholders, executives, and board members. I strongly encourage you to attend. It is not only tradition, but also an excellent way to establish your presence and connections among your peers."
Lin Hao's breath caught. Hong Kong. A shareholder meeting. Billionaires, tycoons, moguls—men and women whose names appeared in international finance headlines. And him. Sitting in the same room.
"I will attend," he said quickly, without hesitation.
"Excellent," Rossi replied, his expression approving. "My assistant, Ms. Xu, will coordinate your travel and accommodations. Everything will be arranged to our standards. You need only confirm your availability."
"Yes. Thank you, President Rossi," Lin Hao answered.
Rossi inclined his head again, the faint smile returning. "Then I look forward to meeting you in person, Mr. Lin. Once again, welcome to Lamborghini."
The screen faded to black as the call ended.
Lin Hao remained frozen in his chair, staring at the empty reflection of himself on the laptop screen. His chest rose and fell rapidly, his pulse drumming in his ears.
For several moments, the noise of the café—the chatter, the clinking cups—sounded far away, as if he were still inside that call.
Then slowly, his lips curled upward.
He had just spoken directly with the President of Lamborghini Asia-Pacific. He had been treated with respect, welcomed as a partner, invited to Hong Kong.
It was real. All of it.
He shut the laptop carefully, slid it into his bag, and picked up the coffee cup, finishing the cold drink in one gulp. His hands still trembled slightly, but his eyes gleamed with a determination he had never felt before.
As he stepped out of the café into the afternoon sun, the world felt different. The air seemed sharper, the street louder, every sound alive.
He wasn't just Lin Hao, the broke graduate in a cracked apartment anymore.
He was Lin Hao, shareholder of Lamborghini.