****
The crowd fell silent.
No one dared mock Lin Fan anymore.
A Black Card in his hand was proof he wasn't just some nobody.
And so young!
Was he a scion of some elite family?
How else could someone his age hold such a card?
People's minds raced, and many suddenly wanted to cozy up to Lin Fan. The same crowd that had mocked him now turned their scorn on Wang Shan.
"Heh, Wang Shan's got some nerve. Sure, his company's struggling, but picking fights and slandering people? Low blow."
"Exactly! A Black Card? This guy's loaded. No way he can't afford a car."
"Bet he rode that bike to cut carbon emissions. What a role model for today's youth!"
"The more I look at him, the more I like this guy!"
Lin Fan's mouth twitched at the 180-degree shift in their tone.
Money really was king in this world.
The hypocrisy was almost comical.
Wang Shan and his girlfriend seethed, their pride battered, but they couldn't muster a single comeback. The Black Card in Lin Fan's hand shut them up cold.
Lin Fan waved the card, smirking at the couple. "Still think I don't belong here?"
Their faces twisted, lips sealed, unable to squeak out a word.
Shame. Embarrassment.
They wanted to disappear into the ground.
Without another word, they slunk away, heads bowed.
Manager Zhang hurried forward, bowing deeply. "Sir, I misjudged you earlier. My apologies."
"Hand me your card, and I'll process your membership right away."
He took the Black Card and scurried off to handle it personally.
Lin Fan chuckled. These people flipped faces faster than a street performer. What a waste of talent not doing theater.
He strolled through the car show, unimpeded. Several attendees approached, offering greetings and contact info. Lin Fan accepted them all.
Sure, he didn't care for their opportunism, but some were wealthy. If he wanted to make money later, these connections could come in handy.
Within ten minutes, Manager Zhang returned, beaming, with Lin Fan's bank card and a new one—sleek, black, but less ornate than the Qianye Bank Black Card.
Handing it over with both hands, Zhang said respectfully, "Mr. Lin, with this car show Black Card, you can come and go freely."
"Plus, you get an 80% discount on any car purchase."
The membership wasn't just for sales—it was about networking. An 80% discount would mean losses otherwise.
Lin Fan pocketed the card, nodded, and kept browsing.
Each luxury car had a model posing beside it, drawing eyes like magnets.
Then, a commotion caught his attention near a Lamborghini Huracan.
A bald, potbellied man with a greasy face and a thick gold chain was harassing a model. He'd taken a liking to the car—and her.
"I'll buy this car if you spend the night with me," he boasted loudly.
This kind of thing was an open secret at events like this. Common, even.
But the model refused, and the man's face darkened. He reached out, groping her.
"You little bitch, you should be grateful I'm interested! If I buy this car, think of the commission you'd get!"
"Now you're playing pure? Drop the act!"
"I've changed my mind—I don't even want the car. I just want *you*."
His three gold teeth gleamed, screaming nouveau riche.
Two bodyguards flanked him. At his signal, they moved to grab the model.
She was young, barely over twenty, with a pure, flawless face and a sharp ponytail that gave her a capable air. If Xiao Rou was the girl-next-door, this model was a mix of mature beauty and playful charm.
Her face paled with fear as she pressed against the Lamborghini, eyes wide with panic. She looked to the crowd for help, but no one stepped up.
They just watched, cold and detached.
Despair washed over her. She was only here to earn extra money for her family. Was she doomed to be violated by this creep?
Just as hope faded, a sharp voice cut through.
"Stop!"
Lin Fan strode over, Manager Zhang trailing behind.
The bald man, Li Jie, frowned, glaring at Lin Fan. "Kid, mind your own business."
Manager Zhang whispered, "Mr. Lin, that's a nouveau riche. His family just struck gold—literally. Best not to get involved."
But Lin Fan ignored him, tilting his head with a defiant smirk. "What if I *want* to get involved?"
He wasn't some bleeding-heart hero, but he couldn't just stand by. He'd been desperate once, alone after the orphanage. If Uncle Zhou hadn't helped him, he might not have survived.
He believed the world still had good people. And since he'd stumbled into this, he wasn't walking away.
Li Jie raised an eyebrow, lit a cigarette, and blew a cloud of smoke. With a sneer, he waved a hand.
*Whoosh!*
His two bodyguards charged at Lin Fan without warning.
Li Jie's smirk was cold. *Playing hero? Who do you think you are, kid? No woman I want gets away.*
The bodyguards, professional and smug, were confident. Taking down a pretty boy like Lin Fan? Child's play.
But they were wrong.
Lin Fan didn't back down—he surged forward. In their stunned gazes, he unleashed a single slap.
Head tilted, fearless.
One slap, and they'd bow.
*Slap! Slap!*
Two sharp cracks rang out. Teeth shattered, sour spit flew, and the bodyguards spun through the air before crashing to the ground.
They lay still, eyes rolled back, out cold.
One slap each.
The crowd froze.
Silence swallowed the scene.