Sweden, senior hotel suite. Five people—three men and two women—sat scattered around the room. The atmosphere was heavy. Everyone was occupied with their own thoughts.
Two women sat opposite each other. One wore a white turtleneck sweater, quietly flipping through a magazine. She looked like a snow lotus—pure, cold, and aloof. The other wore a deep V-cut black dress, exposing a large area of fair skin, her red lips matching the wine glass in her hand. She exuded an alluring, sultry charm.
Though they didn't speak, the tension between them was obvious. An invisible, tit-for-tat aura filled the space.
Of the three men, one sat on the couch reading Home on the Ruins, his expression unreadable. The other two stood by the window, one lean and wiry, the other muscular—an odd contrast.
No one spoke. It was clear they were waiting for something.
"When do you think our homeland will enjoy this kind of peace?" the lean man by the window suddenly asked, breaking the oppressive silence.
The room stirred slightly. The other four glanced at him, then returned to what they were doing as if nothing had happened.
Hu Hanzi put down his book and thought for a moment, his tone serious."When death comes."
His response dragged the mood down once more.
"Enough with the pointless talk. Who's our target this time?" the muscular man asked, lighting a cigar.
"Most likely the Chinese man," the lean one replied.
"My instincts say otherwise," said the woman in the turtleneck, setting down her magazine.
Everyone else paused. Bai Di's instincts were rarely wrong. But if the target wasn't the Chinese person, who else would the organization go so far for—risking exposure to send their elite?
"I bet it's the Chinese," said the woman in the black dress.
"What are we betting?" Bai Di asked calmly.
"Loser goes first," the sultry woman replied with a smile.
"You've lost so many times your pink's turned purple," Bai Di said flatly.
The three men twitched at the comment, eyes shifting uncomfortably. They pretended not to hear, going back to their business—smoking, reading, avoiding eye contact.
Once again, tension between the two women filled the room.
Moments later, a knock sounded at the door. Instantly, all five sat up, alert. The previously dull atmosphere snapped into taut readiness, like a stretched string on the verge of snapping.
Click.
The door opened. A man in a blue-striped suit entered, and the suffocating pressure immediately eased.
Lirik scanned the room briefly to confirm everyone was present. Without a word, he pulled five folders from his briefcase and tossed them onto the table.
"This is the target for this mission," he said in his usual hoarse voice—like sandpaper scraping concrete. It made people's skin crawl, but the five were used to it.
They picked up the documents, eyes flashing with surprise—not because of the identity of the target, but because it wasn't who they had expected.
"This old man? Not the Chinese?" Aisha licked her red lips, shifting her body. The motion made the deep V neckline ripple, revealing snowy curves. She seemed disappointed.
The three men kept their expressions neutral and read the files carefully. Even the usually impassive Bai Di cracked a rare, subtle smile.
"Should we capture the Chinese too? He's got value—the organization would be interested," the lean man suggested.
Lirik gave a raspy laugh. If not for his smile, no one would even know he was laughing.
That laugh made the five instantly shut up.
From past experience, they knew when Lirik laughed like that, it meant trouble. Anyone who annoyed him rarely ended well.
"The Chinese? Even if we wanted to catch him, we couldn't. Don't be clever. No off-script moves. If you delay the organization's plans..." He paused and smiled coldly. "You know the consequences."
The five fell completely silent.
Seeing that his warning landed, Lirik got to the point. "Now, let's assign tasks. Who's going first?"
Bai Di smiled faintly. "Let her go."
Chen Mo stood by the hotel window, sipping a glass of water as he looked out over Stockholm.
They had arrived the day before.
Unlike Chinese cities, European ones lacked towering skyscrapers, preserving a more classical style. This was Chen Mo's first time abroad. He didn't feel particularly awed or disappointed. Just neutral.
Compared to cities back home, Stockholm felt less modern and more laid-back. People here didn't seem to rush anywhere.
Beside him stood Zhang Xinxin, the only person who came with him for the awards ceremony. His parents didn't speak English and weren't interested in traveling. Xiao Yu was pregnant, so she stayed home. Zhang Xinxin was the most suitable person to accompany him.
Today, she wore a blue dress, looking bright and elegant.
Soon after, Lanxi walked in, holding Chen Mo's formal wear.
Zhu He and Luo Yu, already in the room, gave her a slight nod before returning to their positions by the wall.
Lanxi didn't recognize them. She hadn't seen them before. But Chen Mo had explained that Zhu He and Luo Yu were temporary assistants and secretaries, there to help her and handle Chen Mo's logistical needs.
She was smart enough to understand their real identities and said no more.
To her knowledge, this was the first time Chen Mo had traveled abroad. Even for vacations, he stayed in the country. His wedding, one of the most important events of his life, had also been held locally.
"Boss, your tuxedo."
"Thanks."
Chen Mo put down his glass and took the formalwear into the bedroom.
They had rehearsed the day before. Each Nobel laureate was allowed to invite friends and family. Chen Mo's parents didn't understand the language, and Xiao Yu was staying home to rest. So he made the trip alone.
Five minutes later, Chen Mo came out, now dressed in the tuxedo Lanxi had brought.
The formal dress code maintained Nordic tradition: black tailcoat, white bowtie, a style reminiscent of old aristocrats.
"Do I look like a penguin?" Chen Mo looked down at his outfit and joked.
Pfft!
Zhang Xinxin couldn't hold back her laugh. "Walk a few steps with your arms out—you'll really look like one."
Even the usually serious Lanxi and the assistants couldn't help smiling.
Chen Mo worked out regularly, and with the help of his potential development, his physique was excellent—balanced, with well-defined lines. In this tuxedo, he indeed had a gentlemanly air.
But now that he'd put the image of a penguin in everyone's mind, it was hard to unsee. If someone slightly overweight wore this outfit… the mental picture was priceless.
They didn't even want to imagine it.
"The ceremony starts at 4:30 p.m. There'll be 1,320 attendees, including nobles, celebrities, and political figures. The award ceremony will last about an hour and a half, followed by a dinner that goes for about four and a half hours. You'll have to give a speech during dinner, so don't forget your notes," Lanxi reminded him.
Now that Chen Mo was dressed and ready, Lanxi went over the day's schedule to ensure there were no slip-ups. After all, this was a major public event. His appearance wasn't just personal—it represented China and the image of Army Ant Corporation.
Just then, a staff member arrived to notify them.
"Mr. Chen Mo, the ceremony is about to begin. We're ready to escort you now."