The moonlight spilled across the sprawling Wang family villa like liquid silver, reflecting off the marble pillars and gilded ornaments. Inside the lavish porch, crystal chandeliers bathed the evening gathering in warm light. Laughter and clinking glasses echoed faintly as the heirs of two of the city's most powerful families sat together—Xu Jian and Wang Yichen, red wine swirling in their hands.
For them, tonight was a celebration.
A celebration of sabotage.
Xu Jian leaned back lazily, his eyes glimmering with arrogance."Brother Yichen, I still can't believe how smoothly everything worked out. Twin Tower without supplies is like a bird without wings. That Liang Chen brat probably doesn't even know where to cry right now."
Wang Yichen chuckled, raising his glass. "To think that fool actually believed he was untouchable. A single restaurant, no matter how fancy, can't survive once the supply chain is strangled." He took a sip, savoring the wine like victory itself. "Uncle Xu Tian, I must say, your strategy is brilliant. I never thought of cornering him that way."
Xu Jian nodded quickly, eyes shining with envy and admiration. "Yes, Uncle! If only you'd taught us earlier. That brat wouldn't have even risen. We could've crushed him at the start."
Across the table, Xu Tian and Wang Jiang—two seasoned veterans of the business world—sat calmly, regarding the younger generation with a mixture of amusement and disdain.
"You little brats," Wang Jiang snorted, swirling his glass. "You think these things are so easy? Do you think anyone can pull off what we did? You can't even begin to understand the weight of influence."
Xu Tian chuckled softly, voice low and steady. "Calm down, Wang Jiang. They're young. They don't understand us adults yet."
But Wang Jiang leaned forward, eyes sharp. "Exactly. They don't understand. And if we don't spell it out for them, they'll keep thinking power is just money and arrogance. Listen carefully, boys—this world doesn't bow to reckless pride. It bows to experience, to connections, to the kind of influence that takes decades to forge."
Xu Jian shifted uncomfortably. Wang Yichen furrowed his brows.
Xu Tian finally spoke, his voice carrying a calm authority that silenced the porch. "Do you know why the suppliers cut Liang off? Was it because you told them to?"
"Of course," Xu Jian replied quickly. "They listened to us."
Xu Tian's lips curled into a cold smile. "Wrong. They didn't listen to you. They listened to the Xu and Wang families. They listened to influence. They remembered the years of deals, the fortunes we've made together, the favors exchanged. They know our families are established powers, capable of protecting them or destroying them. That's why they obeyed. If it were just you, they'd laugh in your face. But with our name behind you? They obey without question."
The realization hit the younger heirs, their pride deflating slightly.
Wang Yichen frowned. "But then… why compensate Liang Chen? Isn't that just giving him free money?"
Wang Jiang's laughter boomed, cold and mocking. "That's where your immaturity shows. Compensation is part of the trap. Yes, we hand him a small pile of gold now, but it won't matter when his reputation collapses. What good is money to a man whose empire is crumbling?"
Xu Tian leaned forward, eyes gleaming. "Think about it. A restaurant survives on food. Without supplies, what will he serve? His reputation will rot. Customers will leave. His chefs and waiters—his so-called loyal staff—will demand salaries, but with falling revenue, how long can he pay them? They'll abandon him for better opportunities. Piece by piece, his tower will collapse. When he's drowning in debts, desperate to survive, he'll be forced to sell. And who will buy the Twin Towers for pennies on the dollar?"
Both Xu Jian and Wang Yichen sat straighter, excitement flickering in their eyes.
"We will," Xu Jian breathed.
"Exactly," Xu Tian said with a satisfied smile. "We'll reclaim everything he built. And he'll have no one to blame but himself."
The group erupted in laughter, their arrogance filling the night air. To them, the victory was already written.
But far away, within the darkened office of the Twin Tower, a different scene was unfolding.
The grand dining halls, once bustling with laughter and clinking glasses, now lay empty. The announcement of "temporary remodeling" had been pinned on the gates, a thin veil to mask the crisis. The city whispered of troubles, some even smirked, believing Liang Chen's meteoric rise had finally hit its ceiling.
Inside, however, Liang Chen sat alone, his expression calm, almost serene. A faint smile touched his lips as he stared out the window at the city skyline.
They think they've cornered me. Xu, Wang… piranhas circling a shark. But I am no shark.
He clenched his fist slowly.
I am a dragon. And dragons are not bound by lakes. They fly above it.
The compensation money had already been secured, but Liang knew it was a temporary cushion. The real threat was the supply chain. Without decisive action, the Xu and Wang families' scheme could indeed rot Twin Tower from the inside.
So Liang made his move.
The next week, while the world thought Twin Tower was crumbling, Liang was already in negotiations across neighboring cities. Food-i-Way, OdooCab, and ExpressCart became his spearheads. With his influence rising in the local economy, government officials welcomed him warmly. They saw him not just as a restaurateur but as a visionary bringing commerce, employment, and innovation to their regions.
Permits were signed faster than ever, doors opened wide, and goverment official welcome him. With their support Liang quickly expanded the three business. And then Liang launched his boldest initiative yet—an independent supply chain, all thanks to network with officals he made.
Direct partnerships were forged with farmers and producers. Fresh vegetables from local farmlands, seafood straight from coastal harbors, spices sourced directly from regional growers. No middlemen, no weak links. It was supply at its purest, freshest, and most secure.
The first deliveries arrived within weeks—trucks carrying crates bursting with colors of the earth's bounty. Liang watched silently as his chefs unloaded the produce, their eyes lighting up at the quality.
But that wasn't all. Liang wasn't content with simply recovering. He wanted transformation.
"While the doors remain closed, you will not sit idle," Liang told his staff. His voice was steady, but it carried the weight of command. "The Twin Towers will not just reopen as it was. When we return, we will be reborn. We will not serve food alone—we will serve the world."
His chefs bowed their heads, determination burning in their eyes. From that day on, the kitchens became battlefields of flavor.
They practiced relentlessly, perfecting French croissants that flaked at a touch, Italian pizzas baked in authentic woodfire ovens, Thai curries simmering with spice, Indian naan breads puffed to perfection, Japanese sushi rolled with elegant precision. They studied, experimented, failed, and tried again—until each dish sang with authenticity.
The Twin Towers were silent from the outside, but inside, the fires of creation roared.
A month later, the grand reopening arrived.
The city buzzed with rumors. Some predicted the restaurant would fade into irrelevance. Others were curious, intrigued by the sudden "remodeling." But when the doors opened, gasps filled the air.
The Twin Towers stood transformed—polished, radiant, alive. The courtyards now bloomed with gardens, the interiors redesigned with elegance, and the kitchens… the kitchens were temples of cuisine.
The first night, businessmen and socialites streamed in, curious. By the end of the evening, word had already spread: The Twin Towers had become a world in itself.
French dignitaries praised the authenticity of the pastries. Japanese executives nodded in satisfaction at the sushi. Indian travelers marveled at the curries, while Italian visitors wept with joy at the pasta. Local dishes, too, were perfected to a level unseen before, each plate a story of culture and tradition.
Twin Towers was no longer a restaurant. It was an international hub, a cultural embassy, and a networking paradise where deals of millions were struck over glasses of wine and steaming plates.
Liang Chen's empire was reborn, stronger than ever.
And then came the counterattack.
The Wang family, so confident in their clothing empire, relied heavily on supply chains stretching into the same neighboring cities Liang now had sway over. With a few words, a few favors, and subtle pressure through his allies, Liang ensured delays, disruptions, and silent refusals.
At first, the Wang family dismissed it as coincidence. But weeks later, losses piled up. Contracts were broken, shipments vanished, clients complained, and the brand began bleeding credibility.
Within a month, the Wang family faced existential crisis. Their once-proud empire teetered, mocked by the same city that once praised them.
And Liang? He didn't gloat. He didn't need to. His silence was louder than their downfall.
The Xu family, however, remained untouched—for now. Their jewelry business was entrenched, their foundations stronger, their claws deeper into the city's veins. To attack them recklessly would be foolish.
But as Liang stood atop the Twin Towers balcony one evening, gazing at the horizon, a faint smile tugged at his lips.
"The Wang family thought I was a shark. The Xu family still believes I am. But they're wrong."
His eyes burned with quiet fire.
"I am the dragon above this city. And even the hardest stone will crack beneath my flames."