Lin Qingfeng sat in the main seat, the tea in his hand long since gone cold.
He stared at the translucent interface that had popped up before him, mentally cursing the system's eighteen generations of ancestors.
'What the hell is this?'
That chief steward had painted such a grandiose, moving picture that he nearly brought himself to tears.
But to Lin Qingfeng's ears, it could all be translated into a single sentence.
Hand over your family's treasure to be the main attraction at our "Nabo Garden." As for who it belongs to after this or whether you'll ever get it back—well, this is all for a grand literary event and the enlightenment of the common people. A mere commoner like you shouldn't ask so many questions.
Wasn't this just blatant robbery? And they even insisted on erecting a monument to your supposed generosity.
'Do I even need to choose between these two options?'
The first option was basically the same as writing "I'm a sucker" across his forehead.
