Three days later. Pangu 7 Star Hotel.
Tonight, the entire hotel was booked by the Zhao Family. Luxury cars filled the parking lot, and the red carpet was crowded with celebrities, business tycoons, and high-ranking officials. They all gathered here for one purpose: to celebrate the 70th birthday of Zhao Weiguo, the patriarch of the Zhao Family.
In the center of the banquet hall, the main table was the focus of everyone's attention.
Zhao Weiguo sat there, wearing a festive dark red Tang suit. Despite being seventy, he had a head of black hair and a rosy complexion. He looked energetic, even younger than his fifty-year-old son sitting next to him.
"Happy Birthday, Elder Zhao! May you live as long as the mountains!" "Elder Zhao looks amazing! You look like you're in your forties!"
The guests lined up to offer toasts, their flattering words filling the air.
Zhao Weiguo raised his wine glass, smiling broadly. Only he knew the secret. The heart beating powerfully in his chest—the "Seven-Orifice Mystical Heart" he bought for 500 million—had given him a second youth.
As long as this heart beats, I am immortal, he thought arrogantly.
"Next, the gift presentation!" The master of ceremonies announced.
"CEO Wang presents a pair of jade ruyis from the Ming Dynasty!" "Director Li presents a painting by Zhang Daqian!"
Priceless treasures piled up like a mountain. Zhao Weiguo's vanity was satisfied to the extreme.
Creak—
Suddenly, the heavy golden doors of the banquet hall were pushed open.
A young man walked in. He wore a simple, unadorned white robe and traditional cloth shoes. In his hands, he carried a square box covered with a red cloth.
He walked alone, yet his presence was so overwhelming that the noisy crowd instinctively parted to make a path for him.
"Who is that?" "I've never seen him. Which family is he from?"
Jiang Daolin ignored the whispers. He walked straight to the main table.
"Who are you?" The Zhao Family's head butler frowned and stepped forward. "Where is your invitation?"
Jiang Daolin pulled out the invitation the rotting man had given him and tossed it casually to the butler. He didn't stop walking.
"I heard Elder Zhao is celebrating his 70th birthday. As a junior, I prepared a 'humble gift' to wish him... peace."
Jiang Daolin placed the box on the gift table, right in front of Zhao Weiguo.
Zhao Weiguo stared at the young man. For some reason, his new heart skipped a beat. The young man's eyes were too cold, like looking into a grave.
"Young man, you are thoughtful," Zhao Weiguo forced a smile, suppressing his unease. "What did you bring?"
"Something to help you sleep," Jiang Daolin smiled. A strange, eerie smile.
He reached out and pulled the red cloth away.
Whoosh!
The hall went dead silent.
It wasn't jade. It wasn't gold. It was a Black Paper Coffin.
It was small, palm-sized, but exquisitely crafted. On the lid, written in blood-red cinnabar, was Zhao Weiguo's birth date and a giant character: [Obituary].
Giving a coffin at a birthday party. This was the ultimate curse. An unforgivable insult.
"You...!"
The silence broke. The crowd exploded.
"Is he crazy?!" "How dare he curse Elder Zhao!" "Security! Beat him to death!"
Zhao Weiguo's face turned from red to purple. He slammed his hand on the table, shaking with rage. "Bastard! You are courting death! Kill him! Chop him up and feed him to the dogs!"
Whoosh! Whoosh!
Dozens of Zhao Family bodyguards rushed forward, brandishing electric batons, aiming to smash Jiang Daolin's head.
Jiang Daolin stood still. He looked at the furious old man and spoke softly.
"Don't get angry, Elder Zhao."
"Anger hurts the liver. But it hurts... the heart even more."
Thud! Thud!
Before the bodyguards could touch him, they flew backward as if hit by an invisible wall, crashing into the banquet tables.
Jiang Daolin took a step forward. Ghost Step. He vanished and reappeared instantly right in front of Zhao Weiguo, less than a foot away.
"You... what do you want?!" Zhao Weiguo collapsed into his chair, clutching his chest, gasping for air.
Jiang Daolin looked down at him, his gaze piercing through the old man's chest.
"Tell me, Elder Zhao. Have you been sleeping well for the past three months?"
Jiang Daolin's voice wasn't loud, but it echoed in everyone's ears like a ghost's whisper.
"Do you feel a sharp pain in your chest every night at midnight?" "Do you dream of a little girl, covered in blood, standing by your bed, asking you... to give her heart back?"
Zhao Weiguo's pupils constricted to pinpoints. His face turned pale as a sheet.
"How... how do you know?!"
This was his deepest secret! No one knew except the doctor who died on the ship!
"Because that heart recognizes its master."
Jiang Daolin extended a finger and gently tapped Zhao Weiguo's chest.
"The owner of this heart was an eight-year-old girl. She was born with spiritual energy, but you carved her open." "Her resentment is locked inside this heart." "You didn't buy immortality. You bought a death warrant."
Jiang Daolin's finger pressed down slightly.
"AHHHH!!!"
Zhao Weiguo suddenly let out a blood-curdling scream.
Under the horrified gaze of hundreds of guests, blood began to seep through his silk shirt. Then, beneath his youthful skin, lumps began to form and wriggle.
Corpse Spots.
In seconds, his rosy face withered. His black hair turned white and fell out. He aged thirty years in a blink of an eye, turning into a shriveled, terrifying skeleton-like figure.
"Help me... It hurts..." Zhao Weiguo rolled on the floor, clawing at his chest.
The guests screamed and backed away. No one dared to help.
Jiang Daolin picked up the paper coffin and placed it gently next to the old man's head.
"Keep this coffin. You'll need it soon."
He raised three fingers, scanning the room, looking at the terrified faces of Beijing's elite.
"Three days."
"I want the full list of everyone who participated in the 'Longevity Auction' on that ship." "If I don't get a name, I send a coffin." "Until... I bury you all."
Jiang Daolin flicked his sleeves and turned to leave. The hundreds of bodyguards held their batons, trembling, watching him walk out. Not a single person dared to stop him.
Tonight, the sky of Beijing had changed.