Chapter 85: Class Reunion

Qin Feng's high-profile appearance was like a massive stone cast into a calm lake, its ripples spreading to every corner of society—naturally, including the circle he once knew but had long since drifted away from: his high school classmates.

In a class WeChat group of Nanzhou City No. 1 High School, Qin Feng's news had completely exploded.

"Oh my god! Did you all see the news? That Qin Feng… is he really our classmate Qin Feng?!" A female classmate named Sun Xiaomei immediately posted a news link, followed by a string of shocked emojis.

"It's definitely him! The photo looks more handsome and refined, but the facial structure is unmistakable! My god, he's become a billionaire?!"

"Qin Feng Pharmaceuticals… that's the one with the ads on TV all day? The founder's our classmate? I'm stunned!"

"I remember he was pretty low-key in high school, and his family didn't seem well-off—how did he suddenly become so powerful?"

"@Li Li, weren't you secretly in love with Qin Feng back then? Regret not making a move, huh? Haha!"

The girl called Li Li sent an eye-roll emoji: "Why bring up ancient history? But… honestly, who could have expected this?"

The group chat flooded with hundreds of messages—astonishment, envy, jealousy, nostalgia—all emotions intertwined. Eventually, the topic was steered in another direction by the former class monitor, Zhao Kun, now a minor official at a public institution.

"Classmates, since Qin Feng is now so… successful, and apparently still in this city, shouldn't we organize a class reunion? It's been years since we last got together; this is the perfect chance to reconnect—and to celebrate our class's pride," Zhao Kun's suggestion carried a faint hint of self-interest.

The proposal was immediately met with overwhelming support. Being connected to a newly risen billionaire—even just by showing up, making a face—might open unexpected opportunities in the future.

Thus, the responsibility of organizing the reunion fell to Zhao Kun and a few active members. The biggest challenge: how to invite Qin Feng. Eventually, they tracked down his mother's phone number, explained the situation carefully, and begged her to pass on the message.

After receiving the call, Qin Feng's mother, considering it was her son's classmates, casually mentioned it during a family dinner.

"Little Feng, your high school classmates want to hold a reunion—they reached out to me. Do you want to go?"

Qin Feng raised an eyebrow slightly. His high school years weren't particularly pleasant memories. Back then, his family was ordinary, and due to family upheavals, he'd been introverted—hardly social, except for a few close friends. The so-called classmate bonds had long faded with time and changing circumstances.

He was about to refuse outright, but then he thought: his status and position were no longer the same. Returning to take a look might hold a different meaning. Like wearing fine clothes at night—it lacks some joy. Occasionally experiencing the feeling of "returning home in glory" didn't sound bad? Besides, his current mindset was detached; he no longer cared for empty fame, treating it merely as a small interlude in observing the myriad spectacles of life.

"Have the time and place been set?" Qin Feng asked casually.

His mother, seeing he hadn't outright refused, replied: "It's supposed to be this weekend, at the Di Hao Hotel."

Di Hao Hotel? One of Nanzhou City's most upscale hotels. Clearly, the organizers had spared no expense—or rather, they were targeting him.

A faint, almost imperceptible smile curled at Qin Feng's lips: "Alright, I know. I'll see how things go."

He gave no clear yes or no, leaving Zhao Kun and the organizers anxious, prompting them to elevate the reunion's standards even further, determined to ensure absolute perfection.

On the weekend, the largest banquet room at Di Hao Hotel, "Emperor Hall," was lavishly decorated. A massive crystal chandelier refracted dazzling light; the air was filled with the scent of gourmet food and wine.

Classmates arrived early: the men mostly in suits, striving to appear mature and composed; the women in meticulously applied makeup and dresses designed to highlight their figures and elegance. Each face bore anticipation and a subtle tension; their conversation was louder than usual, eyes constantly flicking toward the door.

"Do you think Qin Feng will actually come?" "Probably… he will? Didn't the monitor say he got in touch?" "Ugh, I'm so nervous—it feels like meeting a national leader…" "Wang Hao, you used to get along with Qin Feng—you've got to help us out later!"

Wang Hao, one of Qin Feng's few high school friends who could still talk to him, was kind-hearted. He scratched his head and smiled, saying nothing. He'd been surprised to receive the invitation; for Qin Feng's current achievements, he felt only sincere admiration, with no thought of climbing aboard.

At that moment, the room's door was pushed open by a waiter.

Every eye instantly snapped toward the entrance; the chatter died instantly.

But it wasn't Qin Feng who entered—it was the monitor, Zhao Kun, beaming with excitement: "Classmates! I've got good news! Qin Feng just replied to me—he's on his way!"

"Whoa!"

A muffled chorus of gasps and murmurs erupted through the room; the atmosphere surged to a fever pitch. Everyone unconsciously adjusted their clothes and expressions.

A few minutes later, as anticipation peaked, the door opened again.

This time, Qin Feng's figure finally appeared.

He wasn't dressed in a tailored suit like at the Cosmos Charity Gala—only a simple yet exquisitely crafted dark casual outfit—but his calm, composed demeanor, coupled with the silent, sharp-eyed Lei Zhan trailing behind him like a shadow, instantly drowned out the room's forced "luxury" atmosphere.

He simply stood there, his gaze calmly sweeping the room. Everyone felt an invisible pressure; their rehearsed warm greetings stuck in their throats, some even hesitating to approach.

It was Zhao Kun, the monitor, who reacted first, his face plastered with enthusiastic, almost servile smiles as he hurried forward: "Qin Feng! Oh my, old classmate, you've finally arrived! We've all been waiting for you!"

The others snapped out of their daze and surged forward, all talking at once in greeting.

"Qin Feng, do you remember me? I'm…" "Qin Feng, you're our class's pride now!" "Director Qin, it's an honor to finally meet you!"

Facing these familiar or unfamiliar faces, all clearly driven by ulterior motives, Qin Feng maintained a faint smile, nodding politely to each—neither overly warm nor impolite.

His gaze passed over the crowd and landed on Wang Hao, standing in the corner, too shy to step forward. He walked over himself, clapped Wang Hao on the shoulder, and offered his first genuine smile of the evening: "Fatty, long time no see."

Wang Hao, stunned, grinned awkwardly: "Feng… Feng-ge, you're really amazing now!"

Seeing Qin Feng's attitude toward Wang Hao, the other classmates grew even more eager, scrambling for topics to engage him—offering drinks, handing out business cards, reminiscing about the past—the entire reunion had become Qin Feng's personal social stage.

Qin Feng handled it effortlessly. For every veiled plea for help or hint of collaboration, he neither clearly accepted nor outright refused—only brushed them off vaguely. Watching these former classmates before him, either timid or deliberately flattering, he felt no inner ripple—only a quiet wonder at the strangeness of life's turns.

What was meant to be a reunion to reconnect unfolded under a subtle, realistic atmosphere. Qin Feng, like a detached Observer, savored the unique drama of life brought forth by wealth and status.

He knew that after tonight, his image in these classmates' minds would be permanently fixed in the unreachable position of "Shenhou."

And that, precisely, was the effect he wanted.