Chapter 101

The heavy security door was pushed open, and lively music gradually drifted into their ears.

To prevent disturbing the neighbors, Gao Tian Yuan wasn't just an isolated venue—it used imported soundproofing foam.

Generally speaking, Gao Tian Yuan nightclub's main clientele were women.

To allow weary urban women—corporate CEOs, full-time housewives, white-collar OLs—to achieve mental relaxation, Gao Tian Yuan implemented a standardized service model, distinct from the vulgar, flashy male host bars outside.

In simple terms.

It was male companions who sold art, not bodies.

"It's really rather noisy," Especially Especially Especially Xiao Yan said.

Countless men and women swayed in the dance floor, the ground vibrating rhythmically.

"Indulging in pleasure, a wild celebration," Zhongli remarked. He'd seen such scenes on his phone; he felt neither fondness nor aversion, merely observing this world's form of entertainment.

"Uh…" Norton hesitated, "I'll make it clear—I'm not interested in male creatures."

"Relax, neither are we," Kein observed curiously around him as the waiter led them toward the circular sofas and booths. "We're just here for fun."

Su Lin and Kein exchanged a glance and shared a knowing smile.

"Ladies, please wait a moment."

To the waiter's eyes, they were merely a group of ordinary urban women—using illusion arts to conceal their true faces and genders.

"May I ask, Miss Princess, would you like…"

The young man responsible for in-house service was cut off mid-sentence.

"Grilled skewers, fried chicken, sushi, fried rice…"

The waiter had never seen anyone come to Gao Tian Yuan as if entering a restaurant. Though to enhance guest experience, even the chefs had been carefully selected, including several retired hotel chefs.

Every Princess who came here Must Be Respected—she was a customer, the star of tonight, so even if her style was eccentric, the waiter would say nothing.

"Five bottles of champagne, the best. No male companions needed for now."

"Understood. Please wait a moment, ladies."

Su Lin leaned back on the soft sofa, humming a Japanese song: "Luo Xiaoying, sakura, I want to see you~."

As a good friend, good boss, good group member, good admin, Su Lin had to show support for his staff and group members.

"What are Lu Mingze and Old Lu up to?" Su Lin asked. "They seem to have gathered tonight."

"They're discussing splitting the family assets. After lunch, they brought their own 'lawyers' and started negotiations."

"By the way, didn't you guys pay for your ramen at lunch? He called Lu Mingze to send someone to settle the bill," Especially Especially Especially Xiao Yan said, frowning at a figure in the center of the dance floor.

"I suggested using a historical projection to fake it, but he insisted on eating real food. What could I do?" Su Lin watched the main performer on stage, his expression grim—this scene was still too early for him.

To the beat of a samba, a massive man nearly two meters tall, weighing at least 100 kilograms, danced in the center of the stage wearing custom high heels size 47 or larger, clad in a tight, ultra-short skirt with a waistline over 1.5 meters, every movement making his bulk ripple like water.

"This one's even more significant!"

Especially Especially Especially Xiao Yan recalled the sumo wrestlers he'd seen in newspapers back in his past life—he never imagined such a man could become a male host.

"Demand creates supply," Zhongli said. "It's perfectly reasonable."

As the group chatted while waiting for drinks and food, a chorus of female shrieks drew their attention.

As the samba ended, a solitary classical melody automatically switched on.

Above the stage, cherry blossoms drifted down; the pentatonic notes of gong, shang, jiao, zheng, and yu formed the background, evoking a melancholy atmosphere.

A handsome man danced with a blade amid the falling petals, the sword moving with his body, advancing and retreating with precision—not mere showmanship, but genuine combat swordsmanship. Though such martial technique lacked visual flair, women occasionally screamed in excitement, drawn not by the technique but by the man's muscle definition as he swung the blade.

His lean, powerful frame had the sinewy, jointed grace of bamboo, perfectly embodying the lonely beauty of a young warrior.

"I feel like I've seen this guy before," Lao Tang tapped his head, thinking hard, but the memory was too vague—he must not be important, yet here he was, in this unfamiliar place.

"His name is Chu Zihang. He's Lu Mingfei's senior," Su Lin said. He'd seen Chu Zihang and Caesar at Genji Weight, and he'd seen their faces in Lu Mingfei's phone.

"Is he working a winter break job here?" Lao Tang frowned. "He came all the way from America."

"I'll bring you a copy of Dragon Clan in a couple days. Drink first."

Just then, the waiter arrived with the champagne.

A black-clad, masked waiter rolled a two-meter-long cutting board onto the stage, covered in ice, upon which lay a whole tuna.

Amid screams and shouts, Chu Zihang swung his long blade like a master butcher, slicing the fish into neat rectangular blocks—dark red back meat and pink belly meat separated and arranged in wooden compartments by cut.

A dish that could be eaten visually.

Of course, a few saw the artistry in the visual feast; the majority of guests here saw something else.

Before the performance ended, bidding had already begun—guests started bidding for Chu Zihang's hand-sliced sashimi.

"One million!" Su Lin shouted.

The staff gasped—this was the highest bid ever for tuna sashimi since the shop opened!

"This newcomer's incredible."

"The manager really found talent this time."

Su Lin directly bought the most expensive and finest cut—after all, someone else was footing the activity budget.

He didn't even need to pay, since the shop now belonged to Lu Mingze.

"Ogiwara! Ogiwara!" All the female guests cheered and screamed for Chu Zihang.

Then came the irrational fan spending—buying flower tickets.

"Hey, waiter," Su Lin called out the serving staff bringing dishes. "Do you have a male host named Xiao Yinghua?"

Su Lin planned that if Lu Mingfei ran away, he'd project Lu Mingfei's historical image onto the stage to dance samba under the new stage name—"Little Chrysanthemum."

Lu Mingfei, don't blame me—this is to ensure your fate with Hui Liyi remains untouched. Your Su brother has no choice.

"Yes, would you like to summon Xiao Yinghua?" The waiter's face lit up—this meant these guests weren't just here to skip performers; once they ordered a host, tonight's spending would soar.

But then he looked slightly embarrassed. "I'm sorry, guests, but Xiao Yinghua is fully booked tonight. He might be available later…"

"Perhaps you could…"

"No, thanks."

Su Lin waved his hand, declining the waiter's recommendation.

"Let's wait for our little Luo Xiaoying for a bit, eat something first."

(End of chapter)