Brother, just how powerful is our family?

Seeing the young master's disappointed expression, he patted him on the shoulder: "However, the construction of Paradise Island will be accelerated. It will be open in six months at the earliest, and a year at the latest. Tell your grandfather to hang in there, and I will definitely give him priority when the time comes."

This is already the maximum leniency possible.

Sun Shao's eyes reddened: "Thank you, Brother Yang! Thank you!"

The elevator has arrived.

Qin Yang stepped into the elevator, turned around and waved to everyone: "See you at the Huanyu Building in three days. Do your best then."

The elevator doors closed, shutting out those eager, expectant, and ingratiating gazes.

As the elevator descended, Qin Yang leaned against the wall and closed his eyes.

The hustle and bustle just now receded like the tide.

He recalled his brother Qin Feng's words: "A-Yang, this world is very realistic. When you are useful, everyone revolves around you; when you are useless, everyone abandons you."

"Therefore, never be fooled by superficial flattery. Know who you are and stick to your principles."

He knew his brother was right.

The reason these people are so respectful to him today is not because Qin Yang is so powerful, but because he has an older brother named Qin Feng.

If he weren't Qin Feng's younger brother, these people wouldn't even give him a second glance.

Therefore, he cannot be arrogant, reckless, or lose himself in the moment.

What he needs to do is to assist his brother in building the Yanhuang civilization.

On the stage of Paradise Island, showcase your value.

Instead of relying on his brother's legacy and becoming a spoiled brat who only knows how to eat, drink, and have fun.

The elevator takes you to the underground parking garage.

The door opened, and several guards were already waiting.

"Mr. Qin, the car is ready."

Qin Yang nodded and walked towards the black Maybach.

Before getting into the car, he glanced back at the direction of the elevator.

There, those rich kids are probably still talking about him, still planning how to curry favor with him, and still fantasizing about getting immigration status or genetically modified fluid through him.

He smiled and got into the car.

The car drove out of the garage and merged into the traffic of Shanghai late at night.

Three days later, on April 26th.

In Shanghai, the morning air was still a bit chilly, but the area around the World Trade Center was already bustling with activity.

This building, which was once just one of many office buildings in Shanghai, has now become a gateway of hope for countless people.

Outside the building, dozens of queues stretched like a long, winding dragon.

Extending out from various entrances, it turns several corners on the street and disappears into the distance.

People in the group were either standing or sitting; some were holding breakfast, some were flipping through documents, and many more were chatting quietly in twos and threes.

"Old Wang, how exactly does this interview process work?" A middle-aged man in a gray jacket pushed up his glasses and asked his friend, "I heard it's being conducted simultaneously across the country. How many people are involved?"

The man called Lao Wang was probably in his early forties, with dark skin, as if he worked outdoors all year round.

He pulled out a pack of cigarettes, then put it back as if remembering something. "Engineer Li, I can't say for sure. But the announcement says it mainly looks at character, quality, and personality; intelligence isn't really a requirement. Isn't that strange?"

"Not surprising," a young woman wearing glasses interjected. "Didn't you read the official statement from the Yanhuang Civilization? After immigrating to the Yanhuang Civilization, everyone undergoes three rounds of genetic optimization, significantly improving their physical fitness and intelligence. So, current intelligence level isn't important; what matters is character."

People at the front and back of the line turned around.

"The young lady is right." An elderly man with gray hair spoke slowly, leaning on a cane but sitting upright. "What Mr. Qin wants to build is a completely new civilization. The core of a civilization is not technology, but people. The kind of people determine the kind of civilization."

"The old man is right," a man in his thirties nodded. "But I'm just curious, how are these qualities and character judged? Is it just a matter of the interviewer asking a few questions?"

"It's not that simple." A businessman in a suit shook his head. "I studied the technological capabilities of the Universal Group yesterday. They've even built interstellar warships and have gene optimization fluid. Judging a person's character probably involves methods we can't even imagine."

The procession moved slowly forward.

The atmosphere was initially quite calm.

People whispered about their hopes for the future, sharing their experiences and stories.

Until a man and a woman appeared.

The man had dark skin, curly hair, and a tall stature. He was wearing a T-shirt with the Chinese character for "dragon" printed on it.

The woman, on the other hand, had a typical squinty-eyed makeup look, wore heavy makeup and revealing clothing, and clung tightly to the man's arm.

They cut straight into the middle of the line.

"Hey, why are you cutting in line?" a young man said, disgruntled.

The woman glanced at him sideways: "We've been here for a while. We were just using the restroom. What, is that a problem?"

"I was right here, I didn't see you at all," the young man insisted.

The woman sneered, "Who do you think you are? It's none of your business! Let me tell you, my boyfriend is a returned overseas student, a highly skilled individual. Can you ordinary people compare to him?"

A low murmur arose from the group.

The man seemed not to understand the language of the Dragon Kingdom, but he grinned, revealing a mouthful of white teeth, and said in broken pronunciation, "I love the Dragon Kingdom, I love the Dragon Kingdom culture."

The woman proudly raised her head: "Did you hear that? My boyfriend loves our country and culture so much. Even though he's a foreigner, his heart is already that of a Chinese."

The people around looked at each other in bewilderment.

A middle-aged woman couldn't help but speak up: "Young lady, the announcement clearly states that only descendants of Yan and Huang are eligible. Your boyfriend... is clearly not one of them."

"How can you not be?" The woman's voice suddenly rose. "What are the descendants of Yan and Huang? It's cultural identity! It's a sense of belonging! My boyfriend identifies with Chinese culture from the depths of his soul; he is a descendant of Yan and Huang! What do you narrow-minded nationalists know?"

An uproar erupted in the crowd.

"What kind of twisted logic is that?"

"The announcement's reference to 'descendants of Yan and Huang' clearly refers to both bloodline and cultural identity, okay?"

"Exactly, she's just making excuses."

The man seemed to sense that something was wrong, and said in his broken Mandarin, "I am also a descendant of Yan and Huang, a descendant of the dragon."

That's like sprinkling salt into a pan of oil.

"Say that again?" A burly man squeezed through the back of the line. He was easily 1.85 meters tall and muscular. "You're a descendant of the dragon? Look in the mirror, do you even deserve that title?"

The woman immediately stepped in front of the man: "What do you think you're doing? Let me tell you, hitting a foreigner is a serious crime! You dare touch him and see what happens!"

The burly man's face flushed with anger: "I'm defending our culture and bloodline! You're insulting the words 'Descendants of Yan and Huang'!"