Reversing Falsehood and Preserving Truth: All Gods and Gods Are in My Hands

The midday sun on Sunday was blazing, yet it seemed to be kept out by the lush greenery and bustling atmosphere of the Xishan area in the western suburbs of Zhongzhou City.

The taxi wound its way up the mountain road, with lush trees on both sides, leaving the hustle and bustle of the world far behind, leaving only the dull sound of wheels rolling over the road.

Upon reaching a wide open platform halfway up the mountain, a huge black wrought iron gate blocked the way.

Through the gaps in the wrought iron patterns, one can vaguely see a meticulously manicured European-style garden behind the door. However, the gilded Cupid sculpture and the giant fountain that flashes colorful neon day and night are completely out of place with the elegance that a garden should have, blatantly displaying the owner's wealth.

"This is Zhao Lei's parents' house? It's so... flashy."

Su Wan frowned subconsciously, her spiritual power allowing her to vaguely sense the restless and competitive atmosphere permeating the air.

Lu Yu weighed the purple clay tea canister in his hand and said calmly, "It's completely different from what my dad described during the old factory era."

The gatekeeper had clearly been notified beforehand. After verifying the identities of Lu Yu and his companions, the heavy iron gate slowly slid open. The car drove into the manor, and along the way, there were many well-dressed guests. Most of the men were in suits and ties, while the women were adorned with jewelry. They gathered in twos and threes, chatting and laughing. The air was filled with perfume, cigars, and a subtle, almost imperceptible, atmosphere of insincere socializing. Their conversations revolved around "projects," "assets," and "connections," as if this birthday banquet were merely a high-end social arena for fame and fortune.

Zhao Lei was already waiting in front of the grand archway of the main house. His ill-fitting suit made him look particularly awkward, and his tie was crooked. He was pacing back and forth anxiously, his brows full of urgency and embarrassment.

As soon as Lu Yu and the other two got out of the car, he immediately strode over to them, speaking in a low voice at a rapid pace: "Brother Yu, Chen Mo, Su Wan, you've finally arrived! My relatives insisted on showing off at the birthday banquet, so a lot of people who are completely unrelated to me came. Please don't mind them, just stick close to me..."

Before he could finish speaking, a shrill female voice interrupted, laced with undisguised sarcasm: "Oh, Xiao Lei, these are the classmates you keep talking about?"

The visitor was Zhao Lei's aunt, Zhao Liping, in her forties. She wore a tight-fitting, bright purple dress, the hem so taut it accentuated her flabby flesh. Her neck, wrists, and fingers were adorned with a profusion of jewelry—diamonds, jade, and rubies piled together, dazzling in the sunlight, as if she were wearing a jewelry store directly on her body. She ran a small jewelry company and valued appearances and prestige above all else.

Her shrewd eyes swept over Lu Yu, Chen Mo, and Su Wan like searchlights, lingering for a moment on their ordinary casual clothes and the rather plain purple clay teapot in Lu Yu's hand, a mocking smile curving her lips.

"Hey Xiaolei, it's your grandfather's 80th birthday, such an important occasion, and your classmates just showed up empty-handed to freeload? Even if you didn't bring expensive gifts, you should at least have given something, right? Are students these days so shameless?"

Zhao Liping's voice was neither too loud nor too soft, just loud enough for the surrounding guests to hear, attracting a few curious or scrutinizing glances.

Zhao Lei's face flushed instantly, and he hurriedly explained, "Aunt! They are guests I invited! And Lu Yu brought..."

"What did you bring? Tea from a roadside stall?" Zhao Liping scoffed, interrupting him. "Xiao Lei, it's not that I'm criticizing you, but you need to be selective about who you befriend. Don't bring just anyone home; it lowers the Zhao family's standards. Look at the gift I brought for your grandfather—an old mine, icy jadeite Buddha pendant."

Just then, a young man in an expensive suit with slicked-back hair strolled over. He was Zhao Lei's cousin, Zhao Xin, who had just returned from a dubious overseas university. With one hand in his pocket, he chimed in what he thought was a very sophisticated tone, "You're right. These days, poor students are all about sucking up to powerful figures. Lei, you're too naive; don't let yourself be used and end up counting money for someone else."

He deliberately raised the Patek Philippe watch on his left wrist, its dial gleaming in the sunlight, his tone tinged with ostentation: "For an occasion like this, even if you don't give a luxury watch or jewelry, you should at least prepare something presentable. Just showing up like this is really not very classy."

The whispers around them grew louder, and many guests wore expressions of amusement. Zhao Lei clenched his fists in anger, but hesitated to lash out due to the occasion; a vein throbbed on his forehead.

He even looked at Chen Mo provocatively and sneered, "When I was managing multi-million dollar projects overseas, you guys probably couldn't even afford taxi fare to school, right? Look, this one of my watches is enough for you to earn for a lifetime!"

Just as the awkward atmosphere was about to freeze, Chen Mo pushed up his glasses, his gaze behind the lenses calm and unwavering, as if those harsh words from before were nothing more than the buzzing of mosquitoes.

He turned to Zhao Xin, his tone calm as if stating a fact, yet his volume was just enough to drown out the surrounding chatter:

"Mr. Zhao, the Patek Philippe Ref. 5002P on your left wrist has an official price of over ten million, featuring an astronomical tourbillon and moon phase function. However, there are three minor discrepancies between the constellation arrangement on the moon phase dial and the genuine product. The spacing between the three stars of the Orion belt is 0.3 mm narrower than the genuine product, and the curvature of the handle of the Big Dipper is off by 2 degrees. These are common mold errors when small domestic factories produce replicas."

He paused, and before Zhao Xin could refute, continued, "More importantly, the anti-counterfeiting stamp on the inside of the case has rough edges, while the genuine product uses laser micro-engraving, resulting in smooth, burr-free edges; the screw on your wrist clasp is M2.5, while the genuine product comes standard with a custom-made M2.3 special screw. In addition, the movement's sound is slightly noisy, while the genuine product's Cal.8900 movement has a sound like velvet rubbing, with absolutely no such metallic resonance noise."

These words, like precise surgical scalpels, instantly dissected Zhao Xin's facade. The smile on Zhao Xin's face froze instantly, and he instinctively clutched his wrist, his eyes darting around like a startled rabbit: "What nonsense are you spouting! This is an authentic product I had someone buy for me from Switzerland! I have the invoice!"

"Whether it's genuine or not, you can have the movement serial number and sales record verified at the brand's after-sales service center in three minutes." Chen Mo remained unmoved, then abruptly changed the subject, "By the way, the overseas new energy project you invested in announced its funding chain broke three months ago, and the founder absconded with the funds. As a minority shareholder, you're still being pursued by overseas funds for a debt of 20 million, aren't you?"

A fleeting, golden line of insight flashed in his eyes: "The dark circles under your eyes and the white marks on your knuckles are signs of long-term anxiety and insomnia; the fact that you unconsciously rubbed your watch just now is because you've invested all your funds in this project. This fake watch is your last bit of dignity."

Upon hearing this, the entire room fell silent.

Zhao Xin's smugness instantly turned to deathly pale, then to ashen, and he stood frozen in place, his lips trembling but unable to utter a single word in rebuttal.

The surrounding guests' gazes completely changed, from watching the spectacle to undisguised contempt and amusement. It turned out that this "overseas returnee elite" not only wore a fake watch but was also a down-on-his-luck individual who had failed in his investments.

Zhao Liping hadn't expected that a single sentence from the other party would expose her nephew's true colors. Feeling somewhat embarrassed, she glared at Chen Mo with feigned bravado, "What nonsense are you spouting, you poor student!"

Chen Mo simply nodded slightly and said no more.

Lu Yu remained calm throughout, as if the surrounding turmoil was irrelevant to him. He stepped forward and handed the purple clay tea canister to Zhao Lei, speaking gently: "Zhao Lei, this is a small token of my father's appreciation, to celebrate Grandpa Zhao's birthday. The gift doesn't need to be expensive; it's the sentiment and thought that matters. Your father will understand at a glance."

"Hmph, that's easy for you to say, it's just cheap stuff from a street stall." Zhao Liping glanced at the jar with its unadorned packaging, snorted, and became even more disdainful.

Su Wan stood beside Lu Yu, her spiritual power quietly circulating, clearly sensing the anxiety surging within Zhao Liping's heart:

Her jewelry business has been facing a cash crunch lately, and she's been relying on loans from Zhao Zhenhong to keep things running. She dressed up in a glamorous and extravagant outfit for her birthday banquet in order to impress her guests and at the same time test the extent of Zhao Zhenhong's future support.

What bothered her even more was the aged aura emanating from the depths of the manor, aura mixed with weariness and worry, completely out of place with the festive atmosphere of a birthday banquet. That must be Zhao Lei's grandfather.

"Dad! Lu Yu and the others are here!" Zhao Lei called out as he turned around, carrying Lu Yu's tea leaves.

Zhao Zhenhong strode out of the living room, wearing a well-tailored dark suit, looking even more refined than in the magazine.

He saw the purple clay teapot in Zhao Lei's hand, quickly stepped forward to take it, and traced the words "Close Friend" with his fingertips, his tone filled with emotion: "This tea..."