I started by watching videos, and I chose 10,000 combat power.

Seeing Zhao Zixuan remain silent, the young man became even more arrogant.

He took another step closer, and as he spoke, ash from the cigarette in his mouth fell softly to Luo Fei's feet.

"What's wrong, Young Master Zhao? Don't you recognize me? Weren't you quite arrogant when my father and your father discussed the acquisition last time?"

Zhao Zixuan's face turned from pale to ashen.

His lips moved a few times, his voice extremely low: "Young Master Qian, this is a private party, I don't want to argue with you."

"Not enough money?" the man scoffed, his laughter sharp and grating.

"You call me 'Young Master Qian'? You used to call me 'Fatty Qian,' didn't you? What, now that the company is going downhill, your tone has softened?"

Luo Fei stood aside, silently watching the scene before him.

He looked at it for a few seconds, then asked a question.

"Fourth brother, do you know this idiot?"

Zhao Zixuan took a deep breath and replied, "His name is Qian Duo, and his family is in the building materials business. Several of our family's projects have run into problems recently, and it's all because of his father's sabotage."

Luo Fei nodded.

When Qian Duo heard Luo Fei call him an idiot, his face turned from white to red.

He pointed at Luo Fei, his finger almost poking the other's nose.

"Who the hell are you calling an idiot? Do you even know who I am? Who do you think you are, daring to talk back to me here—"

He couldn't finish his sentence; his fingers froze in mid-air, but his mind suddenly cleared a bit.

He remembered what this place was—the Heavenly Palace on the Clouds.

This is neither his living room nor a street food stall.

From the day it opened, the Heavenly Palace in the Clouds established a rule: no matter what conflict arises, fighting is absolutely forbidden here. Anyone who does fight will bear all the consequences.

Qian Duo pointed at Zhao Zixuan, a smug look returning to his face.

"So what if it's targeting your family? Business is all about ability. Your father's lack of competence, who can you blame?"

He pointed his index finger at Zhao Zixuan's face and poked it repeatedly.

"Let me tell you, that piece of land of yours will belong to my dad sooner or later. Your dad's lousy company should just liquidate and shut down, so it doesn't embarrass itself here."

Luo Fei's eyes turned cold as he looked at the dangling finger.

Qian Duo then noticed Luo Fei's expression.

He was stunned for a moment, then sneered, his smile laced with arrogance.

"What? You want to stand up for him? Do you know who I am? Do you even know where you are?"

He looked around.

Although there weren't many guests in the lobby, the few who were there were all watching this side: some were sitting on the sofa, some were standing next to the bar, and some had just come out of the elevator.

All eyes were drawn to this spot, their faces showing expressions of anticipation and excitement.

Someone whispered a few words into the ear of the person next to them, and that person chuckled softly after hearing it.

He suddenly remembered a story he had heard before: a few years ago, a nouveau riche, after drinking, beat up another customer in a private room while fighting over a woman. As a result, less than an hour later, the nouveau riche was "asked" to leave by the club staff.

A few days later, someone saw him on the street, lying on a small wooden four-wheeled cart, using his hands to support himself on the ground, inching forward.

It is said that all five of his limbs were broken. From then on, everyone in Jiangcheng's social circle understood that the rules of the Heavenly Palace on the Cloud Top were by no means empty words.

Qian Duo heard the murmurs around him, looked around, and found Manager Zhou standing not far away, calmly watching them with an expressionless face.

Qian Duo knew perfectly well that no one would dare to make a move here.

He raised his chin, pointed at Luo Fei, and said in a forceful tone, "I don't know who you are, but you'd better not meddle. This is between me and the Zhao family, and it has nothing to do with you."

Luo Fei looked at him quietly without saying a word.

Seeing that he remained silent, Qian Duo assumed he was afraid, and his courage grew even stronger.

"Besides, who do you think you are? In Jiangcheng, do you even count for anything? My dad knows the boss here, so what are you anyway—"

He didn't finish his sentence.

Luo Fei made his move.

He slowly raised his right hand, palm open, the movement neither hurried nor slow.

Snapped!

The crisp, resounding slap echoed through the lobby.

Qian Duo flew out horizontally like a kite with a broken string, flipped 720 degrees in the air, and crashed heavily into a coffee table.

Magazines, ashtrays, and vases were scattered all over the coffee table. The vase was smashed to pieces, and water flowed onto the marble floor, quickly spreading out.

He lay on the ground, his cheek pressed against the cold floor, half of his face swollen, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth, his ears ringing, and his mind blank.

The lobby fell silent instantly.

The onlookers were stunned.

Some people held their wine glasses suspended in mid-air, forgetting to put them down; others suddenly stood up from the sofa, their mouths slightly open.

They had seen all sorts of scenes in the club—arguments, confrontations, threats—but they had never seen anyone actually fight here.

Qian Duo lay on the ground, and it took him several seconds to come to his senses.

He used his hands to support himself on the ground and slowly got up, his eyes narrowed into slits, and drops of blood from the corner of his mouth fell onto his flashy suit.

He looked at Luo Fei, his eyes filled with a mixture of anger, fear, and disbelief.

"You...you dare to hit me here?"

His voice changed tone, becoming high-pitched and thin, like a chicken being choked and squawking.

"You're dead."

He pointed at Luo Fei, his finger trembling, "Do you know where you are? You dare to make a move here? Even without my intervention, none of the people here will let you get away with this!"

He turned to look at Manager Zhou, his eyes filled with a hint of expectation, as if to say, "Look, someone has broken the rules, it's your turn to step in and take care of it."

Manager Zhou stood not far away, his face expressionless, and he did not move an inch.

Qian Duo's smile froze instantly.

He turned to look at the other staff members—the security guard at the door, the bartenders, and the supervisor in the corridor.

Everyone remained rooted to the spot, neither moving nor stepping forward, and no one did as he had hoped to "invite" Luo Fei out.

The air in the lobby seemed to freeze.

Qian Duo lay on the ground and waited for a moment.

None of the people in the club seemed to have any intention of stopping them.

After waiting a while longer, no one came.

His expression shifted from anger to confusion, and then from confusion to fear.

He began to realize that something was wrong.

This young man is no ordinary person.

It is absolutely impossible for an ordinary person to physically assault someone in the Heavenly Palace and then allow Manager Zhou to stand by and do nothing.

Those around seemed to have noticed something was wrong.

The middle-aged man sitting on the sofa put down his wine glass, adjusted his glasses, and whispered to the person next to him, "Who is this young man?"

The person next to him shook his head, his gaze fixed on Luo Fei, as if examining an unsolvable mystery.

Qian Duo got up from the ground.

He dared not look at Luo Fei again, nor dared to utter another harsh word.

He lowered his head, covered half of his swollen face, and retreated towards the stairwell.

His legs were trembling, and he walked unsteadily, looking like a dog that had been beaten and crippled.

He wanted to leave first and find the person who brought him in.

But he had only taken a few steps when...

Several figures appeared at the top of the stairs.

Footsteps came from the stairs, unhurried, leather shoes clicking crisply on the marble steps.

The person walking at the front was a foreign woman.

She was in her early thirties, with long, flowing blonde hair, wearing a well-tailored dark blue dress, and a delicate necklace with a small diamond pendant that sparkled under the light.

She had a high nose bridge and dark red lipstick, making her look like a model who had stepped out of a magazine cover.

But her eyes don't look like a model's.

Her eyes were sharp as knives, sweeping over everyone in the hall.

She was followed by four people: two Chinese men in suits and two foreigners in casual clothes.

These four men were all very strong, and their gait clearly indicated that they had received professional training.

The moment Qian Duo saw the woman, his expression changed—from fear to ecstasy, as if a drowning person had grasped a lifeline.

He scrambled over, stumbling and nearly tripping again.

"Miss Emily! Miss Emily!"

His voice was shrill and high-pitched, trembling with sobs, "Someone hit me here! Look at my face! He hit me! You're a VIP member here, tell security to break their legs and throw them out!"

He pointed to his face, which was swollen beyond recognition, and the bloodstains at the corner of his mouth were still wet on his chin, making him look quite disheveled.

The woman named Emily glanced at him, her gaze lingering on his face for a second before looking away.

She looked toward the center of the lobby.

He looked at the young man standing next to Zhao Zixuan, wearing a T-shirt, with a calm expression as if nothing had happened.

Her eyes narrowed slightly.

Emily shifted her gaze from Luo Fei to Qian Duo, who was still sobbing beside her.

His gaze was icy and chilling, as if he were looking at an insect blocking his way.

Then, she turned her head away and ignored her, walking straight toward Luo Fei.

Her high heels clicked on the marble floor, her steps steady, but a closer look revealed that her fingers were trembling slightly.

The eyes of everyone—the guests in the lobby, the bartenders, the supervisor in the corridor—followed her movements.

They saw the head of the Locke family's representative office in the Dragon Kingdom, Miss Emily, whom even the mayor would greet with a polite handshake, walk straight toward the young man in the T-shirt.

She stopped in front of Luo Fei, then bent down and bowed deeply at a full ninety degrees.

Her long, golden hair cascaded down her shoulders and fell across her cheeks.

Her voice wasn't loud, but the lobby was unusually quiet, and everyone heard her clearly: "Hello, Mr. Luo."