The dating reality show host just wanted to give up, but the rich girl fell for him.

The headquarters building of the Jiang Group in Beijing's CBD.

The quiet office area, which had been filled only with the sound of keyboard typing, suddenly felt like a drop of cold water had been poured into a calm pan of oil.

It instantly went wild!

Tens of thousands of employees rubbed their eyes as they stared at the internal email with a bright red urgent exclamation mark on their computer screens, thinking they were hallucinating from working overtime.

The email was extremely brief, yet it exuded a tyrannical and domineering aura unique to the head of a multi-billion dollar empire.

[President's Office Top Directive: All employees are to immediately stop what they are doing and enter the official "Heart Signal" live stream room.]

[Use all ten of your daily voting opportunities to vote for guest "Lin Mo".]

[After voting, submit a screenshot to the finance system for reimbursement. Each person will receive a special allowance of 200 yuan. This task is today's core KPI; execute it immediately!]

Quiet.

The entire office area fell silent for three seconds.

Immediately afterwards, a frenzied cheer erupted, as if the roof had been blown off!

"Holy crap! Is this a windfall?! Just ten clicks and I can get two hundred dollars for free?!"

"Has the chairman's account been hacked? Or is this Lin Mo some kind of long-lost heir of our group?"

"Who cares if he's a prince! Even if he's a pig, as long as he gives me two hundred dollars, I'll consider him a living saint!"

"Quick, quick! Borrow all the phone numbers from all our relatives! This is our chance to fleece the capitalists!"

On this afternoon, I felt utterly drained by the 996 work culture.

Jiang Jianguo, the richest man in China, ignited the passion of tens of thousands of working people with the most straightforward and brutal "money power".

Meanwhile, in the IT department located underground within the group.

Hundreds of bald, senior programmers even find manually clicking "like" too slow.

"Brothers! We've been training for this moment! Write a group control script for me on the intranet!"

"Activate the IP addresses of tens of thousands of computers across the entire group, and automatically vote for the Crown Prince... no, I mean, for Lin Mo with a single click!"

"Charge! Charge! Charge! For that 200 yuan prize! Crush the opposing team's online trolls!"

……

at the same time.

In the backstage control room of the "Heart Signal" program.

The chief director, Fatty Wang, was holding a cup of premium Da Hong Pao tea, legs crossed, enjoying the real-time data screen.

On the screen, Zhao Kuo's votes were rising at a steady, albeit extremely irregular, rate.

It has already surpassed the three million mark and firmly holds the number one spot.

And the last place, unsurprisingly, was Lin Mo, the one with the tattered backpack who was eager to go home and harvest wheat.

A pitiful eight thousand votes.

"Heh, what nonsense about gaining fans in reverse, what philosophical master."

Fatty Wang sneered and took a sip of tea with utter disdain.

"In this industry, hype is all superficial; only capital earned with real money is the true hard currency."

"As soon as the voting ends, immediately send security to Building C to make sure this plague gets off my show!"

Just as Fatty Wang was already plotting in his mind how to curry favor with Young Master Zhao...

The data technician sitting in front of the monitoring console, responsible for maintaining the server, suddenly let out a terrified scream, as if he had seen a ghost.

"Director...Director!!!"

The technician jumped up from his chair, his face pale, and pointed at the alarm that was flashing red lights wildly in front of him.

"Something terrible has happened! Something drastic!"

Fatty Wang frowned and put down his teacup with displeasure.

"What are you yelling about? Is the sky falling down?"

"No...it's not the sky falling..." The technician swallowed hard, his voice trembling so much that he couldn't even utter a complete sentence.

"It's...it's our server that's about to crash!"

Fatty Wang was stunned for a moment: "How is that possible? We're using top-of-the-line commercial cloud servers, capable of accommodating 50 million people online simultaneously!"

"Could it be that Young Master Zhao's online army was spamming too aggressively and clogged the interface?"

"These are not paid trolls! They are all real people! They are all extremely high-quality, verified accounts!"

The technician's fingers flew across the keyboard, frantically retrieving the backend monitoring logs.

The dense code on the screen cascaded down like a waterfall.

"Just in the last thirty seconds!"

"An extremely massive and terrifying flow of IP addresses, like a tsunami, directly breached our firewall and forcefully crashed into the voting channel!"

The technician stared wide-eyed, his face filled with disbelief.

"The source of these IP addresses is extremely consistent!"

"They're all...all from the corporate intranet of the Jiang Group headquarters in Beijing's CBD!"

"And they're still pouring in! Fifty thousand... eighty thousand... one hundred thousand!!!"

Wang Pangzi's head buzzed, and the purple clay teacup in his hand fell to the ground with a "crash" and shattered into pieces.

The scalding hot tea splashed all over his crotch, but he seemed not to feel any pain.

"What did you say?!"

"The Jiang Group?! The business empire of Jiang Jianguo, the richest man in Beijing whose every move shakes the entire Chinese business world?!"

Fatty Wang's voice cracked, and his face was filled with utter horror.

"What are they all doing, having nothing better to do than come to our lousy dating reality show?!"

"Who did they vote for?!"

The technician did not answer.

Because there's no need for an answer anymore.

He stiffly extended a finger and pointed to the huge real-time data screen hanging in the center of the control room.

Fatty Wang suddenly raised his head and looked in the direction the technician was pointing.

The next second, his eyeballs almost bulged out of their sockets!

On the big screen...

The bar representing Lin Mo's votes, which had been lying at the very bottom like a dead fish, looked pitiful.

Suddenly, it felt like someone had forcibly shoved the engine of an intercontinental ballistic missile into my head!

"Whoosh—!!!"

Accompanied by the notification sound of background data being refreshed rapidly.

That red bar chart took off vertically in a terrifying manner, completely disregarding the laws of physics!

Ten thousand!

100,000!

Five hundred thousand!

One million!

Its ascent speed was so fast that even the system's UI animations couldn't keep up with the rendering, resulting in extremely comical frame drops and afterimages.

Less than a minute had passed.

Lin Mo's vote count bar chart presented an overwhelming and domineering presence.

With a loud "bang," he smashed into all the guests in front of him!

What top-tier young male idols, what popular young actresses?

Faced with the overwhelming power of absolute capital, personally intervened by the richest man, they all became cannon fodder, utterly vulnerable!

Two million!

Three million!

Four million!

"It's surpassed...it's surpassed Zhao Kuo..."

The technician muttered to himself, his eyes glazed over.

Lin Mo's bar chart not only easily crushed Zhao Kuo's proud three million online army votes.

Because the number of votes was so high, the red pillar broke through the maximum limit of the screen UI and reached the very top edge of the display, becoming a bottomless pit that could not be fully displayed!

Fault line first!

A truly decisive, unsurprising, and utterly despairing first place!

If Zhao Kuo's naval forces were a continuous drizzle, then what's hitting Lin Mo now is an epic tsunami with the Milky Way overflowing!

Wang Pangzi's entire body of fat was trembling violently.

He slumped into his chair, feeling his worldview completely collapse at that moment.

What's wrong with this world?!

That penniless guy who only wanted to sleep and wanted to be eliminated and go home to harvest wheat.

Why would the entire conglomerate of Beijing's richest man's group go to such lengths to prop up the stock price?!

Could it be... that he really is some kind of unspeakable, reclusive master?!

And at this very moment.

In that dilapidated old house in Building C, which didn't even have air conditioning.

"Achoo—!!!"

Lin Mo, who was sleeping soundly in a bamboo rocking chair with the upside-down copy of "One Hundred Years of Solitude" covering his face, suddenly sneezed loudly.

The book on his face fell to the ground with a "thud".

Lin Mo rubbed his itchy nose and sat up sleepily.

He wrapped his faded old man's shirt around his neck with some confusion.

"That's strange."

Lin Mo muttered something and turned to look at the bright sunshine outside the window.

"Who's cursing at me on such a hot day? I feel a chill down my spine."

However, Lin Mo quickly put this insignificant chill out of his mind.

He glanced at the clock on the wall.

There is only half an hour left before the voting channel closes.

Lin Mo stretched lazily, his gaze falling on the huge, already packed military green backpack in the corner.

He could even smell the enticing aroma emanating from the unfinished scallion in his bag.

That's the taste of freedom!

"I'll be able to leave work soon."

Lin Mo's lips curled into an uncontrollable smile of ecstasy, as if he could already see the two hundred acres of golden wheat fields at the village entrance beckoning to him.

"This lousy show is finally coming to an end."

He was overjoyed, yet remained completely unaware of the online world he had turned upside down.

……

Time flies.

Half an hour later, the solo live stream session officially ended.

With a countdown "beep," the online voting channels were completely locked!

Heartbeat Hut, the main stage in the lobby on the first floor.

The dazzling spotlights lit up one after another, illuminating the entire stage as bright as day.

The recording of the elimination night has officially begun.

Below the stage.

The guests had all changed into extremely formal, even luxurious evening gowns and haute couture suits, and sat on the sofa with different expressions.

Lin Mo, however, was dressed in baggy shorts and flip-flops, with a snakeskin bag beside him, looking like he was waiting for the bus.

The air was thick with an extremely tense, even suffocating, atmosphere of grim tension.

Meanwhile, in the control room...

The chief director, Fatty Wang, was staring intently at the final voting data on the screen, which had solidified and presented an extremely terrifying discontinuity.

Lin Mo's vote count has reached an outrageous astronomical number.

Fatty Wang's face was so gloomy it looked like it could drip water, and cold sweat streamed down his fat cheeks.

Just then.

"Buzzing—"

The secure internal cell phone on the control panel suddenly started vibrating violently.

Fatty Wang glanced at the caller ID.

The name on it made his pupils shrink sharply.

[Zhao Jinhai, Chairman of the Zhao Group (the program's largest title sponsor)]

Fatty Wang took a deep breath, as if grasping at the last straw, and pressed the answer button with trembling hands.

"Feed... Chairman Zhao..."

On the other end of the phone came an extremely authoritative, cold voice that exuded a strong sense of financial pressure.

"Director Wang, I know about what happened online."

"I don't care what shady hacking methods that poor kid named Lin Mo used to rig the votes."

"All I know is that I spent 50 million to sponsor this show, not to make my son a clown in front of a national audience!"

Fatty Wang wiped his sweat repeatedly, his back bent so low it almost touched the ground: "Yes, yes, yes! Chairman Zhao, please calm down! This data is indeed abnormal, there's a strong suspicion of vote rigging!"

"The first place can only belong to my son, Zhao Kuo."

The voice on the other end of the phone was completely devoid of warmth.

"As for Lin Mo, tonight, I must make him take his shabby luggage and get out of my sight like a dog."

"Is it possible?"

Fatty Wang stared at the data bar on the screen that represented the terrifying power of the Jiang Group and swallowed hard.

But considering the 50 million sponsorship fee and the terrifying consequences of breaching the contract...

He gritted his teeth, a ruthless glint flashing in his eyes like that of a desperate criminal.

"Don't worry, Chairman Zhao."

Fatty Wang stared intently at the microphone with a gloomy face.

"Don't worry, I have a way to handle this 'abnormal' data."