OFR – Chapter 297 Watch him rule the world (Part 2)

At this moment, Rong Qingwen, seated across from Mu Bai, was listening to the thunderous cheers and applause from the crowd.

He couldn’t help but press a hand against his chest, his face pale.

For the first time, the eldest heir of the Rong family felt such intense pain in his heart.

He had lost!

He—who had never been defeated, who had never tasted failure—had now suffered his first loss while carrying the supreme prestige of the Rong family into battle.

And it was a crushing, powerless, disgraceful defeat!

In one single match, he not only lost the Rong family’s reputation, but nearly half of his personal wealth as well.

Lost it all.

Rong Qingwen originally wanted to laugh in anger and say something like, “You’ll regret this.”
But in the end, that laughter turned into a bitter smile.

Because the deafening applause and cheers around him made it painfully clear—no matter what he said or did now, nothing could change the outcome.

He, Rong Qingwen—he, the Rong family—had lost!
Utterly defeated!

Amid this crushing blow, amid the storm of cheers and applause for Cold, Rong Qingwen had to grit his teeth with all his strength and force himself to stand tall, just to avoid showing any weakness in front of the crowd.

He silently turned around, stubborn and unyielding, and walked away from the Zijin Pavilion without saying a word.

And this man—once the presumed lead in this clash of elites—left the scene without drawing much attention at all.

Everyone’s eyes remained fixed on the young man atop the pavilion—the youngest, and the brightest star of the night.

Victory crowns the king, failure damns the defeated—this was not just a saying.

Even figures like Yu Youxiong and Li Shaofeng didn’t follow Rong Qingwen as he left.

They simply sat in silence, reflecting, lost in thought about how they were supposed to survive in Nanjing going forward.

In the entire Zijin Pavilion, the only one who left with Rong Qingwen was a young girl who had followed him from the northern capital.

She was beautiful, obedient, and sensible. Quietly, she followed him out, not daring to make a sound—afraid even her footsteps would disturb him.

She had served Rong Qingwen for many years, but this was the first time she had seen her young master lose so miserably in a high-stakes, high-profile match.

She knew he was barely holding it together—but had no idea how to comfort him.

As the two walked in silence to the parking lot, reaching the luxury Pagani Huayra supercar…

Rong Qingwen, who had been barely keeping it together, finally collapsed at the car door.

He felt his once-proud heart burning with pain—pain so sharp his face turned deathly pale, pain so severe that he didn’t even have the strength to open the car door.

Slumped against the luxury vehicle, he looked like a broken man—like a defeated dog who had nowhere to go.

After a few seconds of this agonizing pain, he slowly raised his head and looked back at the tall figure of the boy standing far away atop the pavilion.

And in that moment of intense pain—he laughed.
He laughed until tears welled up in his eyes.

After three or four seconds of laughter, Rong Qingwen caught his breath, pointed to the boy atop the pavilion, and asked the girl beside him, “Xiaoyue, do you know who that person is?”

“Master, I do. He’s Cold. I’ll remember that name for the rest of my life. I believe you will beat him someday. You’re the one who truly deserves respect and admiration.”

Perhaps her master’s miserable state was too much to bear, and the young girl began crying as she spoke, heartbroken.

But Rong Qingwen just weakly waved his hand and said with resignation, “No need. I’m afraid I won’t have that chance in this lifetime. And that boy—after today, he’ll have a new name. Do you know what it is?”

Hearing this, the girl wiped her tears and curiously asked, “What name, Master? I’ll remember it for you.”

Facing her question, Rong Qingwen let out a bitter smile, then gritted his teeth, forced himself to stand upright from the car door, looked up at the boy in the distance and said:

“Cold the Invincible!
That’s the name of someone who crushed the Rong family’s supreme prestige and ascended to the top of Nanjing!”

With that, Rong Qingwen pulled the young girl into the car.

He didn’t look back.
As if fleeing in shame, he sped away from this ancient city of Nanjing—a place with thousands of years of history.

8:00 PM sharp.
Night had already fallen over Nanjing.

But inside the most luxurious and indulgent venue in the city—the Zijin Pavilion—the lights still blazed brightly, and the crowd buzzed like a thunderstorm!

Rong Qingwen was gone. He had left.

But the most dazzling youth of the night still stood atop the pavilion.

Below the pavilion:
Thunderous applause. Explosive cheers.

All of it, directed at that one young man—a tribute of unmistakable admiration and reverence!

The scene inside the Zijin Pavilion was chaotic, and security staff were trying hard to restore order—but it was completely futile.

Everyone was cheering for the undisputed victor of this power struggle.

The manager of the pavilion, likely hoping that Cold and Nalan Yun would say a few words at the dinner banquet, stood on the pavilion holding a microphone, shouting over the crowd: “Quiet! Quiet!”

But his efforts were in vain.

After shouting for over a minute, the chaos still raged.

Even Nalan Yun could only shake his head in helpless resignation.

Then, suddenly—Mu Bai moved.

He stepped forward, side by side with the pavilion manager, and walked to the railing of the pavilion.

With calm composure, he reached out and took the microphone.

He didn’t say a word.
He simply made a quieting gesture to the crowd.

And in the blink of an eye—the entire Zijin Pavilion fell silent!

From thunderous cheers to absolute stillness—in seconds.

That instant transformation made even the composed Nalan Yun, Chen Yunzhi, and others reveal undisguised shock on their faces.

Because they understood exactly what this meant.

They had expected Cold’s prestige in Nanjing to skyrocket after this battle.

But they had never imagined it would reach such an unprecedented, almost mythical level!

Cold didn’t need to speak.
He only needed to raise a hand.

And the entire room of elite tycoons and nobles fell silent.

What kind of terrifying authority was that?

Not even the father of Li Shaofeng, who controlled the mighty Li Group…
Not even the true elders of the Nalan family…
Not even the man behind the richest man, Chen Yunzhi…

None of them could command such godlike presence in Nanjing.

At that moment, all the powerful elites seated at the pavilion looked toward the boy with complicated eyes.

And among them, in an unremarkable corner, sat the stunningly beautiful Dongfang Jing, who had already exited the poker game earlier.

Beyond her mixed emotions, she also felt an indescribable sense of sorrow.

She faintly remembered—

When she first heard of Mu Bai from Mu Xiaoxiao, she had looked down on him.
She thought he was just some young man who would spend his life struggling at the bottom.

Even when she saw him at the charity gala—so impressive—she was merely curious about him.

Then in Yue’an City, on the old Yue border, when she faced despair—it was Mu Bai who appeared.
With the momentum to sweep rivers and mountains, he rescued her.

That was the first time she felt what it meant to be protected.
The first time she thought—this young man is something special.

But now…

She realized that this boy wasn’t just “special”.
He was so extraordinary—so unreachable—that it felt almost absurd.

So remarkable that all she could do now was sit silently in the corner…

And watch him rule the world.
Watch him become a legend.