OFR – Chapter 321 Who is he?

The “scheming girl” Lanlan was originally meant to be passively removed by the system through a random task.

A heartbreak value of 100 — for any girl — was a devastating blow.

But because Lanlan hadn’t gone too far in her actions, Mu Bai had chosen not to act. He had let it go. He had let her go.

Naturally, he had no intention of engaging further, for fear of triggering another random task through any new contact.

Who knew what kind of scheming this cunning girl might attempt next?

If she dared to try anything again, it was likely that the next system-issued task wouldn’t be one he could dismiss so easily.

With that in mind, Mu Bai continued to ignore Lanlan. He calmly walked away from the extravagant Koenigsegg and returned to the resting lounge of the car show. Just as he sat down, a polite salesperson approached with a warm smile and offered him several cups of premium hot tea.

“Sir, please enjoy,” the attendant said softly before retreating respectfully.

At that very moment, Li Shan, who had up till now acted like a confident, successful man of the world, strutted over with a sheepish grin and said in a lowered voice:

“Haha… Brother, I didn’t expect you to be so hidden in plain sight. Not a peep, and then BAM — you shocked us all. A Koenigsegg worth over a hundred million… My god, your courage and decisiveness — you must be the number one among your peers in all of Nanjing!”

Mu Bai, who had just picked up a cup of tea to moisten his throat, looked up at him.

He noticed right away that the arrogant air Li Shan had earlier — the smug, self-assured manner of someone who thought of himself as elite — had vanished. In fact, the way he now spoke carried not only respect but even a hint of flattery.

Yes — at this point, even someone as clueless and self-important as Li Shan understood that the boy before him had an identity, background, and power far beyond his own.

Spending over a hundred million on a car without blinking — who among Nanjing’s second-generation elite could pull that off?

Forget the elite circles — even among Nanjing’s most powerful, influential figures, how many could just casually spend that much on a vehicle?

Was he even still a second-gen?

Could he possibly be in the same league as Nalan Yunshao and Li Shaofeng — second-gens who had long surpassed that label?

They had risen to fame young, commanding vast fortunes and enormous influence in Nanjing. No one dared to simply refer to them as “second-generation heirs” anymore.

So… could this boy also be like them — someone who had already transcended the realm of second-gens and now stood at the pinnacle of power in Nanjing?

The thought made Li Shan feel like his worldview was falling apart.

How could someone barely 20 years old already sit among Nanjing’s top-tier elite?

What — did people think the halls of power were like teahouses on the street, open for anyone to stroll into?

No — this society, dominated by wealth and influence, had already split into countless strata. At the top sat the powerful elite.

Below them: the commoners, the modest middle class, the growing bourgeois, and the upper-middle class with decent wealth.

There might be only four tiers on paper, but anyone who had struggled in society knew how hard it was to climb from one level to the next.

It took generations of effort just to move up a step.

So the idea of a 20-year-old boy skipping all that, jumping straight into the elite tier — and not just entering it, but sitting at the top — was almost unbelievable.

Even Nalan Yunshao and Li Shaofeng, with their powerful backgrounds, hadn’t been this dominant at that age.

The very notion had Li Shan’s mind spinning. He mentally ran through every known elite in Nanjing, trying to match the boy’s profile.

And finally, he came up with one possible answer:

Leng.

A young man who had reached the pinnacle of power and influence at the age of twenty — a legendary figure among the powerful.

A name every elite in Nanjing knew.

Even Li Shan’s uncle owed his control over the Li Group’s Nanjing branch to Leng.

It had been Leng who, during the infamous Purple Gold Banquet betting war, defeated Li Shaofeng, forcing him out of Nanjing.

That win had paved the way for Li Shan’s uncle’s rise — and by extension, Li Shan’s own position in the second-gen circle.

In a way, Leng was Li Shan’s indirect benefactor.

Could this quiet, composed boy be Leng?

Could he be the fearsome Leng, the one who even Rong Qingwen had to bow before?

Standing beside the resting seat, Li Shan forced a bitter smile.

Sure, the boy had shown astonishing wealth — but Leng’s level was on another plane entirely.

And besides, how could a nobody like Li Shan, someone barely scraping by in the second-gen world, be lucky enough to just run into Leng at a car show?

It was impossible.

Yes — absolutely impossible.

To Li Shan, this was like a low-level employee at a Fortune 500 company walking into a supermarket and bumping into the CEO himself — absurd.

Leng was a living legend in Nanjing.

The name was known only among the elite. Apart from a brief report following the Purple Gold Banquet, Leng had never appeared in the public eye.

Ordinary people — even the upper middle class — knew very little about him.

But to the elites, especially second-gens like Li Shan, Leng was an idol.

Still, a new thought crept into Li Shan’s mind: Could there be other, low-profile members of Nanjing’s elite that no one knew about?

Just as his thoughts ran wild, Mu Bai — seated calmly — nodded slightly and said softly:

“Mm. It’s fine. Go invite your girlfriend and her friend to sit. Have some tea. Rest a bit.”

Faced with all this flattery, Mu Bai showed no change in expression, no flicker of emotion.

“Sure, thank you. I’m Li Shan. My uncle is Li Chengyun, a minor board member of the Li Group — currently in charge of its Nanjing branch. I really feel like this is fate. May I ask your name? Perhaps we can become friends?”

Li Shan smiled politely and finally introduced his own background.

He then waved over the still-dazed Lanlan and Xiao Qian, who quickly made their way over to join them.

Xiao Qian came over with a sweet smile, clearly trying to win back favor and erase her earlier dismissive attitude toward Mu Bai.

Even a fool could now tell — this quiet, soft-spoken boy was not someone ordinary. He was someone even Li Shan was rushing to befriend.

As for Lanlan, she just sat there, staring at his face — so delicate, so young.

She realized that from start to finish, aside from one fleeting glance, Mu Bai hadn’t even looked her in the eye — not even once.

That made her heart ache with an intensity she couldn’t understand.

And now she vaguely understood — her earlier back-and-forth, her aloofness toward this boy, had likely caused her to miss out on something truly rare.

“Mu,” he said softly when asked his name. “Just Mu.”

Just one plain sentence.

And still, he didn’t even glance at her.

Lanlan’s heart tightened sharply. She couldn’t help but clutch her chest.

Mu.

Even if she had doubted his side profile before — this name confirmed everything.

God-tier High-Cold Mu. QQ nickname: Little Mu.

Now, this boy’s surname was Mu.

What kind of coincidence was this?

There was no way it was a coincidence.

This was him. This was High-Cold Mu.

And yet, this boy — who had once seen her photos, who had painstakingly sent her 520 red envelopes of 13.14 yuan each, now wouldn’t even look at her.

To him, she wasn’t just a stranger — she was like air, like nothing.

Lanlan found this truth impossible to accept — and deeply, deeply painful.