A Rich Second-generation Villain Can’t Just Enjoy Life — Chapter 475

Chapter 475: Wishful Thinking!

The wine is beautiful, but the person is even more beautiful! Long Hao, having been reborn two and a half years ago, already knew about Dream Night Bar and its proprietress, Situ Yueying. This was the territory of Han Qi, the Dragon King Consort, a future prominent figure, and Situ Yueying was Han Qi’s right-hand woman, the second-in-command of the Dragon King Society.

According to the timeline burned into Long Hao’s memory, in just over a year, the Dragon King Society would explode onto the scene. It would consolidate its power, growing into an unstoppable force that dominated the entire underground world of Yanxia’s southern region. It was then that Han Qi, the man currently dismissed as a worthless, live-in son-in-law of the Liu family, would finally make his move. He would launch a thunderous campaign of revenge against Han Xiu, the reigning Da Shao of the prestigious Emperor Capital Han Family, and seize the clan’s throne for himself.

The stories of Han Qi’s years of silent suffering and meticulous planning would eventually leak out, becoming legendary tales whispered in every corner of the country. His journey was the stuff of epics: a discarded young master from a titan-like family in the Emperor Capital, cast out and reduced to the humiliating status of a kept man for a second-rate family in Modu. He had swallowed insults, endured mockery, and patiently bided his time for years, all while weaving a web so intricate that he could topple the colossal Han Family in a single, decisive strike.

Even Long Hao, in his previous life, had been deeply moved when he first heard the story. Back then, he was a broken man, utterly demoralized after Su Hongmian had shattered his world by publicly annulling their engagement. The tale of Han Qi’s comeback had ignited a brief, fiery spark within him.

After that momentary surge of adrenaline, however, Long Hao had simply rolled over in bed and continued playing Genshin Impact.

*’Cough, cough… I was so useless in my past life because my cultivation was a complete dead end. No matter how hard I tried, I hit a wall,’* Long Hao mused, a bitter memory flashing through his mind before being replaced by a sharp, predatory glint. *’But things are different now. I’m a reborn transmigrator with an investment rebate system. This time, I will soar to the heavens.’*

A cold light flashed in Long Hao’s eyes as he reviewed the flawless plan taking shape in his mind—a strategy that would kill two birds with one stone.

He knew Dragon King Consort Han Qi was not a man to be trifled with. The man’s mind was a razor-sharp labyrinth of schemes, his patience was inhuman, and his methods were brutally efficient. Earning his trust was nearly impossible. Long Hao hadn’t dared to invest in him earlier for this very reason; not only was it a monumental challenge to get close to Han Qi, but there was a significant chance of being seen as a threat and eliminated without a second thought. An ambush from a man like that was a death sentence.

Even if he summoned his father, Long Qing, the patriarch of the Long Family in Sichuan, their combined strength would be insufficient to bring the Dragon King Consort to heel. Long Hao estimated that Han Qi’s current power was, at minimum, at the peak of the Grandmaster realm. And he had an ace up his sleeve: Tianfeng Ichiro, a terrifying Grandmaster of the Sword Dao, whose loyalty was absolute.

But Sword Immortal Nie Yun… he was another matter entirely. He could crush a man like Han Qi.

Nie Yun was a legend, one of the top ten powerhouses in all of Yanxia. After his recent breakthrough into the Land Immortal realm, his fame had reached celestial heights. He was a figure spoken of in the same breath as Sword God Ye Linyuan, with whom he was destined to clash in a decisive battle by the East Sea.

Long Hao’s calculation was precise. First, he would befriend Sword Immortal Nie Yun and successfully invest in him, securing his favor. Then, leveraging the Sword Immortal’s overwhelming prestige and power, he would approach Dragon King Consort Han Qi. Subdued by a greater force, Han Qi would be far more receptive. It was a roundabout way to gain his trust, a necessary stepping stone to the second, even more lucrative investment.

*’Hehe, once my two-birds-with-one-stone plan is complete, I’ll have more than enough power and capital to stand on my own two feet,’* Long Hao thought, a triumphant smirk spreading across his face. *’Hmph, Shen Anyu… even if you are the vaunted young master of the Yanxia Shen Family, I will drag you down from your pedestal. I will make you kneel at my feet and beg for mercy!’*

At that very moment, Sword Immortal Nie Yun, who had been listening with a drunken haze over his features, heard Long Hao’s words. His bleary eyes suddenly sharpened, focusing with an intensity that belied his inebriated state.

“The best wine in Modu? ‘Dream Night’?” he slurred, his voice thick with anticipation.

Long Hao chuckled, the sound crisp and confident. He snapped his fingers with a theatrical flair.

“Bingo,” he declared. “That’s the one. The best cocktail in Modu, maybe even in all of Yanxia. The legendary ‘Dream Night’!”

Pivoting slightly, Long Hao raised his voice, projecting it across the opulent bar to catch the attention of the manager who stood observing from a distance.

“Manager! Get your proprietress out here. Tell her to mix us a round of ‘Dream Night’.”

He paused, letting the weight of his next words sink in. “Money is not an issue!”

In his past life, Long Hao had heard whispers and rumors about this famous cocktail. It was said that a single glass cost a staggering 130,000 yuan—an utterly exorbitant price that seemed to defy logic. Yet, everyone who had tasted it gave it rave reviews, describing it as a transcendent experience. He had been too deep in his spiral of despair over Su Hongmian to ever consider visiting Modu back then.

This life, however, presented the perfect opportunity. He could finally taste the miraculous cocktail and, in the process, secure the allegiance of a Land Immortal. It was a perfect gesture of borrowing flowers to offer to the Buddha.

[Akarin’s Note: “Borrowing flowers to offer to the Buddha” (借花献佛) is a Chinese idiom that means using someone else’s resources to achieve one’s own goals, often as a form of gift-giving or networking.]

However, the manager’s response was not what he expected. The man approached their table, his face a mask of professional difficulty.

“Sir, our proprietress announced a long time ago that she no longer personally mixes ‘Dream Night’,” he explained apologetically.

*Of course,* the manager added silently, *except for that one person.*

Hearing the flat refusal, a flicker of displeasure crossed Long Hao’s face. This was a critical step in his plan to befriend the Sword Immortal. He couldn’t afford a failure this early. Still, he knew this was the Dragon King Consort’s territory and didn’t dare to cause a scene and make an enemy of Han Qi prematurely.

After a moment’s thought, Long Hao leaned forward, his voice a low, persuasive hum. “How about double the price? 260,000 per glass.”

He was offering a sum hundreds of times more valuable than the same weight in gold. He couldn’t imagine anyone refusing such an offer.

The manager, however, remained resolute, shaking his head with that same troubled expression. “Sir, I’m very sorry, but it’s really not possible.”

*Slap!*

Long Hao’s palm slammed down on the polished wood of the table. The sharp crack silenced the nearby chatter. His annoyance was now boiling into anger.

“Triple! 390,000 per glass. How about that?” he snarled, his eyes locked on the manager. “Five times? Six?”

When the manager continued to shake his head, looking increasingly distressed, Long Hao let out a sharp, exasperated laugh that held no humor.

“Are you deliberately trying to make things difficult for me?” he demanded, his voice rising. “Ten times! 1.3 million! Will that work?”

He didn’t actually have that much pocket money on him, but he could call his father, Long Qing. As long as his cards hadn’t been frozen again. The memory of the last time that happened sent a wave of cold dread through him, but he pushed it aside.

Ten times the price.

One million, three hundred thousand yuan. For a single glass of wine.

A stunned silence fell over their section of the bar. The nearby staff froze, their hands paused mid-motion. The few scattered guests who had overheard the exchange stared with wide, disbelieving eyes.

Good heavens. A Porsche for a glass of wine.

Just who was this Da Shao?

Only Sword Immortal Nie Yun seemed unaffected, swaying slightly in his seat, a drunken, detached look on his face as if the world and its fortunes meant nothing to him.

The manager was visibly shocked by the ten-fold offer. His jaw went slack for a second before he composed himself. Yet, even with this astronomical sum on the table, he shook his head, his expression now one of sheer desperation.

“Sir, I apologize, but no matter how much money you offer, our proprietress has made it clear. If she says she won’t mix it, she won’t.”

[Ding! The Child of Destiny, Long Hao, has suffered a setback due to the host’s influence. Plundering 9,999 Destiny Points!]

…

Rage, pure and undiluted, erupted within Long Hao.

So she used to mix it, but now that he, Long Hao, was offering ten times the price, suddenly she couldn’t?

It was just mixing a goddamn cocktail! How was it any different from a chef cooking a dish? It’s not like she was being asked to sell her body. What kind of bar refuses to sell its own signature drink? And to refuse an offer of 1.3 million? It was insanity! It was a direct insult!

Beside him, Sword Immortal Nie Yun smacked his lips loudly, his voice laced with genuine regret. “Ah, a pity. It seems I won’t be able to taste fine wine tonight.”

Though he possessed the strength to level the entire city block, the Sword Immortal was a man of principle. He never bullied the weak or forced his will upon others, which was why his reputation was leagues better than that of the infamous Sword God Ye Linyuan.

Long Hao knew this, but the Sword Immortal’s disappointment only fueled his own anxiety. The very first step of his grand plan—what he had assumed would be the simplest part, just throwing money at the problem—was proving to be an impassable obstacle. How could this be?

“Call your proprietress over here!” Long Hao roared, pounding the table again for emphasis. His face was a cold mask of fury.

The manager flinched. His expression was now one of pure agony. On one hand, a guest willing to spend 1.3 million on a drink was clearly from an extraordinary background and could not be offended. On the other hand, summoning the proprietress over such a matter would make him look utterly incompetent. He was trapped.

“There’s no need. I’m here.”

A voice, as cold as winter frost yet laced with a captivating, almost hypnotic charm, suddenly cut through the tension. From the sound alone, one could conjure images of legendary femme fatales—figures like Daji or Baosi, enchantresses whose beauty had toppled dynasties.

The sharp, rhythmic *tap… tap… tap* of high heels on the floor echoed in the now-silent bar.

Every head, without exception, turned in unison toward the source of the sound.

Accompanying the footsteps, a woman wearing a wine-red long dress, with an exquisitely charming face, walked gracefully in high heels. It was none other than the proprietress of Dream Night Bar, Situ Yueying!