Mid-Autumn arrived, and the immortals gathered

After settling the details with Zhen Yuanzi, Qin Fen had a few quiet days. In the meantime, he submitted an application to the Martial Arts Association. Since Old Chen had been so sincere, he saw no reason to make a fuss. He might as well join; he had nothing to lose. The old man left him an invitation and suggested he visit the Provincial Wushu Association after the Mid-Autumn Festival to finish the paperwork. Then everything would be settled.

Without even realizing it, Chef Qin had taken another step along the path of traditional martial arts, and he was delighted. Now he could promote fitness alongside health preservation, strengthening people's constitutions and helping them ward off illness. He sought neither profit nor fame, but the supreme fortune that would let his country stand tall among the nations of the world. He wanted China to remain unshakable, its fortune enduring. This undertaking would benefit generations to come, and as Big Chef, he could not shirk his duty. Qin Fen, too, dreamed of a strong nation.

While he was enjoying himself, Chameleon had been having a miserable few days. The task her employer had assigned her seemed terribly difficult to carry out. She simply could not understand where things had gone wrong, but she kept feeling that something was off.

When he woke up, the Mid-Autumn Festival had arrived right on schedule. After receiving a call from his parents, Qin Fen got into his car and headed home, leaving Little Bean alone at the villa to watch the place.

He drove toward home and soon left the city center behind, reaching the urban fringe. Development here had only recently begun, and the place seemed to pulse with growing life. There were more people, taller buildings, and cars everywhere.

Qin Fen's home was