103: Chapter 103 Two hundred million, RMB, only?

Jiang Rumu: "How much is missing? Let me see if it's enough to keep you."

Li Li stared at this message, his thumb hovering over the full keyboard.

Keep.

This word, popping out of the mouth of a top female celebrity whose net worth was unclear but who definitely wasn't short on money, was handled perfectly. It could be an advance or a retreat; it could be taken as a joke, or it could be taken seriously.

This woman's game is getting stronger.

Just as he was about to type, a new message notification popped down from the top of the screen.

WhatsApp, the American version of WeChat for pure chatting.

Contact name: Fahd, the Seventh Prince of Dubai.

The profile picture was a cheetah lying on the hood of a Lamborghini—a live one.

Li Li's thumb hovered for 0.3 seconds, then he decisively switched out of Jiang Rumu's chat box and clicked into WhatsApp.

Jiang Rumu's "keeping" plan would have to wait.

A call from the Middle East royal family; priority set to maximum.

Fahd had sent a voice message. Li Li opened it, and Arabic flowed from the earpiece, the accent carrying the unique, languid tone of the Dubai royal family.

"My friend, long time no see. You're still alive, which makes me very happy."

Li Li held down the microphone and replied with a voice message in fluent Arabic.

"I'm alive, just a bit poor."

Fahd replied instantly with text.

"Poor? Aren't you very popular in China? I watched your livestream; it was very exciting. Especially when you splashed those people with the Hotpot base; your movements were very clean."

Li Li's fingers paused.

Watched the livestream?

He typed.

"When did you learn to scroll through TikTok?"

Fahd replied with a thumbs-up emoji, followed immediately by a long paragraph.

"I don't scroll. I arranged a three-person team specifically to monitor your social media updates. If there is important information, they report it to me immediately."

Li Li held the phone an inch further away and re-read the paragraph.

A three-person team.

Specifically watching his livestream.

Reporting important information.

The Middle East royal family's social media monitoring system was more professional than the fan support groups of top domestic entertainment celebrities.

"...Are you serious?"

"Of course. You are a friend who has made significant contributions to Ala Country; my team will continue to monitor your safety and updates. This is the most basic etiquette."

Etiquette.

Other people's etiquette is sending a WeChat red envelope during holidays, but the Seventh Prince of Dubai's etiquette is assigning you a transnational intelligence team.

Li Li leaned back in his chair and held his phone level in front of his face.

Fahd's next message had already arrived.

"So, my friend—are you planning to build a resort hotel on Mount Qingcheng?"

As expected.

He knew everything he needed to know.

Li Li couldn't be bothered to beat around the bush and directly typed out the entire plan for the hotel to support the Qingcheng Orphanage. Land planning, number of rooms, profit-sharing ratios, and the orphanage's operating deficit—it was clear and organized.

After sending it, he waited for a dozen seconds.

Fahd's reply was only one sentence.

"The plan is good. But there is one problem."

"Do you have that much money?"

Li Li stared at the screen.

No point in pretending.

"No."

"Then what are you going to do? Take out a loan?"

"Loans are too stupid," Li Li typed extremely fast. "The interest will eat up most of the hotel's profits, the orphanage won't get any money, and the whole plan will be for nothing. I'm looking for investors."

Fahd sent a thinking emoji.

"This type of investment has a long return cycle, and profits have to be prioritized for the orphanage. I'm afraid it won't be easy to find someone willing to be this sucker."

Li Li didn't refute this.

It was the truth.

Normal investors, upon seeing the clause "profits prioritized to feed back into the orphanage," would throw the business plan directly into the shredder. Capital doesn't believe in tears; it only looks at balance sheets.

"How much money do you need?" Fahd asked.

"Two hundred million."

The message was sent, and the other side was silent for five seconds.

Fahd replied with a voice message; the Arabic had a noticeably rising tone, revealing a sense of disbelief.

"Two hundred million? To build an international chain resort hotel, you only need two hundred million?"

Li Li frowned and added a sentence.

"RMB."

The other side was silent for another three seconds.

"...Still RMB?"

"Yes."

"Then converted to US dollars... about twenty-eight million?"

"Pretty much."

Fahd sent a long string of Arabic. The general meaning when translated was—

"My friend, in Dubai, twenty-eight million US dollars is only enough to build the lobby of a hotel. Your Chinese construction costs are so cheap it makes my heart ache."

Li Li's mouth twitched.

Culture shock.

A single night's stay at the Burj Al Arab in Dubai is enough to cover the food expenses for Qingcheng Orphanage for a month. Explaining the price levels of a third-tier county-level city in China to this guy was truly a bit difficult.

"Two hundred million is the initial budget," Li Li explained. "For a high-end resort hotel with three hundred rooms of an international chain brand, it covers design fees, construction fees, brand management fees, and the first two years of operating expenses. In reality, it might not even be enough."

Fahd didn't dwell on the price anymore.

When the next message popped up, Li Li's hand stopped.

"How about this: I'll put up three hundred million RMB."

Li Li stared at the screen.

"In addition, Jumeirah Group will provide the hotel brand licensing, no management fees, and we will operate it ourselves."

His fingers didn't move.

"According to the traditions of Ala Country, locals need to hold more than 51% of the shares, so our equity ratio will be: Jumeirah holds 49%, and you hold 51%. The annual profits will prioritize meeting the two million US dollars for the orphanage—"

Li Li subconsciously sat up straight.

Two million US dollars.

Fourteen million RMB.

The orphanage's annual operating deficit is only one million; this money would directly plug the gap and leave a huge surplus.

"—with a cap of 30% profit sharing. You keep the rest yourself."

Fahd added one last sentence.

"Of course, if you agree."

Li Li placed his phone on the table.

He stood up.

He took two steps in that four-square-meter small room.

He turned around and took two more steps.

He sat down.

Three hundred million RMB.

Jumeirah brand.

Self-operated.

51% controlling stake.

Pie falling from the sky? No, the whole barbecue stall fell from the sky, complete with beer and skewers.

He picked up his phone and typed again.

"Fahd, if Jumeirah does this, they are absolute suckers. Can your board of directors pass this? Won't the chairman chop you up? These terms are too much of a loss for you guys."

Fahd replied with a voice message.

This time he used English, probably thinking that Arabic couldn't express that feeling of "are you stupid."

"My friend, we are friends now, right? You don't even follow my news?"

Li Li was stunned for a moment.

Fahd immediately followed up by sending a picture.

The picture was an appointment announcement in Arabic, with Fahd's full name printed at the top, and the golden seal of the Ala Country government stamped below.

"Chairman of Jumeirah Group—Fahd bin Mohammed Al Maktoum."

He sent another one.

"Minister of Energy of Ala Country—Fahd bin Mohammed Al Maktoum."

Li Li stared at the two appointment letters.

The Seventh Prince had been promoted.

Not a small promotion; he took a rocket.

Jumeirah Group, one of the world's top hotel management groups, owns the Burj Al Arab, Atlantis The Palm, and even has Jumeirah hotels in Jinling and Huadu.

Minister of Energy—in Ala Country, oil is cheaper than water, and the budget held by the Minister of Energy is enough to buy several medium-sized countries.

And the cause of all this was the list of spies Li Li gave him in Dubai.

Delia recorded the intelligence while risking her life, allowing Fahd to soar in the battle for the crown prince position.

"Brother," Fahd's text message popped up again. "You are now speaking directly with a high-ranking foreign official. So, the board of directors issue—I have the final say."

"Besides, three hundred million RMB is only the cost of oil for a small crude oil tanker. If I let them make a few more trips, it'll be covered, and they'll be even happier."

Speechless.

This "them" might also include the Eastern Great Country.

Li Li slowly typed two words.

"Awesome."

He thought about it and deleted it.

He typed a thumbs-up emoji.

Transnational social interaction; mind the diplomatic etiquette.

Fahd didn't give him much time to digest it.

"I will send a Jumeirah executive team to Mount Qingcheng within a week for a site visit. I'll have the legal department draft the contract in advance and bring it over along with the brand licensing agreement."

He paused.

"You'd better find a reliable lawyer to review the contract in advance. Although I won't scam you, the process must be followed correctly. Business is business, and friendship is friendship."

Li Li's mind flashed with the image of Han Shubai's face wearing gold-rimmed glasses.

That guy had just left the deputy director of the Municipal Bureau speechless in a livestream; he was at the peak of his combat effectiveness.

"I have a lawyer."

"Very good."

Fahd sent a handshake emoji.

Li Li pondered for two seconds and typed the next line.

"Fahd, ask you something."

"Speak."

"How is the Middle East now? I saw in the news that the fighting is almost over."

This time, Fahd's reply took a long time.

Nearly half a minute.

"On the surface, it is quiet."

"But quiet doesn't mean it's over. A new war has already begun—a spy war. You know."

Li Li certainly understood.

The artillery fire stopped, but the hidden knives were just being drawn.

Fahd continued typing, with long intervals between each sentence, as if he were deliberating his wording.

"Israel is currently pressuring Trump."

"They want to drag the US military into the water and intervene directly."

"Ala Country is doing its best to guard against this possibility."

Li Li looked at the words on the screen and could imagine the pressure on Ala Country.

Fahd's last message popped up.

Only one sentence.

"Also—they are still looking for you."

The room was very quiet. The wind from Mount Qingcheng outside the window passed through the corridor, bringing in the scent of pine trees and soil.

Li Li stared at the words "looking for you."

That F-18.

He had flown that thing onto the 001 Aircraft Carrier. Israel didn't just lose an airplane; it was the data for the entire avionics and fire control system.

The other side couldn't possibly let this debt slide.

He exited WhatsApp.

Returned to the WeChat interface.

Jiang Rumu's message, "How much is missing? Let me see if it's enough to keep you," was still hanging on the screen; she had been waiting for nearly twenty minutes without receiving a reply.

Imperial Capital, Haidian District.

Jiang Rumu was lying on the bed, pounding the pillow in her arms flat and then kneading it round again.

The phone screen went black.

She pressed it to light it up.

Still no message.

She turned over and stared at the ceiling.

Following that, she sent another one.

Jiang Rumu: [?]

Jiang Rumu: [Li Li, did you fall asleep?]

Jiang Rumu: [Or were you scared by my dominance?]

Mount Qingcheng, small room in the orphanage.

Li Li looked at the three consecutive messages and chuckled.

He typed.

Li Li: [Didn't sleep. Dealing with a big business deal.]

Li Li: [The money for the hotel, it's sorted out.]

The message was sent, and the other side was quiet for five seconds.

Jiang Rumu: [...So fast?]

Jiang Rumu: [I just asked how much is missing, and you already handled it?]

Jiang Rumu: [Did you find another sucker behind my back?]

Li Li bit the cap of his pen and hesitated.

Fahd's affairs were not convenient to discuss in detail; it involved the Middle East royal family and spy intelligence. Chatting about this on WeChat was no different from shouting state secrets in a vegetable market.

Although, chatting about this on WhatsApp felt like it was also being fully monitored by the Americans.

Li Li: [Details when we meet in person. Anyway, your little treasury is safe for now.]

Jiang Rumu: [...]

Jiang Rumu: [So my "keep" message was for nothing?]

Li Li stared at the screen, his fingers hovering over the full keyboard.

Three things were going through his mind at the same time.

Jumeirah's contract.

Israel's pursuit.

Jiang Rumu's "keep" declaration.

Priority ranking: Contract > Pursuit > Keeping.

But reply order: Keeping > Contract > Pursuit.

A major country's pursuit was not as important as the orphanage, and even less important than a woman's message.

After all, if a woman waits too long, she will explode.

Li Li: [Not for nothing, put it on the tab first, I'll pay you back with interest later.]

After sending, he locked the screen.

On the sketch next to him, the ink on that question mark for "August 1st?" had long since dried.

He opened the grid notebook and flipped to a new page.

The pen tip fell, and he wrote three lines of text.

"1. Contact Han Shubai to review the Jumeirah contract."

"2. On-site survey for the resort hotel location, coordinate with the executive team for the inspection."

"3."

The pen tip hovered.

The third line was empty.

He looked up out the window. The silhouette of Mount Qingcheng was pressed very low in the twilight, the black shadows of the pine forest layered one upon another.

The phone in his pocket vibrated again.

Unknown number.

International area code.

Not the +971 for Ala Country.

It was a string of numbers he hadn't seen before.

Li Li stared at the caller ID, his thumb resting on the answer button, but he didn't press it.

The ringtone rang for the third time in the four-square-meter room.

The fourth time.

He pressed answer and put the phone to his ear.

In the earpiece, there was a very faint background hum of electricity.

Then came a man's Chinese, with a heavy accent and extremely stiff pronunciation.

Chinese with a Hebrew accent.

"Li Xianshen, let's go pee!"