I Have 10 Trillion Dollars only Usable For Simping Chapter 2655 - 1653: You Call the Shots

Without a doubt.

That chair was the Dragon Chair that had made people for thousands of years rush forward, dreaming of it, gladly losing their heads and spilling their blood...

As for whether it was "one in the Forbidden City, one here for me," or a one‑to‑one replica, Boss Jiang hadn’t reached that level yet and couldn’t tell. Besides, it was indeed a bit far away.

Of course.

He couldn’t tell if the Dragon Chair was real or fake, but he could clearly see the woman on the Dragon Chair.

The Dragon Chair can be copied, but a person’s aura is very hard to imitate.

So.

He didn’t dare step forward anymore.

He really had been careless.

That kid Martial Saint is loyal and righteous; he’d even gone out of his way to call him and remind him to take it easy...

No, wait.

You can’t really blame someone for letting their guard down; it wasn’t him who wanted to come back, it was Fang Qing who "deported" him back.

Could it be...

There really are gods three feet above our heads?

He’d just ruined someone’s family, turned her into a living widow, and now retribution had immediately fallen on him?

"How did you know I was coming back today?"

Actually treating this like a life‑or‑death enemy encounter, Boss Jiang pretended to be relaxed and made small talk. Maybe it was the influence of all those national treasures on display—the atmosphere was a tad oppressive and needed to be livened up.

"Why trouble Brother Liao to run all the way over? Wouldn’t just giving me a call have been enough?"

See.

How sinister is that?

She even went to the trouble of picking Liao Xiangdong specifically. If it were someone else, was she worried she’d alert the snake by stirring the grass?

Did she think he’d run?

The woman on the Dragon Chair didn’t say a word, didn’t move a muscle, like a sculpture fused together with the Dragon Chair.

He’d already been invited into the trap; running now was definitely too late. The door was certainly locked. Boss Jiang didn’t waste any pointless moves and instead fished out his phone from his trouser pocket.

"Don’t move yet, let me take a picture."

What’s the scarcest resource in the twenty‑first century?

Talent!

But to be fair, this scene really did deserve to be preserved as a memento. Way more exciting than any artsy photos.

"Swoosh."

He had no idea what flew over; it unbelievably managed to hit the phone Jiang Chen had just taken out, before he’d even fully raised it—in other words, it struck a moving target!

"Crack!"

The back screen of the phone shattered.

Thankfully Boss Jiang wasn’t short of money. If this had been some cheap phone, the price to pay might have been more than just a phone.

"Clang."

The "hidden weapon" hit the ground, smashing against the cold, crystal‑clear tiles.

Turned out to be a metal hairpin.

Jiang Chen’s eye twitched. He didn’t know if it was from anger or from the aftershock.

If her aim hadn’t been so ridiculously accurate and had been off just a bit, wouldn’t the one suffering have been his warm chest or his handsome face?

Boss Jiang’s confidence was growing by the day, but he wasn’t so conceited as to think he could take on a sharp weapon with just his face.

"That’s too much!"

He lifted his head.

"I only smacked your butt once. At worst you could call the police."

Boss Jiang was still very clear‑headed.

Sure.

Molestation isn’t exactly glorious, but the charge is definitely lighter than serious injury or permanent disability.

If both sides can keep it tacit, fine.

Why spell it out?

Aren’t you afraid she’s got more than one hairpin?

"Weren’t you running pretty fast? Run for me again, let me see."

A gentleman’s revenge is never too late, even after ten years.

Looks like women are the same.

How long has it been?

At least a month or two, right?

"Then open the door."

Boss Jiang was straightforward too. It’s not that he didn’t want to turn himself in; it’s just that the phone had taken a hit for him, got broken, so he couldn’t call the cops.

"Do you really think you’re funny."

Jiang Chen refused to back down. Even a clay Bodhisattva has some temper, let alone a seven‑foot man standing between heaven and earth.

"Do you really think you’re an Empress? If something happens to me, you’re going to jail. That kid Martial Saint would be basically done for too—forget about civil service exams, and the good state‑owned enterprises would be completely out of the question."

Isn’t that funny?

But the well‑read and knowledgeable Boss Jiang seemed to have ignored a very crucial point—a point that’s basically common sense.

"I’m only his collateral relative. Did you waste your college education?"

Jiang Chen froze, then sank into bottomless embarrassment.

Right!

What a spectacular screw‑up!

Full siblings from the same mother might look close, but in legal terms, they’re only collateral relatives.

Political background checks usually don’t dig that deep.

"I apologize to you."

Racking his brains and racing against time but coming up empty, Boss Jiang decisively changed tactics.

Of course he knew that if an apology were enough, you wouldn’t need the police, so he added, "I’ll let you hit me. Twice is fine too."

There was no howling wind and rain.

The weather remained calm.

"Come here."

Jiang Chen hesitated, but in the end still bravely moved his feet. It’s not like he had any other choice.

But he was smart.

He didn’t foolishly walk all the way up to her.

He stopped ten meters away.

At this distance.

He could see more clearly.

Maybe it was the props as backdrop, but Lan Peizhi sitting on the Dragon Chair was simply peerless in grace.

He wondered what she’d look like sitting on a lotus pedestal?

No, wait.

The lotus pedestal should be more suitable for Daoist Sister.

Sigh~

Miscalculated.

If he’d known earlier.

He should’ve asked Daoist Duanmu to pick him up at the airport.

With her here, at least he’d have some leverage to negotiate.

"Take off your pants."

Just as Boss Jiang was busy reflecting and regretting, her order came down like a blow to the head, leaving him dizzy.

"What?"

He stared, baffled, at the woman ten meters away, who looked as if someone had applied a beauty filter.

Empress special effects.

She was probably the first developer.

Of course.

Not many people would dare to copy this style.

"Take off your pants."

Lan Peizhi repeated. Her frosty face and crimson lips, under the gleaming golden Dragon Chair, were so scorching his eyes almost hurt.

"When I smacked your butt, I didn’t take off your pants."

Sometimes reacting too fast is really not a good thing. Jiang Chen hadn’t done it on purpose; it was just a reflexive retort that bypassed his brain entirely.