I take another sip of champagne and lean slightly against the window fra, watching the gala continue around .
People talking and laughing and networking, the evening progressing exactly as it’s supposed to.
And I stand here alone with a drink I don’t want, replaying that conversation over and over, trying to figure out what I could have said differently, knowing there’s nothing that would have changed the outco.
"Runze!"
The voice cuts through my thoughts, bright and enthusiastic.
I turn.
Mr. Kim is heading toward , Mr. Wei beside him as always, and there’s soone else with them.
Another oga, around my age maybe, wearing a suit that’s expensive without being flashy, his posture relaxed in a way that suggests he’s completely comfortable in spaces like this.
"There you are!" Mr. Kim reaches first, his smile warm. "We’ve been looking for you. I wanted to introduce you to soone."
"This is Ling Yue," Mr. Wei adds, gesturing to the man beside them. "The friend we ntioned at your wedding, rember?"
Oh.
Right.
The friend they’d asked about when I made that incredibly embarrassing comnt about snagging Bael with my beauty alone.
My face heats up slightly at the mory.
"It’s nice to et you," I say, extending my hand.
Ling Yue takes it with a firm handshake, his smile easy and genuine. "Likewise. I’ve heard a lot about you."
"Nothing too terrible, I hope."
"On the contrary." His eyes have a hint of amusent. "Mr. Kim was very enthusiastic about your... confidence."
Oh god.
They told him about the beauty comnt.
Of course they did.
"Well," Mr. Kim says, practically vibrating with excitent, "I was just telling Ling Yue about what you said at the wedding, you know, about how you didn’t do anything special, you’re just very beautiful?"
"I rember," I say, wishing I could sink through the floor.
"And it turns out you were absolutely right!" Mr. Kim continues, completely oblivious to my mortification. "Ling Yue here actually did the exact sa thing! He snagged the heir to DingShan Real Estate with nothing but his natural charm!"
Ling Yue laughs, not embarrassed at all. "I wouldn’t put it quite like that, but yes, Jin Hao and I did et in... unconventional circumstances."
"DingShan Real Estate," Mr. Wei adds helpfully, like I might not know. "One of the largest developers in the eastern region. Very impressive."
"Congratulations," I manage, genuinely aning it despite the secondhand embarrassnt crawling up my spine.
At least soone else succeeded with the "just be beautiful" strategy.
Makes feel slightly less ridiculous about that comnt.
Slightly.
"Thank you." Ling Yue’s smile is warm, easy. "Though I have to say, landing Wuchen Bael is arguably more impressive. He’s notoriously difficult to pin down."
"Is he?" I take another sip of champagne to avoid having to elaborate on that.
"Oh absolutely," Mr. Kim jumps in. "Before you, there were rumors he’d never settle down. You must have really caught his attention."
If only they knew.
If only they knew I caught his attention by getting blackout drunk and seducing him at a bar, then accidentally getting pregnant.
Very romantic.
Very impressive.
"How are you enjoying the gala so far?" Ling Yue asks, smoothly steering the conversation away from relationship origins. "Your first spouse circle event, isn’t it?"
"It is," I say, grateful for the subject change. "It’s been... educational."
"That’s a diplomatic way of putting it." His eyes crinkle slightly with humor. "These things can be exhausting. All the networking, the careful conversations, everyone trying to figure out where you fit in the hierarchy."
"Exactly."
Mr. Wei nods knowingly. "But you’re doing wonderfully. Everyone’s been talking about how well you’re handling yourself."
I doubt that’s entirely positive talk, given that half the room probably watched have that painful exchange with Feifei, but I appreciate the sentint.
The conversation flows easily after that, moving from topic to topic with the kind of practiced ease that cos from people who attend these events regularly.
Mr. Kim shares an amusing story about a charity auction mishap, Mr. Wei adds comntary, Ling Yue throws in observations that make everyone laugh.
I find myself relaxing slightly, the champagne helping, the distraction welco after the heaviness of the conversation with Feifei.
Mrs. Zhou appears at so point, joining our circle with her usual warmth. "I see you’ve all found each other. Wonderful!"
"We were just getting to know Ling Yue better," Mr. Kim says.
"Ah yes, Jin Hao couldn’t make it tonight?" Mrs. Zhou asks.
Ling Yue shakes his head. "Work ergency. Sothing about a contractor pulling out of a major project at the last minute."
"That’s DingShan for you," Mr. Wei says. "Always sothing happening."
"Right," Ling Yue continues, "speaking of DingShan, they’re launching a competition soon that might be interesting. A design competition for a master-planned community on the outskirts of the city."
My attention sharpens imdiately, though I keep my expression neutral, taking another casual sip of champagne like I’m only half-listening.
"A design competition?" Mrs. Zhou asks with polite interest.
"Mm. They’re looking for innovative residential concepts, sustainable community planning, that sort of thing. Open to both established firms and independent designers." He pauses. "The winner gets their design built and a rather substantial prize, from what Jin Hao ntioned."
Architecture.
A real project.
A competition that’s open to independent designers.
My mind is already racing, already thinking about possibilities, concepts, the kind of design that could win sothing like that.
"How interesting," I say, keeping my tone light. "When does it open?"
"The registration closes in two weeks, I believe. Submission deadline is two months out."
I file that information away imdiately.
Two weeks to register, two months to submit.
"That sounds quite competitive," Mr. Wei observes.
"It will be," Ling Yue agrees. "But Jin Hao is excited about it. He wants to see what innovative ideas people bring."
The conversation moves on to other topics after that, but my mind stays locked on the competition.
A master-planned community.
Residential design at scale.
Sustainable concepts.
Exactly the kind of project the original Runze would have obsessed over.
The architecture student who dropped out in his third year, the one who left sketches half-finished and dreams half-buried under family expectations and self-destruction.
At first, sketching had felt strange, like I was borrowing soone else’s abandoned dream.
But sowhere along the way, it stopped feeling borrowed.
The quiet satisfaction of clean lines, the way space and structure started to make sense, the strange peace that ca with creating sothing from nothing.
Maybe the talent started with him.
But now, the want felt like mine.
The rest of the evening passes in a blur of conversations, introductions, the kind of networking that I’m starting to realize is the actual purpose of these events.
Mrs. Zhou introduces to a few more people, all of them polite and interested, so more genuine than others.
Mr. Kim and Mr. Wei stay close, their enthusiasm infectious, making introductions easier than they would be otherwise.
Ling Yue fits into the group naturally, and I find myself actually enjoying talking to him, discovering we have similar taste in art, similar frustrations with the sotis suffocating formality of these circles.
He ntions his number at so point, suggesting we should get coffee soti, and I agree easily because he seems genuine in a way that’s rare here.
By the ti the gala finally starts winding down, my phone has several new contacts.
Mrs. Zhou, obviously, from before.
Mr. Kim and Mr. Wei, exchanged during a lull in conversation.
Ling Yue, added with the coffee suggestion.
A few others whose nas I’ll probably need to look up later to rember who they are.
I stare at the list for a mont as I’m waiting for the car, processing.
Are these... friends?
No.
Probably not.
Friends is too strong a word for people I t at a networking event.
But connections.
Definitely connections.
The kind that might be useful later, the kind that could open doors or provide opportunities or at the very least make these events less miserable to attend.
The kind I’ll need if I’m actually going to try for that design competition.
Liang Feng appears with the car, and I slide into the back seat, exhausted in a way that’s both physical and emotional.
The drive ho is quiet, the city passing by outside the windows, and I lean my head back against the seat.
The evening replays in fragnts.
Feifei’s hurt.
Xue Lian’s needling.
The easy conversation with Ling Yue and the others.
The competition.
That last one sticks, circling back over and over.
A real architecture project, a chance to actually design sothing that could be built.
Sothing that’s mine, not tied to the Wuchen na, not dependent on Bael or this marriage or any of the complicated ss my life has beco.
Just design and skill.
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