The Plaza, 15th-floor executive suite.
Shen Yuyan rubbed her throbbing temples and sat up from the wide bed.
Because of the ti difference, she hadn't slept soundly. Her body still ached with the fatigue of long-haul travel, yet the mont she woke, her mind felt unusually alert.
She walked to the window and drew back the curtain.
The bustling, unfamiliar Manhattan skyline filled her view. The trees of Central Park shivered in the winter wind.
Staring outside, her thoughts drifted uncontrollably back to last night.
In the opulent dod hall on the top floor so lavish it felt suffocating.
Excited from arriving in New York, and because old feelings had built up, she had, almost on impulse, followed Lin Muxue and kissed Tang Song.
The situation imdiately spiraled out of control.
He had his arms around both of them, one on his left and one on his right, as if savoring two different desserts. He kissed Lin Muxue again and again, seven or eight tis, like so contest.
Recalling that scene, she felt both embarrassed and frightened.
She was genuinely afraid Tang Song might act on impulse and keep both her and Lin Muxue.
After all, their last intimate mont had been on Xu Qing’s bed.
Back then, her cherished first ti would have been lost in a situation tinged with sothing like an intoxicant.
Just thinking about it made her shake with sha.
Fortunately... Tang Song exercised restraint.
When the atmosphere neared the point of sparks flying, he instead let them go and, with extre gentleness and gentlemanly care, escorted them into the elevator area.
Shen Yuyan breathed a sigh of relief, and at the sa ti a strange feeling rose in her chest.
She had a vague sense that Tang Song was different on this trip to New York.
He seed deeper, harder to read.
And even more peculiar was Lin Muxue.
She seed unusually obedient.
Take last night's classmate get-together: even if she didn’t know Lu Ziming personally, soone like Lin Muxue would have barged in for any reason, maybe throwing a few sarcastic lines.
But this ti she didn't push at all—she didn't even ntion it.
It was as if she was afraid of sothing.
“Sothing's off…”
Shen Yuyan narrowed her eyes and tapped the windowsill with her fingers.
After a mont, she exhaled and stopped dwelling on it.
She turned, flopped onto the sofa, and picked up her phone.
When the screen lit up, several unread ssages popped up.
They were all from her close friend Xu Qing.
[Da Sha Qing: “Yanyan! Yanyan! Are you awake? Quick look! Su Yu posted a giveaway Weibo!”]
[Da Sha Qing: “I bet what you guessed is right. That male ‘big koi’ is absolutely Little Song! No doubt about it!”]
[Da Sha Qing: [WeiboScreenshot.jpg]]
Shen Yuyan's heart skipped a beat as she opened the image.
[Su Yu V: The lucky list for the Paris rendezvous has been drawn! To protect the privacy of the two lucky fans, I won’t disclose their specific details here;
our staff will contact you privately to handle visas and travel arrangents—please keep your phones available!
The turnout exceeded my imagination;
millions of loving ssages overwheld . To give back, besides the two grand koi winners, the studio has added ten additional minor koi slots overnight!
Prizes: one limited-edition jewelry set from my endorsent a signed commorative album set. May this little luck accompany you with happiness.]
Seeing the Weibo, Shen Yuyan's mouth curved into a knowing smile.
So it was.
The so-called “grand koi” had been preselected from the start.
“Protecting privacy,” “contact privately”…
That was just cover for Tang Song’s identity.
The extra ten minor koi were the real prizes given to fans, which made sense.
With Su Yu’s status today, how could she possibly bring two strangers she had never t before to Paris on her birthday?
One of them being a male fan?
Unless her PR team had collectively lost their minds.
After all, Su Yu was Tang Song’s miracle he had cultivated—a jewel on his crown.
Shen Yuyan felt complicated about Tang Song’s “official female idol.”
Part of her wanted to get close to Su Yu to cent her own place in Tang Song’s heart;
another part felt instinctive caution and sha.
Su Yu’s level was too high—top-tier charm honed by the brutality of show business.
And she and Tang Song shared a deep emotional bond that spanned from the mundane to the pinnacle.
Shen Yuyan sighed and opened the chat box to reply: “You only need to know this. Don’t spread it around. Especially Su Yu and Tang Song’s relationship—that’s absolutely off-limits.”
[Da Sha Qing: “Relax! You had to remind ? (eye roll) Su Yu herself warned ! We made a pinky promise!”]
Seeing the phrase “Su Yu sister” made the corner of Shen Yuyan’s eye twitch.
Her recruitnt speed—faster than a rocket.
More rapid ssages flooded in.
[Da Sha Qing: “Also… hehe, look! She sent this prize in advance! Jealous much! (smug) (smug)”]
[Da Sha Qing: [Selfie.jpg]]
Shen Yuyan opened the image and almost laughed aloud.
In the photo Xu Qing struck an exaggerated nouveau-riche pose, chin up, nostrils to the cara.
Her neck, wrists, and earlobes were loaded with jewelry—the exact endorsent set Su Yu ntioned on Weibo.
The diamonds and precious tals glittered under the light;
paired with her triumphant expression, it was absurdly adorable.
Seeing her friend’s carefree joy, Shen Yuyan felt lighter.
Still, she couldn't help replying teasingly:
“So you’re calling her sister now? So affectionate—why not pack your bags and go hang out with Sister Su Yu then? (bye)”
[Da Sha Qing: “What? Jealous? (bad smile) Quick, call Qingqing sister, I’ll make Su Yu arrange a matching set for you when I’m feeling generous!”]
Shen Yuyan snorted and typed quickly: “Whether it’s age, cup size, or butt, I'm bigger than you. Hmph, you want to call you sister? Get outta here!”
[Da Sha Qing: “Screw you, my eyes are bigger than yours, my head is bigger than yours, my mouth is bigger than yours!”]
After a few rounds of teasing with her friend, Shen Yuyan’s spirits were fully restored.
She then rembered the matter at hand.
She opened Lu Ziming’s chat and left a ssage: “By the way, Ziming, where’s the cocktail party today? I want to plan my route.”
After a while, the phone vibrated.
[Lu Ziming: “Sorry, Yuyan, I forgot. I have a rare day off today and just woke up. Wait for a sec, I’ll send the invitation.”
Shen Yuyan: “No worries, wake up first—get so rest, I’m not in a hurry.”]
A few seconds later, a picture arrived.
[Lu Ziming: [eInvitation.jpg]]
Shen Yuyan opened it.
It was a minimalist invitation with old-money flavor, pale gold in tone. A subtle embossed pattern in the background, with KiteBank’s signature logo centered.
[KiteBank · Global Perspective &
Private Social Cocktail]
Ti: 15:00–18:00
Place: The Frick Collection · Garden Courtyard
Dress code: Business casual / Cocktail attire
...
Her fingers flew as she searched for information on “The Frick Collection.”
As the page loaded, amazent deepened in her eyes.
This magnificent Fifth Avenue building had once been Henry Clay Frick’s private residence—the steel baron of Arica—and was one of the few surviving gilded-age mansions in New York.
According to reports, the collection had closed for major renovations in 2020 and remained sealed to the public.
In other words, KiteBank had arranged for this top-tier art sanctuary to open its doors specifically for their afternoon cocktail party?
This event was far more high-end and mysterious than she had imagined.
She didn’t expect Bain Consulting to spend so lavishly.
“Vrrr—”
Her phone vibrated again, interrupting her thoughts.
[Lu Ziming: “By the way, the colleague you ntioned is definitely coming, right? I’ll give them a heads-up.”]
Shen Yuyan: “Yes, confird. You’ll be pleasantly surprised when you et him.”
[Lu Ziming: “Oh? Soone I already know?”]
She let her eyes flit, sending a mischievous reply: “Yeah, an old acquaintance. You’ll know soon enough. (smile)”
She believed Lu Ziming would be shocked—his impression of Tang Song was still from months ago.
...
Yancheng, Lan Feng International apartnts, 30th floor.
Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, night had fallen;
inside, lights glowed warmly.
Cool-toned lighting fell across minimalist furniture, lending a cutting-edge, austere luxury.
High heels clicked on marble, approaching from a distance.
“Miss Jane.” Lily strode in professionally, bowed lightly, and handed over a pad. “As you requested, the special person has arrived in Yancheng and is staying at the hotel closest to the target. Here are his details.”
Xiao Jing took the pad and scrolled with curiosity.
The person in the photo had an almost garish, provocative face—heavy makeup, seductive eyes, and a scorching figure barely contained by a skimpy sequined dress.
Lily explained softly: “His na is Coco, from Thailand. He’s a high-end escort and underground perforr. He runs his own account on foreign platforms and is a sowhat famous transgender influencer. With the right money, he’ll cooperate with any performance.”
“Perfect, very suitable.”
Xiao Jing's eyes lit up—she had found the perfect toy.
“Lily, tell him to start tonight. Go to the bar Li Jingzhong frequents and stage an ‘accidental’ encounter.”
She imitated movie villains and pointed at the screen: “Make sure he doesn’t appear too eager. Play hard to get while pretending a veneer of decency, so that the pervert will chase—make him ask for WeChat himself.”
“Understood.”
“During subsequent chats, be sure to secure evidence of prostitution. Also take pre-arranged flirtatious photos in the bar. When the scandal breaks…” she let out a wicked smile, “before the police burst in, I want Li Jingzhong to beco famous online.”
“Understood, Miss Jane.” Lily recorded without expression. “We’ll contact a few investigative self-dia outlets;
the copy and trending plan are prepared.”
“Good. Start with that. Go.”
Xiao Jing leaned back heavily on the sofa, posing like an ani mastermind villain.
This was the taste of manipulation—so thrilling!
She wore a leopard-print camisole dress paired with black leather boots, giving her otherwise innocent face a hint of seduction.
Lily had just left when the apartnt door opened again.
Anne Kate carried two glasses of whiskey over.
“ntor Anne!” Xiao Jing sprang up, her voice sweet—instantly reverting from villain to obedient pupil.
“Well? Do you like the outfit I picked?” Anne appraised Xiao Jing from head to toe, a hint of appreciation in her gaze.
“I do, ntor Anne.”
Anne handed her a glass and tapped it lightly, her tone languid and dangerous. “Jane, rember: trust no one, especially Su Yu.”
She swirled her drink;
ice-blue eyes glinted coldly. “She and Mira are archrivals;
they’ve been fighting in secret for years, using dirty thods. If you recklessly get too close to Su Yu—well, you cannot afford the consequences.”
Xiao Jing’s expression stiffened. “Mm-hmm, I know.”
So it was palace intrigue!
Good thing I sent those screenshots of my chat with Su Yu to Director Jin.
Even Director Jin seems wary of Su Yu—no wonder she warned repeatedly.
What a thrill—wonder if Director Jin would dare smack down.
At that mont, Anne’s phone buzzed.
[Elizabeth Sloane]
She glanced at the screen, signaled Xiao Jing to be quiet, then answered in fluent English: “Hello, Elizabeth.”
On the other end ca a fast-talking, confident female voice: “Anne, darling. I have good news—just received confirmation. This afternoon at KiteBank’s cocktail, I’ll be reunited with Song.”
Anne took a sip and replied coolly: “Congratulations.”
“You’re not coming?” Sloane’s voice carried disappointnt and expectation. “He’s going to fulfill a promise this ti. I hoped for a bigger audience, especially you.”
“Unfortunately I’m still in Huaxia,” Anne said, eyeing the eager Xiao Jing beside her, a playful curve to her mouth. “Busy training my...new student.”
“Oh, what a pity.” Sloane sighed, then switched tack. “Since you can’t co, could you do a favor? Use your family connections to invite more heavyweight guests to tomorrow’s event—ideally core mbers from Tang Jin Family Office.”
Anne narrowed her eyes and her voice turned cold: “Elizabeth, you should be more discreet. You know Mira hates him being used. If you want to elevate your standing, offer corresponding value rather than these small tricks.”
“Don't be so stern, Anne,” Sloane laughed. “I just want this reunion to be grander.”
Anne pondered and then smiled: “If you want sothing big, why not invite Mira directly and see if she’ll grace you with her presence? If she shows up even briefly, that’s worth more than anything. But I bet she won’t agree.”
There was a two-second silence, followed by Sloane’s laughter. “That’s a crazy and amusing idea. I might… give it a try.”
“Good luck.” Anne was about to hang up, but paused and issued a final cold warning: “And Sloane—don’t set your sights on Song’s body. Play with your escorts if you must, but stay away from him.”
“Oh, Anne, you’re too harsh.” Sloane feigned indignation. “First, I have no such thoughts about Song. Also—please, I’m already forty.”
Anne scoffed and mocked: “Not necessarily. A certain middle-aged Eastern socialite did make a move on him.”
“Oh? Really?” Sloane’s tone instantly turned gossip-hungry. “You an...?”
“No comnt.”
Beep—Anne hung up.
Xiao Jing had heard most of the exchange—speedy though it was, a few keywords registered.
Sloane... escorts... Eastern socialite...
Her expression shifted wildly, her inner world overturning.
An elder sister who likes to pick up boys?! Who is that?
And “Eastern socialite”—who could that be?
Could it be… Aunt Ouyang?!
No way! That poised widow persona… secretly attracted to Lord Tang Song?
This is decadent literature co to life?!
Anne set the phone down and turned to et Xiao Jing’s big curious, excited eyes.
She smiled at her student: “Jane.”
“Here.”
“Weren’t you always saying you wanted to sleep with ?”
Anne stepped closer and slid a long finger down Xiao Jing’s straight black hair until it rested on the pale, delicate nape of her neck.
“Tonight, you’ll stay. I’ll tell you stories about and about Song.”
“Song?” Xiao Jing straightened instantly.
Anne leaned in, red lips nearing her ear, voice low and husky: “He isn’t as simple as he appears. He’s like an abyss forever shrouded in mist—dangerous, but lethally charming. Trust , Jane. After you hear these stories, you will change your view of him.”
Xiao Jing swallowed as her pulse quickened.
Finally—the stories of Lord Tang Song’s rise.
And—
A blonde, blue-eyed devil of a teacher and a black-haired obedient student.
Midnight, secret rooms, forbidden tales...
So thrilling!
...
New York, midday.
A private penthouse in Midtown Manhattan.
“Director Jin, The Plaza suite has been fully arranged. As you directed, the two gowns have been placed in the wardrobe.”
“KiteBank’s cocktail begins at 3 pm. Several core mbers of the family office in New York will arrive on ti to et President Tang.”
“Sarah has t with Ms. Sloane and is warning her as you requested…”
“Mm.” Secretary Jin inclined her head slightly, voice composed. “Keep the cocktail private. Avoid drawing excessive dia attention.”
“Understood.”
“All right—when you head down, please arrange this afternoon’s beauty treatnts.”
“Yes.”
Shangguan Qiuyas bowed and withdrew.
When the door closed softly, the room fell quiet.
Automatic blackout curtains slid, shutting out the noon sun and plunging the room into a dim hush.
Secretary Jin took off her jacket and slipped under the soft covers.
Her hands folded over her abdon as she closed her eyes.
She wasn’t usually an afternoon napper, but jet lag and worsening sleep quality from overthinking forced her to rest to keep her skin in good condition.
Consciousness drifted down into darkness and then into dreams.
Top floor of Smile Holdings headquarters.
Night was black outside;
skyscrapers clustered in the cold wind.
Two figures stood side by side by the huge floor-to-ceiling window, overlooking the city like a river of stars.
“By the end of this quarter, Tang Jin Family Office has completed asset allocation across six major currency zones. Our SPV structure in offshore islands successfully avoided the latest round of scrutiny and liquidity reserves have reached a historical peak. Also, our short position plan on European energy…”
After succinctly and calmly reporting, she closed the folder and fell silent.
She glanced at the silhouette beside her: “President Tang, are you returning to Yancheng tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
“I look forward to the day you return.”
He did not reply.
A heavy quiet filled the air;
only their soft breaths were audible.
She stopped speaking and instead reveled in the stillness.
This feeling—just the two of them sharing supre power, wealth, and secrets—intoxicated her.
After an unknown interval, he suddenly spoke, his voice as if from a distant shore: “Secretary Jin.”
“Mm.”
“After all these years, have you ever suspected there’s a secret about ?”
Her pupils shrank and her lips tightened. She said nothing—this was her deepest taboo, the place she dared not touch.
“Heh, I knew it. Although you never asked, you must have had many guesses.”
“I… don’t really care about those things.”
“What do you care about then?”
She drew a deep breath, turned, and looked him in the eyes. “For the true you, what is my significance? Why did you choose then?”
Their gazes locked.
He leaned slightly forward so she could see herself reflected in his pupils.
After a long mont, he smiled.
His smile held a tenderness she had never seen.
“Ask in person next ti,” he said. “I’ll tell you then.”
He turned and walked into the dark, his silhouette blurring as tendrils of gray mist swirled around him.
He walked a few steps, stopped without turning. “By the way, when we et again, smile at more.”
The mist rolled, slowly swallowing his back.
Click, click, click—the restrained, crisp sound of shoes quickened into urgency.
She took a few steps, then began to run recklessly.
“Wait! Can’t you just not walk—”
She reached out;
her fingertips brushed the cold fabric of his coat and his body dissipated like smoke into nothing.
“Huff—”
In the dim room, Secretary Jin jolted awake.
Cold sweat dotted her temples.
The dream again.
She glanced at her phone;
forty minutes had passed.
Wiping her brow, she unlocked the phone with trembling fingers and opened a secured private album.
Her finger scrolled past 2023, 2022...
All the way down to 2016.
A slightly blurred photograph: a simple café with sunlight falling across a boy’s profile.
He was eighteen.
The first ti she’d seen him in reality.
The beginning of everything.
“Why did you choose ? Was I special to you?”
“I’m finally going to see you again.”
Her fingertip trailed the screen.
So ti later, there was a knock.
Secretary Jin quickly composed herself and regained her calm.
“Co in.”
Shangguan Qiuyas pushed the door and entered with the schedule. “Director Jin, the beauty team has arrived downstairs and will co up in about five minutes.”
“Good, I know.”
Shangguan hesitated, studying her boss’s expression, and reported cautiously: “One more thing—Ms. Sloane just called. She’s t with Mr. Schmidt and hopes you can attend this afternoon’s cocktail at The Frick.”
Director Jin’s hand paused mid-fix of her hair.
Her expression shifted subtly.
After a silence she shook her head. “The shareholders’ eting hasn’t started. Tell Sloane I’m pleased with her achievents and there’s no need for her to be present.”
Shangguan saw the dissonance in her boss’s words and, emboldened, urged: “Director Jin, I think it should be fine. President Tang will be present as a shareholders’ representative, so eting at the cocktail before the business dinner is logically coherent. Even exposure would be acceptable. Ms. Sloane is rather unscrupulous—she might do sothing impulsive or overly intimate to attract attention if she sees President Tang. If you attend personally, we can control the entire situation.”
Secretary Jin listened quietly and said calmly: “Rules are rules.”
His rules.
Reason compelled her to restrain and wait.
“...All right.” Shangguan sighed regretfully. “I’ll reply to Ms. Sloane.”
She turned and walked toward the door.
Click-clack—the footsteps faded.
“Wait!”
Just as Shangguan’s hand reached for the doorknob, a hurried voice called from behind.
She froze and turned.
Secretary Jin looked down at her palm.
...
At the sa ti.
The Plaza’s top-floor T.J. Suite master bedroom.
Tang Song had showered and ticulously fixed his hair.
He stepped into the wardrobe.
Opening the climate-controlled display case, his gaze fell on the deep suit.
[Outfit - Mist Gentleman]
Since he had acquired a new piece of equipnt and would et tomorrow, his impatience grew.
He decided to try it on.
He pressed his lips together and carefully lifted the garnts.
A pristine white bespoke shirt hugged his skin;
each button fastened with precision.
Next ca neatly tailored trousers, the deep-blue vest, jacket, and the tie.
Finally, the polished whole-cut Oxford shoes.
Tang Song walked to the full-length mirror.
In the reflection he stood tall—broad shoulders, narrow waist, like a sword sheathed.
The deep blue suit looked almost black under the lights, yet at the folds it shone with star-like glints.
Elegant, mysterious, noble, unfathomable.
It was, without doubt, the finest suit he had ever worn and the most fitting for his current identity.
He picked up the final obsidian lapel pin from the island and, with a slight motion, pinned it precisely at the collar.
“Click.”
With a light sound, the outfit was complete.
A strange sensation surged through him.
Physique 3, Agility 3, Comprehension 1, Get!
His body felt incredibly comfortable and light, as if an invisible thermal field wrapped him, shielding him from external cold and heat.
Then his perception subtly shifted.
The world seed to be veiled in an invisible mist—hazy and profound. Outside noise was cut off, his thinking beca ice-clear and calm, and all emotions were perfectly concealed behind that layer of fog.
Tang Song looked at himself in the mirror and couldn’t help the image of Secretary Jin rising unbidden in his mind.
Is this... what she imagined of in that first dream?
A tide of mories surged.
In 2016, on the eve of his college entrance exam, he connected with her in dreams and t in the mist.
For him, back then, it had truly been a “dream.”
Even after retrieving mories via the Feather of mory, the dreamlike experiences still felt not entirely real to him.
This Secretary Jin—an ideal born from the depths of his soul and recruited across ti by the system—was his true type;
she accompanied him from zero to where he stood now, and carried his deepest emotional projection of that “ga world.”
Tomorrow morning at eight they would et.
For him, this was a real-life encounter spanning seven years.
Thinking of that, the long-suppressed emotion swelled.
He wanted to see her now.
Bang—his heart began to pound violently.
Not from nervousness or fear,
but from a pull deep in his soul, as if sothing unseen was calling him.
Then a crisp system chi sounded in his ear:
“Ding! [Rare Outfit - Mist Gentleman] hidden attribute [Mist] triggered. You have blurred the boundaries of the rules.”
“Ding! Role interaction mission [Smiling Shareholders’ eting] notes have been updated.”
[Note 2: Interaction ti begins when KiteBank’s cocktail starts and continues until the shareholders’ eting concludes. During this period, the player must cautiously portray the identity of Silent Crown representative, yet may interact with Secretary Jin at a social distance beyond conventional norms in a reasonable and non-character-breaking manner...]
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