7:00 P.M.
Lower Manhattan, The Sovereign Club.
This private club, housed in a 19th-century bank building on William Street, was Wall Street’s most secretive social stage of fa and fortune.
Now, it belonged to the Tang Jin Family Office.
Beyond the arched windows lay the pitch-black East River and, in the distance, the Brooklyn Bridge.
In the whipping wind and snow, the Statue of Liberty lood in and out of view.
Lin Muxue sat on the sofa, holding a house-special cocktail.
Across from her was Sarah.
All day today, because of Tang Song and Director Jin’s private schedule,
she and Shen Yuyan, as the two assistants, had been unusually free.
After finishing the tedious work of compiling and filing eting summaries, and following Sarah’s enthusiastic invitation, they had co here.
“Cheers!” Lin Muxue raised her glass and took a small sip.
The spicy liquid slid down her throat, kindling a wave of warmth.
She gently swirled the drink and watched the hazy lights refract in it, a look of relief easing across her face.
It’s over, she thought, finally survived it.
According to Sarah, Director Jin would be leaving New York for London tomorrow.
What she’d been worrying about the most hadn’t happened.
The lofty Director Jin really seed to have forgotten this little nobody.
Aside from assigning so slightly tricky docunt work, there were no real tests or reprimands.
Of course—this was the woman controlling a trillion-yuan empire, Golden Misfortune; why would she bother picking on ?
Safe ashore!
Empress Muxue was in high spirits.
Then, with alcohol in her head, certain suppressed thoughts started to stir.
Images of last night at The Peak rose unbidden in her mind:
Tang Song in a suit, playing “Liebesträu” up in the Manhattan clouds.
Those long fingers, that tender profile, that abstinent-yet-sexy Adam’s apple...
“Gulp—”
Lin Muxue tightened her legs reflexively and tipped her head back to swallow another large gulp of cocktail, trying to use the cold liquid to quench the heat rising within.
Her period had basically ended.
Once that oppressive legitimate wife left...
Would she have a chance to taste Tang Song’s body?
Just imagining that scene made her knees go weak.
She narrowed her eyes and glanced toward the brass bar not far off.
Shen Yuyan sat there, her back looking a little lonely, idly chatting with an administrative secretary from Smile Holdings.
“Heh.”
Lin Muxue couldn’t help but snicker inwardly.
Scheming Yuyan, this ti you’ve truly failed.
As one of their kind, she knew Shen Yuyan’s little thoughts far too well.
This trip to New York was definitely intended as a chance to devote herself for advancent.
Especially when they picked him up; the way Shen Yuyan looked at Tang Song made it seem like she wanted to devour him on the spot.
What a pity—the mission failed before it even began.
She was completely steamrolled by Director Jin’s aura; forget making waves, she couldn’t even hold in a pee, and ended up obediently being a recorder.
Watching her rival be eaten alive, Lin Muxue felt even better.
She withdrew her gaze, adjusted to a more elegant posture, and clinked glasses with the blonde, blue-eyed Sarah opposite her.
Curious, she asked, “By the way, Sarah, I see you handling so many matters so expertly. When did you start working with Director Jin?”
Sarah put down her glass; a trace of reminiscence showed in her blue eyes. “2015.”
“What? That early?” Lin Muxue’s expression changed.
2015...
Director Jin should still have been in university then, right?
“Yes.” Sarah nodded, her tone unabashedly admiring. “Back then I was already an analyst at an investnt bank on Wall Street. Director Jin was still studying, but she was already famous in the circles. I was in charge of coordinating her personal accounts and witnessed with my own eyes how she, through several violent market swings, completed near-wild harvests. Her sensitivity to numbers is simply inhuman.”
Sarah paused, then said with aning: “Even then I knew there were only two kinds of people in this world: ordinary people and Mira Jin. So I reached out to her and offered to use all my spare ti to handle administrative and execution work for her for free. It turned out to be the highest-return investnt of my life.”
“I see...” Lin Muxue listened with her mouth slightly open and forgot to sip her cocktail.
No wonder Ms. Smile—she must have been only nineteen then?
At nineteen, she made elite Wall Street analysts bow and follow her.
Is this the world of geniuses?
Compared to that, what was I doing at nineteen?
Probably getting scolded by my counselor for skipping class?
Indeed, comparing yourself to others is infuriating.
Sarah swirled her glass and sighed softly. “Honestly, back then I felt Director Jin was too lonely. She was too perfect. Until she t Mr. Tang...perhaps only soone like him could truly catch her soul.”
Lin Muxue nodded as if she half understood.
Just as she was about to pry further into Director Jin’s private life,
“Bang—” the club’s walnut door was respectfully opened by a waiter.
An elegant, sensual figure stepped through the wind and snow.
A cal cashre coat, a loosely draped scarf, jeans, black-frad glasses.
Although dressed casually and intellectually, the icy nobility that emanated from her bones made the club’s air briefly go still.
She stopped in the doorway, casually removing the scarf and coat and handing them to the bowing attendant.
Then she reached up and took off the black-frad glasses she’d been using to shield her face.
Her clear, deep eyes swept the room.
“Director Jin!”
Several people stood promptly and greeted her respectfully.
Lin Muxue’s face shifted; she scrambled to her feet, anxiety written across her features.
Oh no! The legitimate wife has returned to mount a counterattack!
Wasn’t she supposed to be out with Tang Song? How did she suddenly show up here?
Secretary Jin slightly led the greetings and acknowledged everyone.
She then walked with graceful steps straight to Lin Muxue.
Her beautiful eyes fixed on her deeply.
That look carried no anger, yet it held an all-seeing clarity.
“Sit, let’s chat.”
Secretary Jin’s tone was even as she took the opposite sofa.
Empress Muxue, who had been brash monts before, imdiately shrank into a trembling subordinate.
She sat down nervously, hands placed properly on her knees, not daring to move.
Sarah promptly brought over a warm lemon water and stood respectfully by.
Secretary Jin leaned against the sofa, her long fingers idly touching the cup, eyes on Lin Muxue. “Luna.”
“Y-yes! Director Jin!” Lin Muxue’s heart tightened.
“As Mr. Tang’s personal assistant, you should know your duties, right?”
“Y-yes! Arranging Mr. Tang’s schedule, daily life, and...and...” Lin Muxue stamred.
“Your responsibilities are significant,” Secretary Jin interrupted, “but your thods are too wild, not professional enough. Mr. Tang’s identity is changing, and the people around him must change accordingly. He needs a true steward who can oversee the big picture, understands asset managent, business etiquette, and even crisis public relations.”
She stared at Lin Muxue with a half-smile: “Not a pretty vase who only accompanies him for pleasure.”
Lin Muxue’s face flushed red, then went pale.
Sha and fear washed over her; she lowered her head. “I’m sorry, Director Jin, I...I will work hard to learn.”
Wah wah wah, I knew it!
She’s reprimanding !
She’s not sentencing to go dig mines in Africa, right?
Help, Tang Song!
“No need to be so afraid. I’m not scolding you, nor targeting you.” Secretary Jin glanced at her expression and smiled lightly, leaning in slightly so the pressure eased a bit. “If I really wanted to target you, do you think you could have gotten to where you are? Or even have the chance to be here drinking?”
Lin Muxue shivered and slowly raised her head.
“All right, let’s get to business.” Secretary Jin’s voice returned to neutral. “For the foreseeable future, you will follow . I will personally instruct you and make you more suitable for the current work.”
Boom—!
Lin Muxue’s mind raced with a thousand galloping horses.
W-what?!
Personally instruct ?!
Though inside she was rolling and wanted to throw herself at Director Jin’s knees begging for rcy,
faced with those oppressive eyes,
Lin Muxue squeezed out a grateful smile with sheer survival instinct. “Thank you, Director Jin, for your ntorship! I will not disappoint your expectations!”
Secretary Jin nodded in satisfaction, elegantly lifting the warm lemon water in front of her and taking a small sip.
A flicker of amusent crossed her eyes.
Sotis, besides boring business, finding a bit of fun wasn’t a bad choice.
Not far away, Shen Yuyan faintly heard parts of the conversation and felt a tug of mixed emotions.
If possible, she would very much like to have that opportunity too.
To be personally nurtured at Director Jin’s side—how many people dream of such a chance?
It ant access to the most core comrcial secrets and the top-level trading techniques.
It would also allow one to build powerful relationships.
While she daydread and let her gaze wander,
“Shirley.” The clear voice cut through the jazz background and sounded in her ear.
Shen Yuyan startled back to attention and saw Director Jin already standing, her gaze quietly on her.
“Director Jin! I’m here!” she instinctively straightened, heart aflutter.
Is it finally my turn?
“Co with .”
Without wasting words, Secretary Jin walked toward the club’s dimly lit private discussion area.
Shen Yuyan hurried after her.
Her heels sounded muffled on the thick carpet.
They reached a corner, a private area.
Secretary Jin did not sit but casually leaned against the window-side bar, arms crossed, relaxed yet still imposing.
The light hit her exquisite face from above and to the side, half-lit, half-shadowed—calm and dangerous.
Shen Yuyan stood before her, taut with nerves.
Her eyes held anxiety, hope, and a restrained eagerness to prove herself.
“How do you feel about this trip to New York?” Secretary Jin’s tone was flat, revealing nothing.
Shen Yuyan paused, then organized her thoughts and answered with steady sincerity:
“I saw the world’s breadth and realized my own insignificance. I used to think the sky I saw was my limit, but now I know it was just the mouth of a well. This experience has helped settle and taught a lot. I’m very grateful to Director Jin and Mr. Tang for giving this eye-opening opportunity.”
Proper, humble, but still with depth.
Secretary Jin’s mouth lifted; she looked at Shen Yuyan as if viewing a shadow of soone from her past.
After a mont she said mildly:
“Actually, we noticed you a long ti ago. We even investigated your background, including your close friend, Xu Qing.”
Shen Yuyan’s heart jumped and her voice lowered unknowingly. “W-was it during our ti at Yanke University?”
She had suspected as much—Su Yu had hinted similarly before.
But hearing it confird from Director Jin now still rocked her.
“Mm.” Secretary Jin nodded slightly. “Because I saw photos of you on Tang Song’s private computer. Back then, he seed destined toward you.”
Shen Yuyan pressed her lips tight as waves of complex emotions churned in her chest.
Since her sophomore year, she had idolized Jin ixiao.
That admiration had only grown with ixiao’s achievents, and it had spurred her own ambition to climb.
Now she realized: while she was gazing up at the stars, those stars were already watching her.
And the connecting point was Tang Song.
Secretary Jin studied her for a while, then lowered her head and let a playful smile curl her lips. “You are an interesting person, but your strengths and weaknesses are too obvious.”
Shen Yuyan bit her lower lip, gathered courage, and bowed deeply. “Please instruct , Director Jin.”
“Your origin is humble, but you have exceptional beauty. Won like that face far more temptations and shortcuts during their growth. Many lose themselves and fall. But you didn’t. You have shown strong execution, high emotional intelligence, and a refuse-to-bow drive.”
She looked at Shen Yuyan and gave high praise: “These are your weapons and your capital.”
Shen Yuyan said nothing, listening quietly.
She knew the upcoming “weaknesses” were the main point.
“But precisely because of that deprived and complicated upbringing, you beca overly utilitarian. You crave seizing things and proving yourself. This is the typical cognitive limitation of a scarcity mindset.”
Shen Yuyan’s eyes flashed sharply; her face went pale.
“You...you’re right.”
No one knew herself better than she did.
“Don’t rush to deny yourself.” Secretary Jin softened as she saw Shen Yuyan’s ashen face. “I’m not saying these flaws are necessarily wrong. In the jungle, being utilitarian is survival instinct. If you were just an ordinary employee, I might even call this a strength.”
She leaned forward slightly, fixed Shen Yuyan with her gaze, and enunciated: “But Shirley—”
“If you want to stand by his side and enter this core circle,”
“you must understand that at this level loyalty and vision are worth far more than cleverness.”
“We are never short of clever people.”
Shen Yuyan’s throat tightened; head bowed, she remained silent.
Secretary Jin picked up a glass of red wine and handed it to her.
“Here.”
Shen Yuyan took it with both hands. “Thank you, Director Jin.”
“Ding—” Secretary Jin clinked her glass gently with hers.
The bright chi echoed in the quiet corner.
She took a poised sip; her red lips looked like stained blood.
Eyes narrowed, tasting the wine’s aroma—or perhaps tasting sothing else.
Then she set the glass down and slowly put on her black-frad glasses in an unhurried manner.
Her aura shifted instantly.
The icy pressure receded, replaced by a rational, intellectual, almost gentle scholarly air.
“You are now part of Xuanji Optical World, serving as Chief Ecosystem Officer and his work assistant. Then change yourself properly and show growth. Otherwise, in this system, soone can replace you at any ti.”
She paused and added, “However, I do not dislike your ambition.”
With that, she turned and left.
Only Shen Yuyan remained in the corner.
chanically, she lifted the glass and drained the red wine in one go.
The astringent tannins spread in her mouth, provoking a complex shiver.
December 22, 2023, Friday, Winter Solstice.
Yancheng, North City Garden residential community.
7:30 A.M.
Outside, it was still dim; the winter morning mist shrouded the awakening northern city.
The bedroom was warm and cozy with ample heating.
Cheng Qiuqiu blinked drowsily awake and sat up from the soft bed, letting out a small yawn.
Her circadian rhythm had been completely thrown off these past few days.
Sleeping late, waking late.
The main reason was, of course, Tang Song, who was all the way across the ocean.
Although she didn’t send many ssages so as not to disturb his work, and their chats were intermittent,
even a short “Mm” on the screen, or a shared photo of Manhattan’s snowy scene, could send her into delighted reverie, clutching her phone and flipping over in bed.
Add Su Yu’s earlier words.
It had been like a shot of adrenaline, like a strong liquor, leaving her floating on cloud nine: a bit sleepless, a bit exhilarated.
But that had an advantage:
it helped her adapt to the ti difference in advance.
Paris was seven hours behind Yancheng, so it was still late night there.
She picked up her phone, opened WeChat, and habitually tapped the pinned chat.
She pursed her lips and typed carefully: “Good morning, Tang Song, are you busy today?”
Just after she sent it,
chew chew chew—
[ Tang Song: “Good morning, Qiuqiu, I’m done for today. It’s Winter Solstice; rember to eat dumplings.”]
Reading the ssage, Qiuqiu’s mouth couldn’t help lifting; a pretty flush ward her cheeks in the dim morning light.
She replied quickly: “Mm, I’ll eat them later.”
[ Tang Song: “Also, your flight is this morning, right? Be safe on the way. See you in Paris.”]
See you in Paris.
Those three words were like a mysterious incantation that instantly lit up the light in her eyes.
Su Yu would be there, and Tang Song would be there.
These two people she treasured most in life would be there with her.
For her, this was more than a trip; it felt like a spiritual pilgrimage and a return.
After a little more chatting,
Qiuqiu reluctantly got out of bed and opened the bedroom door.
In the living room she saw a vibrant figure.
Lingling was on a yoga mat doing kneeling back-kicks.
White sports pants, the hip line firm and full as her leg rose and fell, drawing powerful arcs in motion.
“Good morning, Lingling.”
“Huff...morning! Qiuqiu!” Lingling panted and turned with a radiant smile; tiny beads of sweat dotted her forehead, and her grin shone brighter than the winter sun. “Happy Winter Solstice, dear.”
“Happy Winter Solstice.”
They exchanged a few words in the living room.
Qiuqiu walked to the kitchen.
She pulled out two big bags of handmade dumplings sent by Lingling’s mother last night from the fridge.
Pork and pickled cabbage filling.
Auntie said eating these on Winter Solstice is appetizing and not greasy, a good on—“at the ti of season change, good luck stays.”
She put on the pot and brought water to a boil.
As steam swirled, plump dumplings tumbled in the bubbling water, and the kitchen quickly filled with rich aromas of dough and at.
Qiuqiu was lost in thought about Paris as she stared at the ladle when light footsteps sounded behind her.
Then warm arms suddenly wrapped around her waist from behind.
“Aiya!” Qiuqiu was startled and froze.
The hands didn’t let go; instead, they rubbed and wickedly pinched her abdon.
“Pffft—”
Lingling rested her chin on Qiuqiu’s shoulder, teasing with envious affection. “It’s not fair! So unfair, Qiuqiu! Look at you—you’ve been staying up late these days, yet you don’t even exercise and your waist is still so slim, no flab at all. How can it feel so good?”
“Hey, let go, Lingling!”
“Don’t be shy—we’re best sisters. You can touch mine too. My abs took so long to build!”
“Get out of here, what nonsense.”
The two girls tumbled in the narrow kitchen laughing.
Although Qiuqiu was reserved by nature, Lingling, a social whirlwind, had slowly drawn her out; her features were relaxed and affectionate.
A few minutes later, the steaming dumplings were scooped out.
They sat across from each other at the table.
In front of them were special dipping sauces: aged vinegar, light soy, and chili oil.
Qiuqiu picked up a translucent dumpling filled with pickled cabbage, rolled it in the sauce, and bit in.
The crisp pickled cabbage and savory pork burst in her mouth; with the chili oil’s sting, she instantly ward up.
“Delicious! Mom’s dumplings are the best!” Lingling stuffed a big mouthful in, then rembered sothing. “By the way, President Gao hasn’t returned to Yancheng yet, right? I wanted to give her a bag of dumplings.”
“Mm.” Qiuqiu swallowed and nodded. “She’s still in Hangcheng. Yimai Technology’s digital middle platform integration hit a critical phase, and she’s also scouting a few premium mall storefronts, planning to open our flagship store next spring.”
Lingling’s eyes lit up; she waved her chopsticks in the air. “So excited! When the flagship opens and our Heyi couture pieces are in the window, the vibe will rival those big brands! Then as fashion design director, and you as chief art consultant, we’ll attend the ribbon-cutting in our own gowns!”
She painted the future in vivid detail, from store decoration to display lighting design.
Her genuine passion and confidence made her glow.
Qiuqiu listened quietly, occasionally chiming in; her eyes held the sa imagination and joy.
After Double Eleven and Double Twelve, Songi Apparel had finally anchored itself.
Not only was top strear He Yiyi exploding in popularity, the company’s own live-stream matrix was thriving.
More importantly, with Huashang Apparel’s supply chain and a maturing design team, the company now had over 160 staff—a force to be reckoned with in the won’s fashion niche.
If the offline experience store opened successfully, plus that sci-fi-sounding “AI fashion fusion”,
Songi Apparel could truly go far.
They had lived up to Tang Song’s expectations.
After breakfast,
Lingling snatched the dishcloth from Qiuqiu and shoved her out: “I’ll clean up the kitchen! You hurry and pack and change!”
“Also, I’m taking half a day off today to drive you to the airport! It’s Su Yu’s birthday party! Paris! If this gets out, the whole world’s fans will be jealous of you!”
Qiuqiu froze at the door.
She turned to watch Lingling washing dishes, pursed her lips, and finally asked the question that had weighed on her for days:
“Lingling... Su Yu only invited to Paris... you—”
Before she finished,
Lingling, drying her hands, strode over.
She grabbed Qiuqiu’s plump, collagen-filled cheeks and pulled them into a cute face.
“What nonsense are you saying!” Lingling interrupted with a grin, her eyes clear and free of any shadow. “I’m not jealous at all. There was only one slot—you're Su Yu’s diehard fan, so this was deserved and the best arrangent.”
“Besides, we’re sisters.”
She let go and looked at Qiuqiu earnestly. “If you go, it’s like I’m going.”
“Bring back photos of Paris wind and culture, eat proper French food for , and...post lots of photos, especially close-ups of Tang Song—I'll make them my phone wallpaper.”
Qiuqiu bowed her head, eyes glossy. A huge wash of guilt and gratitude rose up.
Compared to Lingling’s openness and generosity, her own petty thoughts felt dark.
She might resent Tang Song buying Lingling a rcedes or the laughter between them, but Lingling continually ward her without reserves.
“Sorry, Lingling...” she whispered.
“Aiya, stop being slow!” Lingling hugged her and got breathy close to her ear, warm breath across the sensitive cartilage, voice suddenly conspiratorial. “Besides, Su Yu is our sister too. We’re family; there will be many chances to hang out later, right?”
Qiuqiu instantly understood Lingling’s suggestive subtext.
Her face flushed bright red.
“You—you say nonsense! I’ll go pack now!”
She shoved Lingling away in a fluster and hurried back to the bedroom.
She closed the door and leaned against it, her heart pounding like thunder.
Her eardrums buzzed.
Su Yu... is also a sister...
Although it felt shaful, once that thought was planted it grew like a weed.
Images of possible futures surfaced uncontrollably:
She and Su Yu clustering around Tang Song, all close and intimate.
For so reason, the thought that should have felt shaful instead made her happy and secretly expectant.
Su Yu had been the perfect goddess she’d admired since thirteen, pasted on her wall like a deity.
If she could share Tang Song’s love with Su Yu,
how unbelievable and wonderful that would be.
After zoning out for a long ti until the heat on her face cooled a bit,
Qiuqiu took a deep breath, slapped her cheeks, and began packing and changing.
Half an hour later.
The bedroom door opened.
When the refreshed Qiuqiu returned to the living room, Lingling, glued to her phone, suddenly looked up; her eyes brightened.
A light gray turtleneck ribbed knit, a dark gray long wool coat, black slim pants, paired with suede boots—
It was the first ti Lingling had seen Qiuqiu dressed so maturely.
Cool, high-end, with a restrained dominant-sister vibe.
“So beautiful! No wonder you’re Little Su Yu! Let sister give you so love.” Lingling squealed and lunged, rubbing against Qiuqiu’s chest. “Mmm—so comfy.”
“Lingling, what are you doing!” Qiuqiu laughed and tried to push her away, careful not to ss up her outfit.
They were teasing when,
“Riiing—” The phone rang.
Qiuqiu glanced at the screen; her expression imdiately tightened.
“It’s Su Yu’s assistant!”
“What? Pick up, pick up!” Lingling stopped joking and urged. “It must be about the Paris trip.”
Qiuqiu steadied her breath and pressed answer: “Hello? Little Xiao Jie, hi.”
On the line ca Cheng Xiaoxi’s crisp professional voice: “Hi, Qiuqiu, it’s . Nothing urgent—just a reminder not to miss your flight. Did you bring your passport and visa? If anything cos up and you can’t make it, contact imdiately.”
“Yes yes, I have my docunts. I’m heading to the airport now.”
“Good.” Cheng Xiaoxi paused and her tone shifted subtly. “Also, a matter to discuss with you.”
Qiuqiu’s heart skipped: “What is it? Is there a change?”
“It’s about your accommodation in Paris—there’s a slight adjustnt.” Cheng Xiaoxi said slowly. “Originally the company arranged for you to stay at The Peninsula. But Miss Su Yu specially instructed that since you are her diehard fan and...ahem...also a friend, it feels too formal to have you stay alone at a hotel. So she hopes you can stay directly at her ho in Paris. Do you mind?”
Qiuqiu’s breathing quickened; her mind blanked for a mont.
Su Yu’s...ho?
Su Yu is letting stay in her private Paris residence?!
“Hello? Qiuqiu? Are you there?”
“Ah! I’m here, I’m here!” Qiuqiu returned to herself, voice trembling slightly. “I—I don’t mind! It’s my honor! Thank you, Miss Su Yu, thank you, Little Xiao Jie!”
“Good. I’ll be at Charles de Gaulle to pick you up on ti and take you there. Have a pleasant trip. Goodbye.”
“Goodbye...”
After hanging up, Cheng Qiuqiu stood there holding her phone, dazed, unmoving for a long while.
Su Yu’s ho...
Does that an Tang Song will live there too?
Will I live there too?
The three of us living together?
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