Once boarding began, the group stepped onto the Wang family's private jet behind the warm smiles of the Flight Attendants.
Jiang Cheng watched the two gift-distributing stewardesses bustle about, his desire to buy a private jet burning even hotter.
Though he'd flown first-class several times, he'd never once run into those legendary high-caliber stewardesses.
Clearly, today's pair were stunning; even without activating the Character Scanning System, Jiang Cheng could tell both scored at least 90 points.
Truly worthy of top-tier private-jet cabin crew.
The two women softly briefed them on every safety detail, their voices melodious, their service meticulous and soothing.
Even more delightful than first-class hospitality.
With a private Bedroom on board, if you could indulge in a two- or three-person extreme sport at several thousand meters en route abroad, the flight would be unforgettable.
Settled into the plush seat, Jiang Cheng nodded approvingly. "Nice—much comfier than the usual first-class chair."
Seeing his satisfaction, Wang Congcong began explaining the cabin's layout.
"Over there's the bar, sofa, and TV; you can watch shows in here, and there's Wi-Fi—streaming a match won't lag at all."
"The back is the Galley; they can prep Chinese, Western, or any cuisine you pre-order."
"Three Bedrooms this way—one master, two guest—each with its own shower so you can rinse off and sleep."
Qi Yuan glanced around and quickly said, "Three Bedrooms, London's eighteen hours nonstop—so pairs later. I'm bunking with Brother Cheng."
Wang Congcong chuckled. "Relax, these chairs swivel 360° and recline flat—same as first-class beds."
Qi Yuan fiddled with one and exclaimed, "Alright, alright—you rich folks sure know how to live. Sometimes I wish I were just an ordinary second-gen rich kid, spared the daily charade of what I can't do."
Jiang Cheng patted his shoulder. "Cut the act—your family's strict, but you own stuff like this. Ordinary second-gen? Impossible. Enjoy the next couple years; once your dad finishes networking, you'll head back to work."
"Old Qi, two years is plenty. When you hit our age you'll find you can't play even if you want to," Wang Zheng added consolingly.
"Exactly—look at us, drifting in a daze, reeking of money."
Though Qi Yuan had the least cash flow among them, his family's status was something most couldn't reach in generations.
And their private jet saw far more use than an ordinary family's.
Besides, landing a job in China's civil service isn't easy.
Every post is a single carrot in a single hole; many are pre-decided.
Ordinary kids must pass layer after layer of screening, timed by seniority.
Even if you get in, you start at the very bottom.
Base pay is pitiful, and you need at least five years before any chance of Transfer.
Many never live to see that chance.
Only if someone above quits or gets promoted might you fill the seat.
Without connections you're just the errand runner, forever pouring tea and sweeping floors.
With Qi Yuan's background, even grassroots work is gold-plating.
Two years at the base, then a few swift jumps via family ties—child's play.
Qi Yuan might look less flashy, but that's only surface-deep.
People like them show you merely the tip of the iceberg.
Not wanting to dwell on the sensitive topic, Qi Yuan waved it off and changed the subject.
"Forget it—are those two stewardesses your personal crew?"
Wang Congcong instantly read his meaning.
He grinned and shook his head. "Each flight the airline assigns them; I've never seen these two before."
Qi Yuan's brows leapt in excitement. "So I have a shot?"
He turned to Jiang Cheng. "Brother Cheng, which one do you rate?"
Ever since Jiang Cheng beat Wang Zheng in that bet, Qi Yuan now reflexively asks his opinion on Girls.
Jiang Cheng does have a sharp eye.
He scanned the two stewardesses with the Character Scanning System.
The result surprised him: one had a privacy value of 1, the other only 3.
For their age and profession, those were low numbers.
Jiang Cheng told Qi Yuan, "Both look great to me."
Seeing Qi Yuan's hungry gaze, Wang Congcong envied him. "Weren't you up playing till midnight? Don't abuse youth—take care of yourself."
"How'd you know he was up late—unless you two were into… group sports?"
Wang Congcong shoved Jiang Cheng. "Get lost—I'm not into that. The guy was texting me about the Victoria's Secret Show at midnight."
Qi Yuan beamed proudly. "Old Wang tipped me off to a TCM doc; some tonics keep you strong. Look at your dark circles and eye bags—classic over-indulgence. Next time I go, I'll bring you."
Jiang Cheng expected Wang Congcong to curse, but his eyes lit up instead.
He nodded without protest. "Sounds good—let's go together."
"Brother Wang, with that nose I must've misread you?"
At Jiang Cheng's words, Qin Fen and Wang Zheng recalled the spa-day sight of his donkey-sized asset and paled.
Wang Zheng spoke first, tone tinged with envy. "Easy, you two are only eighteen—prime stamina. Hit our age and you'll realize how vital it is to preserve your health."
Qin Fen chimed in. "Exactly—don't flaunt your youth while you've got it."