As expected, when Jiang Cheng simply sat down, Xu Jiayin's expression instantly stiffened.
The smile that had been on his face darkened until it looked like the bottom of a scorched pot.
Xu Zhi, seated near Wang Congcong, was even more visibly aggrieved.
His father had just become China's richest man, yet his own seat was still below several elders.
Jiang Cheng had actually brazenly planted himself right there.
Watching the delicate tension play out, Huang Sheng's expression wasn't pleasant either.
If Jiang Cheng had come today merely as a congratulatory guest, it wouldn't matter how much he annoyed Xu Jiayin—Huang Sheng could stay out of it.
But right now, Jiang Cheng was his business partner.
If this incident left Xu Jiayin feeling slighted, it could only add uncertainty to the project they were about to launch.
And that meant extra risk.
Seeing Jiang Cheng's unbridled attitude—and Richest Man Wang backing him—Huang Sheng sighed inwardly.
Both sides were people whose goodwill he needed to cultivate.
Meanwhile, guests at nearby tables began to whisper.
In their business circle, awareness of hierarchy ran especially high.
In recent years, Daheng Group had taken huge strides forward.
Even Jack Ma, at the height of his fame, behaved with modest deference before Xu Jiayin.
Yet today, a junior like Jiang Cheng sat between Richest Man Wang and Xu Jiayin.
No one could make sense of the seating.
Everyone had assumed Hetai was the lead partner in the Hetai-Star alliance.
After all, Hetai's reputation eclipsed Star's.
But on closer look, Huang Sheng was three seats away from Richest Man Wang.
He didn't even merit the adjacent chair.
Reading his father's mood, Xu Zhi rolled his eyes and asked Jiang Cheng,
"May I ask what your family does, President Jiang?"
The question sounded casual, yet carried layers of meaning.
The roomful of business elites caught every nuance.
They all wondered: what background let Jiang Cheng sit between Richest Man Wang and Xu Jiayin?
What kind of family stood behind him?
Everyone held their breath, leaning in to listen.
The Xu father-and-son pair had come tonight for one reason: Richest Man Wang would attend.
With all the property giants of Beijing gathered, they wouldn't miss it.
As this year's real-estate standard-bearer, Xu Jiayin had to appear in triumph.
Just as every major internet event drew Jack Ma and therefore Ma Huatong.
They were rivals yet inextricably linked.
Ordinary dinners were impossible to arrange, but such banquets offered a perfect chance to mingle.
They could spar and still read the market's pulse.
Xu Zhi's gaze bored into Jiang Cheng.
Unruffled, Jiang Cheng replied, "I'm from an ordinary family—hardly worth mentioning beside all of you."
To most guests, it sounded like routine modesty.
After all, "penniless Wang Jianling, common-born Ma Huatong, oblivious-to-his-wife's-beauty Liu Qiangzi, regretful-founder Jack Ma"—calling oneself ordinary was the standard line.
But to the Xus, the words grated.
Xu Jiayin had genuinely risen from nothing.
Even after achieving a stunning reversal, the label "steel-mill worker" still clung to him.
Hearing this, Xu Zhi's face darkened further.
Beside him, Xu Jiayin reflexively tugged the Hermès belt at his waist, bolstering his confidence.
Xu Zhi spoke again, voice laced with mockery: "Ordinary? Everyone knows Wang Congcong started with five small targets. How much did you begin with to reach tens of billions so fast?"
By now he no longer hid his attack.
Seeing Wang Congcong about to interject, Richest Man Wang frowned and told Xu Zhi bluntly, "Boy, why pry into other people's money? If you want some, your father has plenty."
Xu Zhi refused to back off. "Uncle Wang, I'm just curious. We're exchanging start-up stories. Jiang Cheng, how do you explain the huge sums you've thrown around?"
He even dropped the polite "President Jiang," calling him by name.
The whole room waited for the answer.
Even Wang Lin watched with anticipation.
They were all about the same age.
Though Jiang Cheng had outpaced them socially, Xu Zhi and Wang Congcong were still sons of the richest men.
Without real power yet, they found it hard to accept Jiang Cheng's central seat unless his background matched theirs.
Jiang Cheng didn't lose composure.
He curled his lip in disdain. "I don't owe you my ledger. Unlike Daheng, I didn't empty-glove the banks."
The remark, delivered lightly, stabbed like a sword into Xu Zhi's heart.
His face flushed; anger and resentment flared in his eyes as if they might ignite.
Wang Lin watched quietly, a flicker of admiration in her gaze.
Seeing his son press Jiang Cheng, Xu Jiayin's earlier delight froze on his face.
His expression turned grim, his stare settling on Jiang Cheng with open displeasure.
To mock Daheng Group's funding in public was a direct provocation—an insult to the entire Xu family.
And indeed, Jiang Cheng had spoken the truth: Daheng Group's money came through less-than-glorious means.
They had levered bank loans by every possible trick and funneled the cash into property projects.