When Zhao Linger suddenly teased him, Jiang Cheng was speechless.
Little Xia had already silently carried the finished sandwich to the dining table.
Though she didn't speak, at Zhao Linger's words her face visibly flushed.
Jiang Cheng walked over, looked down, and stroked her long, straight black hair.
The touch seemed to give Little Xia the wrong idea.
Her hands automatically reached for Jiang Cheng's trouser pocket.
Seeing Little Xia take the initiative, Jiang Cheng could only stand still.
His original intention had simply been to offer some comfort.
He had no other meaning, okay?
From the start Jiang Cheng had noticed that, though the Girl was always shy, she actually craved his body.
Once her hands moved, Jiang Cheng lost all desire to banter with Chen Xueer and Zhao Linger.
All he wanted was to end the call—fast.
He didn't even have the patience to listen as the two of them reported the Conglomerate's final closing profits line by line.
Ten-odd minutes later, Little Xia emerged from the bathroom covering her mouth.
Jiang Cheng quipped, "Why are you staring at me?? Don't tell me you're craving my body again?? Not enough of a taste just now??"
At that, Little Xia pursed her lips—a rare sight.
With a gentle tug Jiang Cheng pulled her onto his firm, powerful thigh.
Then he snatched the sandwich from the table and bit off a huge piece.
The moment he tasted it, Jiang Cheng's face contorted in exaggerated delight. "Mmm, amazing! I never knew you had such a gift for cooking!"
The lavish praise shot like a ray of sunshine straight into Little Xia's heart.
Her already bright eyes sparkled even more brilliantly.
R-really?" Little Xia whispered, hardly daring to believe.
As the words left her, she shyly lowered her head, opened her cherry lips, and delicately nibbled the sandwich Jiang Cheng had bitten.
Yet after that bite, her expression suddenly fell.
Sigh, I think I put too little dressing in; the flavor isn't rich enough."
Jiang Cheng replied, "Tastes fine to me. By the way, the first time we met you said you're from Garzê, Sichuan—what do people there usually eat for breakfast?"
Feeling his hands roam about her waist, Little Xia instinctively tensed her hips.
"Back home we usually have tsampa—flour mixed with butter plus a bowl of butter tea. You knead it by hand and it's ready; very convenient..."
"Knead it by hand??"
Seeing his surprise, Little Xia nodded, embarrassed.
The method instantly reminded Jiang Cheng of a certain South-Asian country.
Inwardly he muttered: Don't understand, but I respect it.
Speaking of Garzê, Jiang Cheng again thought of their tourism ambassador Ting Zheng.
The man had gone viral with a seven-second video.
Barely ten days later he launched his first livestream.
Half an hour in, viewership neared four million, placing third site-wide.
His fame came from his uniquely dark skin, clear eyes, pure smile, and ethnic attire representing his region.
Anyone in showbiz knows:
'Modest fame can be bought; true fame is destiny.'
Many stars spend fortunes to debut, resources aplenty, yet never catch fire.
But that year Ting Zheng's popularity eclipsed most celebrities; variety shows and endorsements chased him.
The reason: the public had grown tired of cookie-cutter Internet Celebrity faces and polished stars.
This return-to-authenticity aesthetic crashed into view.
Seeing Jiang Cheng search Garzê while holding her, Little Xia felt warmth surge inside.
She said, "Our area is pretty underdeveloped in Sichuan; there probably isn't much online."
As she predicted, TikTok showed only two or three clips about the region.
Not even Ting Zheng's name came up.
At that, Jiang Cheng glanced at Little Xia.
Her beauty wasn't conventional. Though pricey skincare and city life had lightened her once-dark skin
compared with Zhou Ying and Qiao Yinyin's fair complexions, Little Xia had a healthy wheat tone.
Under thick lashes, those uniquely mountain-child clear eyes were captivating.
If she wore ethnic clothes and promoted her hometown like Ting Zheng
the post of tourism ambassador might have been hers.
When Jiang Cheng shared the idea with her
she agreed without hesitation.
"You're willing?"
He had expected at least a pause—like when he suggested learning to drive last night.
Just as she'd accepted his three hundred thousand, Little Xia felt she couldn't refuse.
Though she didn't fully grasp what Jiang Cheng meant
it sounded like a step forward.
Feeling his breath at her back, she said, "I always remember what you told me, especially: 'The world won't respect you just because you try; to earn respect, you must first grow strong.'"
She went on, "I was never an obedient, resigned child, but years of pressure from parents and my environment made me afraid to dream. When I first entered society, constant setbacks sapped my confidence; I just wanted to hide in the dark and live quietly."
Lately, with the chance to study, I read a line that fits me perfectly."
It said: I could have endured the darkness, had I never seen the light."
You've shown me this prosperous world; I want to strive, to change, to grow strong. Whatever opportunity comes, I want to try."
Seeing the hope and ambition in her eyes, Jiang Cheng felt oddly delighted.
Her look suddenly reminded him of superstar "Zhao Xiaodao."
For people from backgrounds like theirs
aside from knowledge changing fate, only capital-driven ventures or fame remain.
Clearly the first path was closed to Little Xia now.
Money could be thrown, books could be read, but talent can't be bought.
As for capital ventures, for Jiang Cheng that was effortless.
Yet money alone can't guarantee building a successful industry—
if it could, Wang Congcong and Qin Fen wouldn't still be stuck in start-up mode.
If Little Xia could become her hometown's tourism ambassador like Ting Zheng
her personal wealth and social standing would skyrocket.
Jiang Cheng's hand sliding along her waist flushed her cheeks.
She quickly averted her eyes and shook her head. "You're not like any man I've ever met."