After Wang Wei finished speaking, Chen Xueer stepped out from inside.
"Chairman Jiang, you've finally arrived."
A black one-piece gown sculpted her tall, straight figure; the broad-shoulder cut sharpened her aura to a concealed blade. A simple platinum necklace at her throat glinted coldly under the lights.
What should have been a clean, crisp style was transformed into something sensuous by the outrageous weight of her chest.
Yet for all the sensuality of her body,
Chen Xueer carried a distinctive air.
Every gesture held the decisive swiftness of a corporate powerhouse,
wrapped in an elusive mystique no one could read.
She seemed a black leopard poised in the business jungle—elegant, dangerous.
"Manager Chen, thank you for making the trip."
Chen Xueer smiled. "I had no choice. You skipped Xingchen's gala, so I could hardly miss Jiang Tai's."
In truth, Jiang Cheng had never specifically asked her to come.
She simply figured that, since this was his first time hosting such a banquet, he might be unfamiliar with the ropes.
As a subordinate whose loyalty clocked in at one-hundred-and-twenty percent, Chen Xueer dutifully appeared.
Jiang Cheng didn't tease her the way he usually did.
He nodded with deliberate coolness and walked straight inside.
Once through the doors, everyone at the front tables rose.
Among them Jiang Cheng spotted Fang Yuan.
Fang Yuan made no move to speak.
She stood quietly at a distance.
When she noticed Jiang Cheng's gaze, she gave him a discreet nod.
All eyes locked onto Jiang Cheng.
Everyone knew Jiang Tai had been handed to Jiang Jianming's son,
but seeing Jiang Cheng in person, they couldn't help thinking: too young.
He was the same age as most of their own sons seated here.
Though no overt expression showed, the flicker of surprise didn't escape Jiang Cheng's sharp eyes.
Under their scrutiny he showed no fear.
Experience of countless grand occasions and a composure as steady as a temple bell lent him the unhurried bearing of someone born to command.
Calmly he walked to the central seat and sat down.
Only then did he courteously say, "Please, everyone, be seated."
That brief sentence let every person present feel what the aura of an heir truly meant.
Once he took his seat, the air around the room instantly loosened.
Middle-aged executives raised their glasses and stood; the clink of crystal rang out.
"President Jiang has the nerve to blaze new trails at such a young age—truly, the young are fearsome!" Director Zhang of Marketing grinned through a web of wrinkles.
"We'll be counting on you to broaden our old horizons!"
Everyone raised a toast toward Jiang Cheng.
Then Wang Wei said, "President Jiang, before the banquet officially begins, would you like to say a few words?"
Jiang Cheng didn't wave it away; he simply buttoned his jacket and nodded.
Today demanded full formality.
He wore a bespoke top-tier business suit,
hand-made Italian calf-leather shoes.
Though his face was young, the outfit aged him into adulthood.
To most ordinary employees below,
he looked every inch a lavishly dressed young business mogul.
Calmly Jiang Cheng rose. "Then I'll say a few brief words."
The moment he finished, Wang Wei jumped up to cue applause.
Once on the central dais, reporters snapped photos frantically.
Yet they kept their word:
only shots of the venue or of Jiang Cheng from the waist down.
"So young and already the top boss of Jiang Tai—nice to be a rich man's son."
"Yeah, some people are born to enjoy life; the rest of us are born beasts of burden."
"I hear the new boss is capable—he landed the eastern district project. Without that, Jiang Tai wouldn't be expanding and we'd have nowhere to haul bricks."
"Who's the woman beside him? Didn't see her last year—private secretary, maybe?"
"Doesn't look like it. Looks like some company's female CEO…"
…The hall held more than two hundred tables.
Rank aside, workers traded comments on the new boss.
For those on the bottom rung, whether the chairman was Jiang Jianming or Jiang Cheng mattered little—work was work.
Today they were here to eat and to gossip.
And for seasoned gossip hounds, good or bad,
any melon was worth a bite.
Soon Jiang Cheng stood at the podium.
Facing a sea of appraising eyes,
he remained unruffled.
He adjusted the standing microphone slightly,
then tapped it once.
That simple gesture produced a sharp thud,
like a crack of thunder in the hushed room.
The piercing noise silenced the chatter at once.
Next, Jiang Cheng swept the hall with a sharp, authoritative gaze that seemed to pierce every mind.
Wherever his eyes landed, people instinctively quieted, awed by his presence.
At that moment the force he exuded erased all thought of his age;
they saw only the formidable new boss who had just taken Jiang Tai's reins.
Watching from below,
Chen Xueer saw the whole maneuver.
The tension in her face eased, nerves uncoiling.
Admiration glimmered in her eyes.
Most novices would simply start speaking,
or bluntly ask for quiet.
Only seasoned leaders tap the mike first, then silence the room with a commanding look.
Clearly, Jiang Cheng was the latter.