Xu Zhi forced a broader smile as he raised his glass. "Relax! While I, Xu Zhi, have meat on my plate, my brothers won't be left with just soup!"
He kept his face flushed with the confident glow of a man who had everything mapped out, fielding the flattery and clamor around him.
Yet if you looked closely, the corners of his smile were stiff, and deep in his eyes lurked a flicker of distraction and unease.
As he tilted his head back to drink, his gaze instinctively drifted toward the giant screen.
Pre-market volume was exploding, yet the share price oscillated in a subtle, eerie calm—the stillness before a storm.
Over the past few days he'd pulled strings, even used offshore channels to quietly verify.
Facebook's metaverse strategy was indeed being released ahead of schedule; the pessimistic tone of the related tech report was already circulating in a small circle.
Every piece of intel matched the "secret" he'd overheard and the "ambush" script he'd written for himself.
So why… the closer he got to the reveal, the more it felt as if an invisible fist were squeezing his heart?
It was like standing on a cliff, treasure in sight across the chasm, yet feeling the rock beneath his feet begin to loosen.
A memory flashed—Jiang Cheng's indifferent, languid gaze in the nightclub.
Shen Shuang's panicked evasion, Jiang Churan sitting quietly beside Jiang Cheng… these fragments stabbed like fine needles, pricking the very source of his anxiety.
Had things gone too smoothly?
Would a man like Jiang Cheng really let crucial intel be "overheard" in public so easily?
"Young Master Xu?" A call from beside him jerked him out of his daze. "Spacing out? Already planning tonight's victory party? Haha!"
Xu Zhi snapped back, smothering the doubts churning inside, replaced them with an even flashier grin, and downed the rest of his drink.
The burning liquor scorched his throat, trying to incinerate the damned unease.
"Victory party?" he boomed, using volume to mask everything. "Too soon! When the market opens in a minute, I want to watch our account numbers climb faster than our heartbeats!"
"Well said!"
"Let's celebrate after the opening bell!"
Roaring cheers once again flooded the private room.
Xu Zhi sank back into the sofa, fingers unconsciously rubbing the cold glass, eyes fixed on the countdown flashing on the screen.
The flickering numbers now looked like the ticking of some final judgment.
Inside, revelry bubbled like boiling water;
Outside, the night was thick as ink, a beast waiting to swallow everything, biding its time for its prey to offer its own neck.
While indulgence reigned here, back at the Courtyard House Wang Yuyan was actively striking every pose imaginable.
Ever since Jiang Cheng had brought her into the Courtyard House she'd been running on pure adrenaline.
Her recent hotel internship had given her a deeper understanding of architecture.
From the red flag car to the Courtyard House, Jiang Cheng had delivered a double shock today.
And it wasn't just Wang Yuyan; right now Jiang Cheng lay on a Golden-Thread Nanmu couch, his hand resting on her waist.
He marveled inwardly—Wang Yuyan truly was the most automated Girl beside him after Yu Xiaoxiao.
With other Girls he usually had to lead.
So the moment Jiang Cheng guided her through the corridor she sensed how different this Courtyard House was.
Her fingertips brushed the hidden lotus-scroll carving on a pillar.
When she felt the depression in the wood she deliberately slowed her steps.
Seeing that, Jiang Cheng knew her professional habit had kicked in.
His palm still circled her waist, but he didn't rush her.
"Like this place?"
"I do." Wang Yuyan tilted her head, lashes still tipped with a fading blush. "These beam paintings are Suzhou Style, right? I saw them in my course. They call them 'Hexicaihua'—first you gild the base, then grind mineral pigments. It's really troublesome…"
Jiang Cheng glanced up; he'd toured the place once when he moved in.
But only in passing.
He hadn't seen Wang Yuyan in ages. They'd had a brief exchange in the car earlier, but space had been limited.
Right now his mind was full of what lay beneath her pencil skirt.
"Weren't you in a hurry to shower? Still in the mood for architecture?"
Warm breath grazed her ear; Wang Yuyan's face burned anew.
Her breathing faltered.
She clutched the hem of his shirt and looked up. "I was in the mood—until you looked at me like that."
Jiang Cheng arched a brow; his other hand slipped under her skirt, fingertips brushing her smooth skin, and Wang Yuyan couldn't help trembling.
Yet she didn't pull away.
Because she'd noticed how professional the Bodyguards were.
Wherever they went, the lurking Bodyguards would quietly step aside.
"How was life Overseas?"
Though she'd heard the question before, hearing it face-to-face from Jiang Cheng warmed her heart.
She almost nodded.
But the memory of the pretty Xia Li she'd just seen froze the motion.
A perfect trace of sorrow crossed her face.
"Jiang Cheng…" Her voice caught just enough to sound fragile without being annoying. "I… actually haven't been doing very well."
She meant every word.
She'd simply been too sensible, always careful not to trouble Jiang Cheng.
So she'd hidden every negative emotion.
But after seeing Xia Li's eyes she suddenly felt she couldn't be that sensible anymore.
As the saying goes, the child who cries gets the candy.
Constantly telling him not to worry would only blur her presence.
Jiang Cheng was never short of company.
With a man like him, pure flattery or beauty was the easiest thing to replace.
"Vulnerability within honesty" and "dependence within loneliness" might stir something different.
So all she could do was seize every moment alone with him.
And then say what she could in the way that moved him most.
Hearing that, Jiang Cheng stilled his hand.
"What's wrong? What happened?"
Though her "not well" carried a bit of calculation, the concern in his question still reddened her eyes.
She buried her face against his chest and spoke in a muffled voice.
"It's not the material side… Everything you arranged was perfect—safe, complete. It's… the emptiness inside. When I'm alone I can hear my own heartbeat, beat after beat… especially at New Year."
She drew a shaky breath and tried to smile, managing something worse than a cry. "You know, back home… New Year was meaningless, I didn't even have my own room, but at least there was noise, even if it was quarreling. There… I truly felt exiled, like a kite with its string cut, drifting while nothing lay beneath."
It was the first time she'd told Jiang Cheng so directly that she was "not well."
Not a complaint, but a confession of weakness, almost an offering of her softest spot.
As she'd hoped, Jiang Cheng had long since stopped kneading her bottom.
He pulled his hand out and held her tight.
Before he could speak she lifted her head at the perfect moment, tears shimmering yet stubbornly refusing to fall.
"Actually… I'm scared. Scared you'll forget me when you're busy, scared my messages will sink without reply, scared that if I stay away too long you'll simply erase me from your memory…"
Jiang Cheng knew she would be lonely, but capable men are hard to split in two.
Staying beside him meant preparing to endure solitude.
As the saying goes: no sowing, no wealth; to keep that wealth, you must endure loneliness.