"Always, sir," Zhang Wei said, in the tone of someone who had not been looking at the road for the last thirty seconds.
The car slowed as they turned onto a wide boulevard lined with lights, and the hotel came into view at the end of it. Grand and deliberately impressive, the kind of building that had hosted important events for long enough that importance had simply become its default atmosphere.
Cars were lined up at the entrance, guests stepping out in black tie, the blinding white camera flashes from the press section were visible even from a distance.
"Remember," Liuxian said, as the car joined the queue. "Tang XiaoYu."
"Tang XiaoYu," Guiying confirmed. "Lover of art. Met you at an auction. You outbid me and bought me dinner."
"Perfect," Liuxian said.
Zhang Wei pulled up to the entrance and stepped out to open the door.
Guiying looked at the cameras, the guests, the grand entrance of a hotel that for once did not belong to his husband, and took a breath.
