Eighteen eighteen

Near noon, the sunlight streamed in brilliantly, cascading like a waterfall through the glass and venetian blinds, splitting into delicate strands that made the room appear exceptionally clear and bright.

A dozen or so professionals, dressed in sharp suits, were painstakingly going through the contract details point by point. Differences and disputes abounded, and every decimal was scrutinized to three places. Though all were top industry elites, their debates grew heated and flushed, with not an inch of concession.

Leaning lazily on one side of the conference table, Quan Shaobo chatted casually with Shen Tingzong. “Those plots of land you just acquired—are you starting construction on the factories right away?”

His well-informed nature prompted Shen Tingzong to reply, “There just happened to be a suitable project.”

Quan Shaobo gave a slight smirk.

Previously, many Hong Kong businessmen rushing north to the mainland hoarded land, waiting for its value to rise. But Shen Tingzong’s approach—buying land then immediately building factories—demonstrated a stance beyond mere speculation. With negotiations with the government nearing completion, this goodwill gesture would reassure Beijing and, in return, bring better resources.

Sometimes, Quan Shaobo felt Shen Tingzong was an old soul—though only a few years his senior, his seasoned, comprehensive approach to business surpassed even Quan’s own high self-regard.

Feeling a bit irritated, Quan Shaobo fingered his prayer beads one by one, then sneered, “Did you see that news?”

Shen Tingzong glanced at him as Quan Shaobo motioned for an aide to hand over a tablet.

On the screen, a gossip host earnestly narrated: “Xia Songbai intervened just in time to report to the police, helping to rescue the hostage. In an interview, he said it was his duty as a citizen. But we can all see that immediately after the rescue, the hostage was embraced warmly by her rushing lover—Lian Sheng, the next heir of Rui Lan. The couple only recently got engaged, and now we witness a bittersweet separation. One wonders, facing this scene, how much sincerity and how much bitterness lingers in Xia Songbai’s smile?”

The scene shifted to Xia Songbai’s interview.

Facing the camera, Xia Songbai remained composed and polite, a slight smile gracing his lips. Quick-witted, he skillfully avoided the traps laid by reporters and casually remarked that he had always enjoyed helping others.

This image, contrasted with Lian Sheng’s hurried rush to Ning Qing’s side, was especially ironic.

Online, many felt Xia Songbai’s goodwill had been misused, accidentally rescuing the “other woman.” Some praised his kindness; others called him foolish. One comment read, “Why do I think Lian Sheng isn’t as good-looking as Xia Songbai?”

The post quickly received agreement.

“I thought maybe my taste was off too.”

“Rich men are just different—rejecting the beautiful for someone so plain-looking.”

“Some men, even if there’s a pile of crap on the street, have to taste it.”

“Xia Gui Ren is foolish but truly beautiful. He saved the other woman and still smiles like a fool.”

“That’s unfair. Maybe they’re soulmates! Not everyone’s as shallow as you.”

“You’re such a faker. A toad jumping off a cliff trying to be Batman. Do you think you can empathize with the wealthy? You must be overworked.”

The comments kept pouring in as Shen Tingzong stared at Xia Songbai on the screen.

He was delicate and tender, with black hair falling over his eyes, appearing fragile and innocent yet evoking pity. In his hand was a black umbrella with a long walnut-wood handle and a pure gold iris-shaped clasp—cold in texture and color, utterly at odds with his gentle demeanor.

That umbrella had been personally handed to him by Shen Tingzong, though it hadn’t rained that day.

Quan Shaobo remarked casually, “Young Xia is quite devoted. Even with his fiancé right in front of him, he still won’t call off the engagement. Shen, you know him well—why don’t you advise him?”

“That’s his own freedom. He can be with anyone he chooses; no one else has the right to interfere.” Shen Tingzong set the tablet aside, his tone cool. “I heard you’ve been quite successful recently, and well-connected in Hong Kong.”

Quan Shaobo’s narrow eyes flicked toward Shen Tingzong.

The latter remained still, bathed in radiant light from behind, a faint curve on his lips but no smile in his eyes. His commanding presence was palpable, intimidating even in silence.

Meeting his gaze, Quan Shaobo’s fingers paused on the beads. He finally said, “I’ve merely made a few friends. Shen, if I spoke too casually, please forgive me.”

No need to hammer a beaten drum—smart people speak briefly but with meaning.

Though Shen’s words were simple, their implication left no room for defiance.

Recently, Quan Shaobo had indulged himself, orchestrating some impressive financial deals under his subordinates’ names to stay behind the scenes. Yet, Shen Tingzong’s casual remark had revealed it all.

These actions weren’t illegal but were non-compliant—gray areas which, if reported, would force internal scrutiny, even for someone like Quan Shaobo.

Shen Tingzong’s voice in Chonghe had grown quieter these years; many thought he had relinquished power entirely, but no disturbance in Hong Kong escaped his notice.

Lowering his head, Quan Shaobo felt unsettled. He stood, gave a perfunctory farewell, and left.

At the door, he nearly collided with a young employee carrying tea.

The employee quickly apologized, and though Quan Shaobo’s demeanor prevented him from making things difficult, he offered no warmth, walking away with a cold expression.

—

The young employee entered with a teapot, pouring water for the parched elites before turning to see the cold tea in front of Shen Tingzong.

He hesitated but didn’t approach.

His senior in the special assistant department had warned him that the big boss’s tea was different—he was fastidious, and not everyone could approach. The senior insisted he should stay out of sight until the tea was freshly brewed and served personally.

Such was the unspoken rule in the workplace.

The young employee was about to leave when Shen Tingzong looked up, his gaze fixed on him. “Don’t go.”

Turning back, the young man said, “Mr. Shen?”

Shen Tingzong glanced at the teapot in his hands and smiled. “What are you doing here?”

The new intern, Xia Songbai, smiled sheepishly. “I’m here for an internship.”

Today, Xia wore a Prussian blue shirt tucked in at the waist, with long legs, a slim figure, and a badge identifying him as an intern. He stood there like an elegant, graceful tree.

The teapot was too heavy; his fingers reddened from holding it. Shen Tingzong rose and took the pot, setting it aside, then asked, “Why didn’t you tell me you joined Chonghe?”

Because he had gotten in through connections.

Xia whispered, “My grades are just average, so I didn’t feel comfortable telling you.”

Shen chuckled, “Ah, it was Shen Zhao who brought you in, wasn’t it?”

Xia nodded honestly.

Though he had imagined it, Shen Zhao was not like him, who had started as an intern. Hearing Shen Zhao’s pitiful account, Xia had thought he was undercover at the grassroots level. But upon arriving, Xia realized Shen Zhao independently led a department outside the management line, reporting directly to Shen Tingzong—a true second-generation heir among heirs, a little emperor among little emperors.

And Xia Songbai, as the first personally recruited by Shen Zhao, was like a favored servant beside the emperor. The department didn’t quite know how to assign him, only daring to give him simple tasks.

Pouring tea for the big boss today was a favor from the seniors, arranged so he could show his face to Shen Tingzong.

He hadn’t really wanted to come—feeling a bit ashamed to admit his mediocre grades to the big boss.

Perhaps because Shen Tingzong spoke so gently, like an elder.

Before him, Xia Songbai always wanted to be a good boy.

Shen asked, “If you don’t understand something, come directly to me. Do you know which floor my office is on?”

Wow!

So he could, like Shen Zhao, report straight to the top.

Feeling a small triumph, Xia Songbai carried the teapot away.

The industry elites in the room continued their discussion, but their voices softened, ears pricked to catch Xia and Shen’s conversation, exchanging sharp glances.

Who was this man? How was he so familiar with Mr. Shen? No one had heard of such a junior from the Shen family.

Suddenly, Shen Tingzong said, “Let’s end here for today.”

The elites fell silent, all rising in unison. “Yes, Mr. Shen.”

After everyone left, Shen Tingzong instructed his secretary, “Inform the staff that next time, tasks like serving tea should not be given to Xia Songbai. He’s an intern here to learn; does he really need to learn how to serve tea?”

Shen Tingzong was usually gentle and concise with subordinates; it was rare for him to speak so much, especially with a hint of criticism.

—

The secretary, who had worked with him for ten years, was surprised to hear him speak up about such a trivial matter. She hurriedly said, “I’ll notify the special assistant department immediately… It was probably too busy today that the intern was allowed to serve tea.”

Shen Tingzong gave a short acknowledgment. The secretary rushed out, wiping cold sweat from her forehead, then headed straight to the special assistant department with a serious expression.

—

Today, Shen Zhao was giving an online lecture and not at the office. Xia Songbai went to the company cafeteria with colleagues.

Just off the elevator, he was surrounded by the special assistant department staff.

The assistants were a group of beautiful young women with long wavy hair, wearing eight-centimeter heels and form-fitting uniforms, impeccably groomed from head to toe, their fragrance filling the air. Their presence alone drew all the eyes in the cafeteria.

Though Xia was taller, their presence overshadowed him, and he stood obediently, politely greeting, “Hello, sisters.”

With his youthful face, sweet voice, and courteous manner, he was especially likable as a newcomer.

The department head, initially intimidating, softened completely at his greeting, “Xiao Xia, you’ve been keeping us in the dark. Why didn’t you tell us you’re related to Mr. Shen?”

If they’d known, how could they have dared to let him serve tea!

Xia protested innocently, “I’m not.”

“Not? Then why does Mr. Shen treat you so well?”

Xia blinked, “Because Mr. Shen is kind and likes to take care of people.”

The head rolled her eyes. If only Shen would take care of her like that.

Before she could complain, Xia found an excuse to slip away. When he sat down with his meal, the head came over again, this time bringing a plate with a burger, setting it in front of him.

“Xiao Xia, about today—I apologize. You shouldn’t have had to serve tea. Let me treat you to this burger. Don’t be mad.”

The burger was triple-layered: double beef patties, triple cheese, with tomato, lettuce, and a soft-boiled egg in the middle. It stood as tall as half an arm—a signature dish of the company cafeteria, full of sincere apology.

Xia smiled, “Sister Sun, you’re too kind.”

She rolled her eyes with a smile. “You know, Yao Zhang just came down hard on us, saying we’re lazy and only boss around the newcomers. Honestly, Xiao Xia, do you think I treat you well?”

Yao Zhang was Shen Tingzong’s secretary, overseeing the entire secretarial team, respected as the chief steward.

That Yao Zhang personally intervened was clearly Shen Tingzong’s directive, explaining why Sister Sun came to apologize.

She really took good care of Xia, even though she got scolded herself.

Xia firmly said, “Yes! Sister Sun, you’re the best to me.”

Only then was Sister Sun satisfied. “I let you show your face to Mr. Shen because you’re so pretty and well-behaved. Maybe you’ll stay after the internship. If I’d known you had connections, I would’ve gone myself!”

Xia was about to clarify his connections weren’t with Shen Tingzong when a cold voice interrupted, “Sun Xiaomo, what are you saying here?”

Sister Sun gasped, “How did you get here?”

Yao Zhang ignored her and smiled at Xia Songbai, “Mr. Shen wants to see you. Come with me.”

Xia responded with a simple “Oh,” stood up, and handed the Yakult he’d bought to Sister Sun. “Sister, I haven’t drunk this. You can have it.”

Sister Sun held the Yakult, watching Xia taken away by Yao Zhang, full of curiosity.

If he’s not family… then what exactly is his relationship with Mr. Shen?