2 02

Onboard the ship, Xia Songbai tilted his head back to gaze at the sky, seemingly spotting a helicopter flying from the city toward the island ahead through the leaden gray clouds.

Who in their right mind would take a helicopter to the island in this weather?

Xia Songbai thought he must be mistaken.

Hong Kong has a long tradition of horse racing. Several racetracks within the harbor were deemed insufficiently luxurious by Lian Sheng, who had commissioned the construction of a new racetrack on an island near the port.

Today was the opening ceremony of the racetrack, open free to all citizens of Hong Kong. Lian Sheng had invited all the city's elite, arranging ferries to shuttle guests from the private harbor.

Of course, those willing to take the public ferry were usually from less affluent branches of noble families. The truly affluent had their own yachts.

The Xia family was considered third-tier aristocracy, and even within that rank, barely above the lowest tier, so naturally, they had no yacht.

As Lian Sheng’s fiancée, Xia Songbai received no special treatment. He mingled with the crowd and disembarked with them. The driver from the Lian family was there to greet the guests; upon seeing Xia Songbai, he merely nodded slightly.

The servants of the Lian family carried themselves with more flair than others.

After Xia Songbai got into the car, the driver quietly said, “The young master has reserved the best seats for you.”

Had it been the original owner, he would have been overwhelmed with gratitude, thinking this was a special favor from Lian Sheng.

But Xia Songbai snorted disdainfully.

Lian Sheng well knew that he himself was also participating in the horse race, yet claimed he had reserved a seat for Xia Songbai. The implication was clear: stay put, don’t embarrass yourself by acting out.

So stubborn, so domineering.

Lian Sheng wasn’t just a tyrant; he was a chauvinistic fool.

Xia Songbai pretended not to hear and planned to slip away after getting off the car. But then he saw Lian Sheng standing ahead.

As the typical alpha male protagonist in romance novels, Lian Sheng had broad shoulders and a narrow waist, sharp brows and star-like eyes. Though his expression was stern, the white linen shirt and light gray trousers made him look like a graceful figure from a classical painting.

Lian Sheng said, “Why are you so late?”

Xia Songbai rolled his eyes inwardly.

With a bright smile, he quickened his pace to Lian Sheng’s side, reaching out to link his arm, but then hesitated, shyly withdrawing his hand and whispering, “Shengge, I was wrong.”

He was really trying hard to fit the original character.

Lian Sheng was initially displeased. When Xia Songbai bowed his head, the exposed nape was startlingly pale, almost like jade under the dim light, smooth and exquisite enough to make one want to touch it.

Suddenly silencing himself, Lian Sheng appeared momentarily softened. Xia Songbai, fearing this overbearing man would lash out, bit his lip and gently tugged the corner of Lian Sheng’s shirt.

“Shengge?”

This gesture was a bit silly, more like something a schoolboy would do.

But Lian Sheng, such a narcissist, was surprisingly affected by it. He finally relaxed his expression and said, “Delayed on the way?”

“I helped fix a broken-down car with Uncle Feng.”

“Next time, don’t be so kind,” Lian Sheng said.

“I’ll remember,” Xia Songbai replied with a smile.

Only then was Lian Sheng satisfied.

When Lian Sheng chose Xia Songbai as his fiancée among so many, it wasn’t just because Xia Songbai was beautiful but because he was the most obedient—like a delicate, pretty doll without any thoughts of his own.

Being Mrs. Lian required no extra self, only obedience and following him.

Lian Sheng said, “I reserved a lounge room for you. Wait for me there. When I’m done, we’ll have dinner together.”

His tone was always commanding toward Xia Songbai.

Xia Songbai’s fists clenched, feigning innocence to ask, “But Shengge, I already signed up for the horse race.”

Without hesitation, Lian Sheng said, “I had your entry cancelled.”

That tone of entitlement made Xia Songbai laugh.

Seeing him smile, Lian Sheng thought he had conceded and, filled with paternal pride, continued lecturing, “The race isn’t important. What matters today is to entertain the guests well. Xiaobai, you must know your place.”

He added, “If you don’t practice now, once you marry into the Lian family, how will you manage socializing and entertaining?”

The original Xia Songbai hated being called Xiaobai because it sounded like calling a dog; he had even fought at school because of it.

Yet the one he loved most called him by that nickname casually.

Xia Songbai ceased smiling and quietly looked at Lian Sheng.

His pupils were a striking pure black; when he laughed, his eyes sparkled like waves, but now calm, they were like polished crystal—cold, distant, and supremely noble.

Lian Sheng suddenly felt silenced and somewhat annoyed.

He was stunned by Xia Songbai’s gaze?

He wanted to snap but noticed others were watching.

After getting engaged, he maintained a gentle and considerate public image, so he barely held back his temper.

“What’s wrong now? I’m doing this for you. You always think my mother dislikes you. She’s coming today. You should spend time with her and build a relationship. Behave, understand?”

“I know you mean well, Shengge. But before I came, I happened to meet Kevin He. Shengge, if I don’t participate, who knows what he’ll write?”

Kevin He wasn’t his real name but a pen name. As a well-known writer in Hong Kong, he had a bad relationship with Lian Sheng and had once publicly mocked Lian Sheng as a weakling.

At this, Lian Sheng’s expression turned cold.

It was obvious: if Xia Songbai didn’t participate, Kevin He would claim it was all an act, and that Xia Songbai fled because of poor riding skills.

If Xia Songbai lost face, it would be Lian Sheng’s disgrace as well.

Lian Sheng glared coldly. Xia Songbai feigned fright and shyly lowered his head.

After a long silence, Lian Sheng snorted coldly, “Fine, if you want to participate, go ahead. I’ll figure out a way to get you a decent ranking, as long as you’re not last.”

You wish.

Xia Songbai cursed inwardly.

Lian Sheng, protective of his reputation, had invited many professional riders for the race. For them, reputation was everything. Would they risk their careers helping Lian Sheng cheat?

Xia Songbai said sweetly, voice trembling slightly as if frightened by Lian Sheng’s cold tone, “Shengge, you’re so kind. I’m the one causing trouble for you.”

Lian Sheng believed him. After all, Xia Songbai had been fawning over him like a devoted pet. Now hearing this obedient apology, Lian Sheng reached out casually to pull Xia Songbai into an embrace and offer a comforting kiss.

But just as his hand reached Xia Songbai’s face, Xia Songbai grabbed his wrist firmly through his sleeve.

Lian Sheng: ?

Xia Songbai: ^_^ *flips off*

Though Lian Sheng was making the first move, if he actually kissed Xia Songbai, later he would accuse Xia Songbai of seducing him.

Chastity was the best dowry for a dominant male.

Not keeping oneself pure and blaming others later was the lowest of the low.

Under Lian Sheng’s suspicious gaze, Xia Songbai blinked, “Shengge, does this mean you forgive me? It’s the first time you’ve taken my hand.”

Lian Sheng felt something was off.

Xia Songbai was holding his wrist tightly, as if afraid he would pull away.

Perhaps Xia Songbai was overwhelmed; after all, Lian Sheng had never taken his hand first.

Why the wrist? Maybe he grabbed the wrong part in excitement.

Lian Sheng sorted his thoughts and looked at Xia Songbai with some pity and tolerance.

He had some affection for Xia Songbai but was far from love. He could indulge these minor details as compensation.

Unaware of Lian Sheng’s thoughts, Xia Songbai treated him like a stray dog and led him near the audience seats, then immediately released his grip.

“Shengge, you can leave me here.”

Lian Sheng said, “I don’t expect you to place, but at least finish the race and don’t fall off the horse.”

Xia Songbai responded sweetly and, watching Lian Sheng leave, ignored his words completely and headed for the stables.

The stables were tall and spacious. Normally, housing so many animals would cause a smell, but Lian Sheng spared no expense outfitting it with high-end air circulation systems, making the air as fresh as outside.

Xia Songbai walked in confidently and reached the last stall.

Hearing his footsteps, a horse drinking water lifted its head and neighed happily.

It was a beautiful white horse with sleek, defined muscles and a coat that shimmered with a silver glow.

Xia Songbai smiled and gently stroked its forehead. “Xue Tuan.”

Xue Tuan nuzzled his palm affectionately. Xia Songbai checked its diet and found no problems; the horse looked healthy and in good spirits, which eased his mind.

In truth, this race was inconsequential to him. Given his current situation, he should avoid conflict with the male lead and keep out of his notice.

But the book mentioned that this race was when the male lead met the male protagonist for the second time. Originally, the male protagonist hated the male lead, seeing him as arrogant and uncouth.

(Xia Songbai thought: So the male protagonist’s taste was normal at this point.)

At the race, a horse panicked and charged toward the male protagonist. Luckily, the male lead appeared just in time, saved him, and shot the mad horse dead.

The hero’s rescue sparked a subtle change in the male protagonist’s feelings toward the male lead.

Xia Songbai had six points to make about this:

First, even if this were international waters, where did the gun come from?

Second, that damned horse is mine!

Xia Songbai came to the stables specifically to check on Xue Tuan, who showed no signs of madness.

But to ensure Xue Tuan wouldn’t panic and charge the stands as described in the original story, Xia Songbai resolved to ride him personally in the race to keep him under control.

Why not just pull Xue Tuan from the race?

Sometimes, plot inertia was too strong.

The author deliberately set it so that Lian Sheng shot Xia Songbai’s horse to heighten the conflict.

It was unclear whether the protagonist’s later madness was partly driven by a desire to avenge his beloved horse.

Whether Xia Songbai participated didn’t matter much to the plot, but Xue Tuan was destined to appear.

As the race approached, Xia Songbai saddled Xue Tuan himself and led him outside.

Twelve racehorses lined up side by side, jockeys poised on their backs.

The stands were crowded with ordinary citizens of Hong Kong who bought tickets to watch the race. Many held betting slips, placing bets on their favored riders.

The central screen displayed real-time odds for each competitor.

As a first-time participant, Xia Songbai was written off as a mere dabbling amateur, with odds at 200 to 10.

At the sidelines, many pointed and whispered, some live-streamed, making ruthless commentary: “The Xia family used to be a noble house, but now they’re declining year by year. The youngest son is selling his charm for a rich husband, shamelessly. The ‘Golden Phoenix’ is crazy, coming out to race horses while her man Lian is here protecting her. Does she think she can seduce other racers on the track?”

Hong Kong tabloids were vicious. When Xia Songbai got engaged to Lian Sheng, gossip rags mocked him as “the gold-digger who descended from glory to dust,” ridiculing his lowly attempts to win over Lian Sheng.

The original owner couldn’t stand the ridicule and threatened to sue the tabloids, causing a public scandal.

Now, seeing Xia Songbai’s overconfidence, online mockery was rampant. Many who hadn’t come to the race still bought betting slips online, wagering against Xia Songbai’s victory.

On the website, live odds fluctuated for all racers except Xia Songbai, whose odds remained stubbornly unchanged.

No one believed Xia Songbai would win.

Except Xia Songbai himself.

He sat easily astride Xue Tuan, leaning down to feed the horse a sugar cube. His eyes flicked to the black horse in gate three, which nervously snorted, its jockey trying to calm it.

Xia Songbai raised his eyebrows and glanced at the sky.

Dark clouds pressed down in the distance; a storm was brewing. The air was thick with heavy moisture.

Staff began signaling that the race was about to start.

Suddenly, Xia Songbai raised his hand. “I request a delay to the race.”

—

Strangely, though there had been thunder and lightning, no rain had fallen.

In the VIP box with the best view, Shen Zhao was restless, quietly checking his phone and WeChat.

Unfortunately, there were only messages from official accounts; the newly added friend, Xia Songbai, remained silent.

“Ah Zhao,” Shen Tingzong glanced down at a document on his phone, noticing Shen Zhao’s distracted expression, and said lightly, “Have you thought about what you’ll say later?”

Shen Zhao straightened up and said seriously, “I’ve been reviewing the materials for over half a month. I’m confident there won’t be any mistakes.”

Hearing this, Shen Tingzong chuckled, “Relax. Today is just to meet some uncles and cousins, watch the horse race, and catch up. The materials are just to help you understand, so you won’t be bored if we talk.”

Shen Zhao understood that Shen Tingzong was trying to reassure him, and he felt a little relieved.

“Second Uncle, why did the Lian family suddenly want to cooperate with us?”

As one of Hong Kong’s premier noble families, the Shen family’s holdings extended beyond Hong Kong. Their multinational conglomerate, Chonghe Group, covered many industries.

This horse racing event was ostensibly a show of wealth by the Lian family but was really an invitation to the Shen family for business discussions.

Shen Tingzong rubbed the large blood-red ruby ring on his thumb, lips curling slightly but without warmth. He said calmly, “Business is business. The Lian family never acts without profit.”

Lost in thought, Shen Zhao heard footsteps outside as attendants led several people inside.

The one at the forefront, with impeccably combed silver hair and a smiling face, was Lian Runwen—the initiator of this cooperation.

Lian Runwen was renowned in Hong Kong as a philanthropist, donating hundreds of millions annually, maintaining excellent relations with everyone.

Seeing Shen Tingzong, he smiled warmly, “Mr. Shen, your presence truly honors us.”

Shen Tingzong simply smiled back, “Mr. Lian, you’re too kind.”

Business elites like them valued their time. Even small talk was brief before they settled into discussions.

Shen Tingzong spoke little, letting Shen Zhao handle most of the conversation, occasionally interjecting decisively to prevent the older businessmen from setting traps.

Lian Runwen smiled on the surface, but every time Shen Tingzong spoke, he felt a pang of envy.

When Shen Tingjun died, everyone thought Chonghe would be taken over. But Shen Tingzong, still a student under eighteen, carried the burden alone and later became undefeated in business, pushing the old guard out.

In recent years, Shen Tingzong had retreated to the background, acting more discreetly. Otherwise, Hong Kong’s business world would likely be his domain.

Recalling those turbulent years, Lian Runwen still felt uneasy but found Shen Zhao’s naïveté somewhat comforting.

After the formalities, Lian Runwen chatted with Shen Zhao, “Your nephew is still studying?”

“Junior year this year,” Shen Zhao replied.

“At Harvard?” Lian Runwen smiled. “Smart boy. My son Sheng was supposed to go there too, but he just missed the grades.”

Shen Zhao was about to modestly reply when the screen beside them suddenly lit up—the horse race was about to begin.

The camera scanned the lineup of jockeys. Though distant, one rider caught everyone’s attention.

Unlike the black and white outfits of dressage riders, jockeys wore colorful silks to represent their owners.

Among the vivid colors, one jockey wore jet-black with embroidered gold and red flames winding from his neck down his arm like a coiling golden dragon, contrasting sharply with his dazzling pale skin.

The camera zoomed in on him. He seemed to sense something, lifted his face, and smiled radiantly at the camera.

His smile outshone the fiery embroidery.

Shen Zhao was astonished and delighted. “Why him?!”

No wonder Xia Songbai hadn’t replied to WeChat—he was busy racing!

His expression was so obvious that Lian Runwen glanced at him, “You know him?”

Shen Zhao blushed, explaining, “His car broke down on the way, and he helped me. Mr. Lian, do you know him?”

“More than you think,” Lian Runwen chuckled, shattering the young man’s fantasies. “Songbai recently got engaged to my son. We’re family now.”