Chapter 4 The Widow

Finally, someone had arrived!
However, it took more than another half an hour before the elevator doors were successfully pried open.

“Miss Song.”
“Attorney Wen.”

The newcomers were clearly senior managers from the hotel; despite their practiced, respectful tones, their anxiety was barely concealed. If, after all this time, they still hadn’t figured out who had been trapped inside the elevator, then this hotel might as well close its doors for good tomorrow.

By now, Song Mi was so dizzy and faint that she was on the verge of losing consciousness. Wen Yanli’s legs had long since gone numb, but all he said was, “Miss Song isn’t doing very well!”

“Yes, yes, the medical staff are right outside…”

…

After all this commotion, by the time Song Mi woke from her slumber, it was already quite late.

“Miss Song, you’re awake?” a well-trained female voice greeted her. “How are you feeling?”

She took a moment to adjust, then slowly sat up. “What time is it?”

“It’s 9:35 in the evening.”

By her calculation, she had slept for nearly three hours.

Glancing down at the hand that had held the IV, Song Mi’s brows lifted slightly. “How’s Attorney Wen?”

“Attorney Wen rested for just over ten minutes before leaving.” The other woman immediately began to apologize, “We are terribly sorry, due to our negligence…”

The gist was clear: whatever terms she proposed for compensation, they would accept. Anyone who could afford the Grand Hyatt’s presidential suite was not someone they could afford to offend, especially when an elevator malfunction was entirely the hotel’s responsibility.

The woman hadn’t finished speaking when Song Mi suddenly waved her hand. “I’m a bit hungry.”

“…Understood.” The woman instantly fell silent and replied, “I’ll bring you the menu straight away.”

Once the woman had turned to leave, Song Mi relaxed her shoulders and leaned back. “I’ll dine in the restaurant.”

Only then did she ask, “The person I was meeting?”

“Mr. Lin is still waiting for you outside.”

She wasn’t surprised; in fact, had he left, she’d have begun to doubt her own judgment.

Twenty minutes later, freshly changed, Song Mi appeared at the entrance of the hotel’s rooftop revolving restaurant, moving with unhurried grace. She wore a white silk blouse, its hem tucked into draping navy wide-legged trousers. Though she had swapped her shoes, her heels were still a full three inches high. Even her lipstick was different now—no longer the commanding true red she’d worn that morning, but now a vibrant, luscious plum.

Fair-skinned, strikingly beautiful, with long legs and a slender waist that seemed too delicate to encircle, she was the embodiment of elegance and allure. The moment Song Mi entered, every gaze in the room was drawn to her.

The restaurant had tried to clear the space as much as possible, but the guests already seated could not simply be “asked” to leave. Among them, by coincidence, was the very man who had shared her ordeal just a few hours before.

Wen Yanli spared only a single glance in her direction before looking away. Yet this brief moment did not escape the woman seated across from him.

“That Miss Song truly is a beauty,” she remarked.

Wen Yanli responded immediately. “You know her?”

Lu Zhizhi, of course, understood the basic principle that in polite conversation, one does not speak ill of others. However, all the tabloids today had featured this woman, Song Mi, on their front pages; even if she had seen it, it would be perfectly normal.

“I don’t know her,” she replied. “I saw her in a financial news alert.”

Who said that a well-bred lady couldn’t occasionally indulge in a bit of gossip? Besides, she was always adept at maintaining the proper boundaries. “It’s said she’s the legitimate widow of the late Master Shen!”

At this, a shadow flickered in Wen Yanli’s eyes, but he quickly composed himself and looked across at her. “Oh?”

“Are you sure you were looking at the financial section?”