Her slender wrist rested against Chen Yuan’s cheek.
Jiangg Ning bit her lip, silently telling herself, ’Just this once.’
She turned to look out the window, ignoring him.
The car drove smoothly toward Lanjing. The night was deep, two beams of light piercing the silent darkness.
The driver in the front seat was silent, trying to even quiet his breathing, turning himself into a lifeless object.
He tuned out the conversation and everything happening in the back seat.
He didn’t dare to look, either.
The driver had seen bosses get friendly with their secretaries, even flirt and banter, but he’d never seen a secretary dare to punch her boss... And this wasn’t just any boss, but Mrs. Jiang’s sole designated heir. How close must they be for her to land a punch on him while he was drunk?
The driver didn’t dare to dwell on it. He kept his eyes on the road and his mind on his driving, focusing only on the path ahead.
...
At midnight, the main hall of the villa was still brightly lit.
A Peking Opera tune wavered through the air, as melodious and meandering as a ribbon drifting through the night sky.
The fifty-six-year-old Gao Dengfeng, far from looking drunk after the festivities, was positively radiant. He stood among several old friends, his head held high, singing along to the Peking Opera tune with meticulous precision.
As his clear, strong voice rang out, the other middle-aged men beside him nodded their heads along with the rhythm, thoroughly enjoying themselves.
Every generation has its own form of post-drinking entertainment; Gao Dengfeng’s was, without a doubt, Peking Opera.
"I’m about to retire, and I thought my career had hit a dead end. I never expected to get such a great opportunity in my twilight years," he said, pausing his singing for a moment, unable to suppress a sigh of emotion. "We can only guess at President Jiang’s true resolve, but this is a truly life-changing stroke of fortune."
"Director Gao, you’ve worked so hard all these years. Everyone has seen it. To say you’ve been diligent and utterly dedicated is no exaggeration—just like Zhuge Liang himself! President Jiang knows this, of course, so there’s no way he would treat you unfairly."
"Comparing me to Zhuge Liang is pure flattery," Gao Dengfeng said, shaking his head. "I’ve only done my duty. The North District is the most perilous of the five major districts. From the moment I took the position, I’ve been stonewalled at every turn, forced to play politics and cater to others’ whims. Every policy had to be pushed through under incredibly difficult conditions. But having said that, do the others who were assigned to remote posts have it any easier? We all only see our own plight. Even if President Jiang hadn’t paved this path for me, I would have had no room to complain."
"Director Gao isn’t wrong. So many people fight tooth and nail to get aboard the Jiang Family’s ship, but once you’re on, the seas are even rougher. In a situation like that, retirement might not have been such a bad thing."
"A road, no matter how long, can be traversed. A task, no matter how difficult, can be done. The reforms in the North District are at a critical juncture. When I first received the notice from headquarters, I was stunned. But on reflection, it was both unexpected and perfectly logical. Having President Jiang’s son take over as General Director will not only change the situation in the North District, but also pave the way for President Jiang in advance... Last night, do you know what President Jiang asked me?"
"What is it? Director Gao, don’t leave us hanging. Out with it," one man urged.
"He offered to transfer me to headquarters immediately, to serve as the director of Project Torchlight!"
"Then why didn’t you go? That’s a position with real power, one that countless people dream of!"
"I couldn’t," Gao Dengfeng said, his gaze profound. "President Jiang has been incredibly gracious to me. The situation in the north is a tangled mess. If I abandoned President Jiang and went straight to headquarters, it would prove I’m not fit for great responsibility. This is a test."
Hearing this, the men all fell into deep thought.
Just as someone was about to ask a question, Gao Tongyu, who had already changed into casual clothes, suddenly came running down from the second floor. She couldn’t contain her curiosity any longer. She feigned cluelessness, but she had actually been watching from the staircase for a long time.
"Dad... Uncles, you’ve been drinking. Aren’t you going to bed? Look at the time! You’re old men, you shouldn’t be staying up so late."
"Nonsense," Gao Dengfeng said. The moment he saw his daughter, even the wrinkles around his eyes softened. He waved her over. "We’re just having some tea to sober up."
"Is Yu trying to kick us out?" another man joked.
"I wouldn’t dare! I just came to see how you all are doing."
"How sweet of you. Looks like my daughter’s all grown up and sensible, learning to care for people. They say a daughter is her father’s little padded jacket, meant to keep him warm. How come my jacket isn’t so drafty today?"
"It was never drafty," Gao Tongyu pouted.
"If you have something to say, just say it, sweetheart. Don’t tell me you’re short on cash again?"
Gao Dengfeng knew his daughter well. She never came near these drinking gatherings unless it was to hit him up for living expenses and spending money while he was tipsy. Otherwise, she avoided them like the plague.
For her to come over repeatedly today, anyone could tell something was up.
"Dad! Is that really how you see me? Do I only ever talk to you when I need money?"
"Well, you’re not wrong."
"I... okay, fine. I do have something else," Gao Tongyu gave up trying to defend herself, her face flushing slightly. She hesitated for a moment before asking, "I was just curious... who was that guy who came to our house today? He seemed new. I’ve never seen him before."
"Which one?"
"The young one, of course... The one who was in the seat of honor."
It was a little embarrassing, but after leaving the dinner party, Gao Tongyu had spent over an hour on the phone with her best friend, speculating wildly about Chen Yuan’s identity. When he’d left, she had even pressed herself against the window to spy on him.
She really couldn’t stand it anymore, which was why she had finally come down to ask.
Otherwise, the curiosity would have kept her up all night.