Hang up the phone, and Li Wanqiu was immediately gripped by an overwhelming sense of embarrassment.
Gossiping behind someone’s back was never her habit; it just happened to come up in conversation today, so she indulged in a few extra words. Yet before the syllables had even settled, Ji Jinyan appeared right in front of her.
She had no idea whether Ji Jinyan had overheard.
Li Wanqiu cleared her throat softly, lowering her gaze to fidget with her hair as she tried to compose herself. Only then did she step back toward the reception parlor. Pushing the door open, she saw her father already deep in conversation with Ji Jinyan.
In the business world, age and seniority meant little—results spoke loudest. Compared to Bisha’s vast wine empire, the Li family’s enterprise paled in comparison. The disparity in power was so stark that it lent Father Li’s tone an involuntary layer of flattery: “President Ji is truly young and promising.”
“You flatter me,” Ji Jinyan replied with a light, modest chuckle, shaking her head. She raised her hand to pour tea for both of Li Wanqiu’s parents. “It’s all thanks to everyone’s generous support.”
Her tone was gentle and refined, completely devoid of airs. It instantly put people at ease. Mother Li nodded and smiled in agreement, settling the room into a warm, harmonious rhythm.
Before long, pleasantries gave way to proper business.
Traveling between downtown and the winery took over two hours round-trip. Ji Jinyan was not one to waste people’s time; agreeing to meet was essentially agreeing to bring Li Wanqiu on board.
Still, certain matters were best discussed in private.
Li Wanqiu’s parents caught on immediately. Before Ji Jinyan even needed to hint at it, they rose to their feet. Exchanging a brief, knowing glance with their daughter, they made an excuse about pressing company matters and took their leave.
Hospitality was paramount to Ji Jinyan. She had arranged everything well in advance; the moment her parents stepped out, an assistant came forward to attend to them, presenting two bottles of reserve vintage wine as parting gifts.
Soon, silence settled back over the parlor.
Ji Jinyan glanced instinctively at her wristwatch.
“You have other business to attend to, don’t you?” Li Wanqiu read her gesture right away. “For the remaining details, I can just coordinate with someone else.”
At those words, Ji Jinyan looked up at her. After a quiet beat, she smoothed her sleeve down over her watch, the corners of her lips curving slightly upward. “It’s fine. I’m not in a rush.”
“Come sit closer,” Ji Jinyan said, motioning toward the chair opposite her across the desk. She pulled a file from the drawer. Li Wanqiu glanced at it reflexively and realized it was filled with dossiers on herself.
“You’ve worked at five companies previously,” Ji Jinyan said, casually flipping through the papers. “Yet you resigned quickly from every single one—none lasted longer than three months.”
“May I ask why?”
Caught off guard by how thorough Ji Jinyan’s background check had been, Li Wanqiu froze. After a moment of silence, she squeezed out a few words: “I wasn’t capable enough.”
“I see.” Ji Jinyan nodded, offering no judgment. “Then how much does Miss Li know about the wine industry? Do you feel confident in handling the work?”
“After all, it doesn’t seem like you’re here entirely of your own accord.”
She saw right through me.
Stunned by such direct scrutiny, Li Wanqiu found herself momentarily tongue-tied. Luckily, picking up on her awkwardness, Ji Jinyan smoothly moved the conversation along: “That’s fine, though. The wine industry is genuinely fascinating. I’m sure you’ll grow to appreciate and adapt to it in time.”
“You’re only twenty-three. Youth is your greatest asset—it’s never too late to start,” she continued, a faint trace of laughter in her voice. She met Li Wanqiu’s eyes, her gaze laden with unmistakable subtext. “Unlike me.”
“I’m far too old.”
Li Wanqiu: “?”
Li Wanqiu spent the rest of the morning in a total daze.
Her limited knowledge of wine left her unqualified for most specialized roles. Fortunately, one of Ji Jinyan’s secretaries had just resigned, leaving an opening Li Wanqiu could conveniently fill.
Ji Jinyan’s expectations were straightforward: flexible working hours, standard weekends, and statutory holidays. Arriving late or leaving early for personal matters wouldn’t be an issue. There were only two conditions: perform the work conscientiously, and remain on call whenever Ji Jinyan needed her.
By all accounts, these terms were remarkably generous. Any newcomer landing a setup like this should have been overjoyed.
Yet Li Wanqiu couldn’t muster any joy at all. Her mind spun incessantly around those four damning words.
—Too old. Far too old.
Li Wanqiu wanted nothing more than to bash her head against a wall.
She had never known how to handle people older than herself, let alone someone like Ji Jinyan—poised, wildly accomplished, and effortlessly gorgeous. Ji Jinyan seemed capable of peeling back her defenses with a single glance, leaving her feeling utterly exposed and tongue-tied.
Even her attempt to apologize had failed; Ji Jinyan had another meeting immediately lined up, disappearing before Li Wanqiu could get the words out.
Sunk into a gloomy funk, Li Wanqiu stepped out of a taxi and walked into her residential compound. Head down, kicking small pebbles along the path, she was almost at her lobby door when Yan Weiwei’s name lit up her phone screen again.
“How did it go?” Yan Weiwei’s voice chimed through the receiver the moment she picked up.
“Don’t want to talk about it,” Li Wanqiu murmured quietly. “Got the job, but it was a disaster.”
“Got it.” Yan Weiwei didn’t press. After over a decade of best-friendship, she knew Li Wanqiu inside and out. Hearing the deflation in her voice, she immediately shifted gears to invite her out: “Come hang out. Just the two of us tonight, let me spoil you a bit.”
Li Wanqiu nodded, the stubborn tightness around her lips finally softening into a small smile. “Alright.”
Spending time with Yan Weiwei was always easier and more liberating than being around anyone else.
Yan Weiwei worked at an upscale club, maintained an expansive social circle, and was practically an expert on dining and entertainment. Determined to cheer Li Wanqiu up, she put together an all-inclusive afternoon itinerary: food, shopping, and a movie—an onslaught of pampering capable of coaxing a grin out of a stone.
By the end of it, Li Wanqiu’s mood had improved considerably. But just as they were about to browse another boutique, Yan Weiwei’s phone buzzed with an urgent ping. Something had gone wrong at the club, and she needed to head over right away.
“Go on, hurry,” Li Wanqiu said. “I’ll just look through this shop and head home too.”
“You sure you’ll be okay on your own?” Yan Weiwei fretted. “Our sweet, gentle Eldest Miss Li is way too precious. If someone snatches you, I’ll cry myself to death.”
“Stop being so dramatic,” Li Wanqiu retorted, pressing her lips together in mock disgust while her eyes curved into crescent crescents. “You and your silver tongue.”
“I speak only truth!” Yan Weiwei flashed a wide grin, flashing a thumbs-up. Realizing it was still early and not far from Li Wanqiu’s place, she finally relaxed, tossed out a few quick parting reminders, and hurried off.
Li Wanqiu waved, watching her friend’s silhouette disappear down the street before finally turning back inside to continue browsing.
This particular shop actually carried items she had been looking for.
Far from the idle, good-for-nothing slacker her mother made her out to be, Li Wanqiu had real passions and genuine talent—especially when it came to painting. Had her mother not persistently intervened, she likely would have taken her art much further.
“Most of the time, none of us are truly free, are we?” Li Wanqiu murmured under her breath, casually nudging a hanging teru teru bōzu doll on the shelf. Gathering the art supplies and paper she wanted, she paid at the register and stepped back outside.
A few steps down the pavement, a man’s voice called out behind her: “Miss Li?”
She turned around, failing to recognize the face. Before she could speak, the man closed the distance briskly.
“Miss Li, it really is you! What a coincidence.” The sheer, unearned familiarity in his demeanor made her instantly uneasy. She took two cautious steps back, looking at him warily.
“And you are?”
“I’m Wang Yong,” he offered eagerly. “We met at the gathering last night. I was hoping to ask for your contact info back then, but you slipped away before I got the chance.”
“To run into you again tonight—must be fate,” he grinned, reaching into his pocket for his phone. “Let’s add each other on WeChat.”
“I’m sorry, I have somewhere to be right now. Perhaps another time,” Li Wanqiu replied coolly, offering a polite refusal before turning to walk away.
Two steps later, he cut in front of her again. “Come on, don’t be like that. It only takes a second.”
“That way I can invite you out for dinner later.” Lowering his voice to an intimate rumble, he reached out and caught her by the sleeve, his intentions glaringly obvious.
In an instant, a spark of pure fury flared inside Li Wanqiu.
She was generally accommodating and polite, but that didn’t mean she lacked a backbone. When unruly patrons had caused trouble at Yan Weiwei’s club in the past, Li Wanqiu had been the one to tear them down piece by piece with sharp, clinical insults.
Reasoning with men like this was useless. Li Wanqiu glared at him, turning over her options as her fingers slipped slowly toward her phone.
Before she could act, a car pulled up smoothly beside the curb.
The tinted window slid down, revealing an exquisitely striking face.
“Li Wanqiu.”
Ji Jinyan’s voice cut through the quiet air. It lacked the gentle warmth from earlier that morning, in its place was something chilling and crisp.
She said, “Come here.”