The lecture hall of Guanghua School of Management was packed. A small portion of the attendees were carefully selected outstanding students, while the majority were top elites from related fields.
The keynote speaker was eloquently delivering his talk on stage, while Ruan Chaoxi sat in the back row, listening attentively.
The content of the lecture was indeed as Jiang Yaoci had said, covering a lot of frontline practical work. Many of the macro-level analyses aligned with what she already knew. Some case details, which might appear to outsiders as games of strategy and risk, she clearly recognized as traces of her own empire’s moves on the chessboard. This perspective, woven with both detachment and familiarity, felt strangely fascinating to her.
As the lecture moved into the interactive Q&A session, the atmosphere in the hall grew lively. When it was the students’ turn to ask questions, Ruan Chaoxi raised her hand.
“Regarding the Shan State case you mentioned, aside from the overt legal conflicts and local government power struggles, has consideration been given to the long-standing informal power structures in that region, as well as the impact of cross-border ethnic armed groups on actual control? These non-state actors often disregard legally binding development contracts, yet they can substantially determine the survival of a project. Relying solely on high-level agreements and capital power likely fails to address the core of the issue.”
She didn’t use any obscure theories, yet her question hit the nail on the head, pointing directly at the bloodiest and most real rules of the game in that gray zone.
The lecture hall fell silent for a moment.
This question clearly exceeded the understanding of ordinary students and even general practitioners, precisely straddling the line between academic analysis and underground reality.
The keynote speaker’s response was tactfully worded but amounted to an indirect acknowledgment of the validity of Ruan Chaoxi’s point.
The subsequent Q&A almost became a small-scale, in-depth exchange between her and the keynote speaker. Every question she posed struck at the heart of the matter, and the data and case details she cited even surprised the speaker.
During the intermission, the speaker specifically came down from the stage and proactively handed Ruan Chaoxi a business card: “Student, your insights are extremely valuable.” Here is my contact information. I welcome further discussions in the future.”
Several people nearby who appeared to be corporate executives or scholars also subtly gravitated toward her, clearly intending to get to know her better.
Jiang Yaoci sat not far away, taking it all in. Watching that composed, confident, and radiant Ruan Chaoxi, his heartbeat involuntarily quickened.
There she stood, calmly conversing with those “big shots” whom he usually needed his father’s connections to barely get a word with, even earning their attention on their own initiative.
That intellectual sharpness and the ease with which she commanded the topic were unlike any girl he had encountered before, making him feel genuine attraction toward her for the first time—something that went beyond mere superficial interest!
However, another emotion surfaced almost simultaneously: a deep-seated prejudice against the labels of “backwardness” and “chaos” associated with “Southeast Asia.”
The woman Jiang Yaoci fancied naturally couldn’t be ordinary, but no matter how special she was, it couldn’t change the underlying fact of her origins in a “backward region”!
This conflicted mindset naturally led him to overlook delving deeper into the possibility that her “uniqueness” might conceal a background far more immense than he could imagine. And that attraction was thus tinged with a layer of condescending arrogance.
After the lecture concluded, the speaker and some important attendees moved to a smaller hall adjacent to the lecture hall, where a brief networking reception was held.Jiang Yaoci composed himself, once again wearing that confident smile on his face. He strode quickly through the crowd and walked up to Chaoxi.
“Junior Ruan, your speech just now was brilliant. There are quite a few industry seniors at the reception—it’s a rare opportunity. Would you like to join me for a chat? I can introduce you to a few people.”
He saw this as yet another chance to showcase his connections and value.
Ruan Chaoxi was packing up her notebook. Hearing this, she looked up, her gaze calm and unruffled. “Thank you, but that won’t be necessary.” Her refusal was crisp and decisive. “I have a more important appointment tonight. I need to leave now.”
She was, of course, referring to her nightly nine o’clock video call with Miya, her brother—an unshakable part of her schedule, far more important than any reception!
“An appointment?”
The smile on Jiang Yaoci’s face instantly froze. A strong sense of sourness and displeasure rose in his heart, casting a shadow over his previously confident mood.
Almost instinctively, he pressed further, his tone even betraying a hint of impatience. “What appointment could be so important? More important than networking at an event like this?”
Ruan Chaoxi glanced at him and merely gave a slight nod. “A personal matter. I’ll be going ahead.”
With that, she didn’t linger any longer. Turning, she merged into the departing crowd and soon disappeared through the door.
Jiang Yaoci stood where he was, looking in the direction she had left, his expression somewhat unpleasant.
The surrounding noise seemed to fade into background sound. Only the words “more important appointment” echoed repeatedly in his mind, pricking him with discomfort.
It wasn’t just the frustration of a rejected invitation. It was the anger and jealousy of feeling that something he considered his “treasure” might be coveted by others, or even touched first!
For the first time, he experienced such a clear, stifling sense of jealousy over a woman! And this feeling actually stemmed from an international student from a “poor country”!
He was displeased, extremely displeased!
…
Thousands of miles away, in Myanmar.
Samia sat in the host’s seat of the negotiation room. He glanced down at the time and slowly stood up. He didn’t speak, nor did he make any unnecessary movements, but the air in the entire room plummeted to freezing point the moment he rose.
Across from him, the local militia leader, who had still been trying to argue for a better share, broke out in a cold sweat on his temples, the rest of his words stuck in his throat.
“My patience has run out,” Samia finally spoke, his gaze sweeping over the other’s pale face. “Sign, or we’ll find someone else to talk to.”
His mind wasn’t here at all. All his thoughts were tied to the lecture thousands of kilometers away and that restless nine o’clock in the evening. Every minute of delay felt like it was scorching his already taut nerves.
The negotiation ended swiftly with the other party’s humiliating concessions.
Samia didn’t wait for the other side to finish signing the final documents. He directly handed the follow-up matters to his adjutant and strode out of the suffocating negotiation room.
As soon as he reached the corridor, he immediately pulled out the encrypted phone from his inner pocket.
20:47. Thirteen minutes until nine o’clock.
Each and every one of those thirteen minutes felt unnaturally drawn out.
The lecture should be over by now.
The reception… that man would definitely invite her.
Would she be persuaded by smooth talk?
For the sake of networking? For that topic she’s interested in?
If she went, would she be pressured to drink? Would she encounter people with ill intentions? Would that man use the opportunity to get close?
Most importantly, would she still remember, or would she still care about, the nine o’clock appointment?Countless terrible thoughts gnawed away at his reason bit by bit, making his aura grow colder.
He wanted to immediately make the call, yet forcefully restrained himself—he couldn’t act like a distrustful madman.
20:50
20:55
Just as his patience was nearing its limit, on the verge of dialing the number regardless of everything, the phone screen lit up. It was a message from Ruan Chaoxi:
“Miya gege, I’m on my way back to the dorm. Wait for me a little, I’ll call you right away! :-P”
That short line of text poured over him like sweet rain, extinguishing the anxiety that had nearly consumed him.
She hadn’t gone to the cocktail party; she was on her way back.
She asked him to wait for her; she remembered their promise.
All the wild thoughts, all the gloomy suspicions, vanished in that moment.
He replied immediately:
“Okay.”
He placed the phone upright in front of him, staring unblinkingly at the screen like a devout believer awaiting divine revelation.
Time seemed to slow down again, but this time it wasn’t agony—it was filled with sweet anticipation.
A few minutes later, the video call notification finally rang.
Samia instantly pressed the answer button.
On the screen, Ruan Chaoxi’s cheeks still carried a faint flush from the autumn night outdoors, her hair slightly tousled by the wind, with the familiar wall of her dorm room in the background.
“Miya gege!” Her voice held a hint of light panting and the apology of returning late. “I just got back to the dorm! Have you been waiting long?”
Samia gazed at her, his eyes greedily tracing her brows and eyes. The tightly furrowed brow slowly relaxed, and the turbulent storm deep in his eyes melted into a bottomless tenderness.
“Not at all.” Looking at her vivid appearance, a thousand words clogged his chest, ultimately condensed into just one: “How was… the lecture?”
“Mhm! It was really interesting! The speaker explained things clearly, and I chatted a bit during the interactive session.” Ruan Chaoxi began sharing enthusiastically. “Some perspectives were… different from back home, quite enlightening.”
She omitted the part where she became the center of attention, and also left out Jiang Yaoci, focusing solely on the lecture content itself.
Samia listened quietly, his gaze never leaving her face.
“But I didn’t go to the cocktail party. I said I had an important appointment tonight.”
“An important appointment?” Samia repeated.
“Yeah,” Ruan Chaoxi nodded, her eyes sparkling as she looked at him through the screen. “Video calling with Miya gege is the most important appointment!”
Watching her pure, bright smile on the screen and hearing her matter-of-fact tone, all his anxiety, unease, jealousy, and obsession… were soothed.
“Mhm.” He responded softly, but those eyes that never stopped watching her revealed far too many unspeakable emotions.
His Xixi could fly off to see a broader sky, but as long as the string remained in his hand, no matter how high she flew, she would eventually return to his side.
This thought brought him a touch of extravagant comfort on this blood-soaked, scheming night in northern Myanmar.
Ruan Chaoxi felt a bit uneasy under his gaze—it was too deep, too heavy, stirring that vague flutter in her heart to quietly peek out again.
“Alright, it’s getting late. You must be tired today too, so rest early.” Samia said gently, noticing the faint weariness reappearing under her eyes.”Mm, Miya, you should rest early too.” Ruan Chaoxi nodded obediently. “Was your day… smooth?” She could sense a lingering trace of cold severity between his brows.
“Smooth,” Samia said lightly. “Everything’s resolved.”
Because you were there.
He finished silently in his heart.
The video call ended with their usual exchange of goodnights.
Samia remained standing under the corridor, looking up at the night sky over northern Myanmar. His phone screen had already darkened, but his palm seemed to still hold the warmth of her smile.
The violence and anxiety had temporarily receded, but the possessive desire and fear that had nearly scorched through him had not dissipated.
He had almost thought he would lose the chance to hear her voice and see her tonight.
Xixi…
He realized he was far less able to bear any risk of losing her than he had imagined, even if it was just the fleeting thought of being disconnected.