The tallest building in the capital’s business district belonged to Huashang Group, standing right in the center of the city.
A tense meeting had just ended.
Operations Director Shang Shiqing stepped quickly yet gracefully in her high heels, catching up to the tall figure ahead. “Huaizhou, wait a moment.”
Hearing her, Shang Huaizhou stopped.
Shang Shiqing slowed down as well, taking a light breath before speaking. “Huaizhou, the batch of chips that entered the market has all been traced back.” She paused for a second, lifting her delicate chin slightly. “It’s not easy to train a group of researchers. Punishing everyone together might be too harsh. Can you reconsider?”
After a moment, Shang Huaizhou turned around. His gaze was calm and distant, his sharp brows giving him a cold air. His eyes darkened slightly as he spoke in a flat tone, “As a senior manager of the group, Director Shang shouldn’t be asking that kind of question.”
“…” Shang Shiqing’s red lips moved, but no words came out. She knew she shouldn’t have asked. Even though the leak of client information didn’t cause serious damage, whether intentional or not, it still violated the most basic professional ethics of the industry.
But holding everyone responsible… it gave her a headache. It meant she had to start recruiting again.
Recruiting alone wouldn’t be a problem, but Shang Huaizhou’s standards were too high—even top research students from leading universities might not meet his expectations.
Shang Shiqing rubbed the bridge of her nose in frustration.
When Shang Huaizhou pushed open his office door, he saw a playful girl with braided hair lounging half-carelessly on the sofa, arms full of snacks.
As soon as Shang Luo saw him enter, she immediately jumped up from the sofa, patted the leather seat she had messed up, grabbed a tissue to wipe it, and brushed the crumbs off herself.
Shang Huaizhou glanced at her and walked straight to his desk, sitting down. “What are you doing here? Isn’t there enough space at home for you to lie around?”
Shang Luo clasped her hands behind her back and shuffled over to him like a duck, then leaned on the armrest of his chair with a grin. “Third Brother, don’t be so serious. Hehe, I came because something big happened.”
Shang Huaizhou gave her a sideways glance. “Speak properly.”
“…” Shang Luo put her hands behind her back again and cleared her throat. “Grandpa doesn’t agree to your marriage with the Ming family. I came to give you a heads-up, so don’t be mean to me.” At home, Shang Luo feared nothing and no one—except this cousin of hers. He was heartless.
Shang Huaizhou flipped open a document and read it, his voice indifferent. “My decision has nothing to do with whether Grandpa agrees.”
Shang Luo had expected that answer. She pouted and said timidly, “Even so, Third Brother, you should go back and take a look. Grandpa is serious this time—the situation is quite big. He even sent me here to ‘gather information.’”
Shang Huaizhou slowly lifted his head from the document, his cold eyes resting on her. “Sending someone like you, who can be easily swayed, to ‘gather information’? Seems like Grandpa really has no one else to rely on.”
“…” Shang Luo felt wronged. What did he mean “easily swayed”? She was very loyal, okay!
“Go on. What exactly did Grandpa say?” Shang Huaizhou switched to another document.
Shang Luo bit her lip and said nervously, “Um… Grandpa said you should hurry up and get back there.” The moment she finished, she turned and ran, disappearing from the office at sprint speed, as if afraid she’d be dragged back and beaten.
“…” Shang Huaizhou.
Near midnight, after finishing a social engagement, Shang Huaizhou drove his large SUV through Tinglang Lake and into the Shang family estate.
The old residence was brightly lit. With his suit jacket casually draped over his arm, he walked steadily toward the villa, entered the password, stepped inside, and placed his car keys on the tray.
The servants had already prepared slippers and were waiting nearby.
After changing his shoes, Shang Huaizhou walked from the entrance hallway into the living room with long strides. A group of elders all turned to look at him at once—it felt no different from a full family interrogation.
Shang Huaizhou calmly sat in his usual seat. One long leg rested over the other as he glanced around, raising an eyebrow. “Grandpa, gathering everyone this late at night for a meeting?”
The old master at the head seat looked serious. “Keep pretending if you want. Didn’t Luo Luo warn you?”
Shang Huaizhou said nothing and placed a document in front of him.
The old master didn’t even bother to look, already knowing it wouldn’t be anything good, and ignored it completely.
The other elders were curious and leaned forward to take a look—it was a contract.
A ten-year priority agreement for selecting Ming family chip technology.
The Ming family had only one daughter. The meaning was obvious.
The old master didn’t like the way Shang Huaizhou handled things—always calculating. “Our Shang family hasn’t fallen to the point where we need a marriage alliance to secure our interests.”
Shang Huaizhou rested his head on one hand, his long fingers casually tapping his flawless jawline. His deep gaze stayed on the document, but his voice remained calm. “We don’t need it. I just like to make things even better.”
“…”
Using marriage to “make things better”?
Was that something a man in his twenties would say?
Aren’t young people these days all about freedom in love and marriage? Don’t they hate arranged marriages?
But with Shang Huaizhou, everything was the opposite. At home, he was always strict and serious—anyone who saw him felt nervous.
The old master held his anger in and snorted. “The fact that I’m still alive is a blessing from heaven, a miracle of nature.”
Shang Huaizhou took a sip of tea, a faint cold smile in his eyes. “Grandpa, for your good health, you should first thank your excellent doctor, and second, your good environment.”
“…” The old master’s face turned dark with anger, too irritated to speak.
Shang Shiqing quickly stepped in to ease the tension. “Don’t be angry, Grandpa. Huaizhou is at the age to get married. He has his own ideas—he knows what he likes and what he needs.”
“What ideas does he have?” the old master snapped, glaring at Shang Huaizhou.
“It’s true the company has grown under him these years, but look at what he’s become. If I had known he’d turn into such a profit-driven businessman, I wouldn’t have let him take over. I would’ve sent him straight to the army!”
“What does he even know about liking someone?” The more he thought, the angrier he became.
“Marriage isn’t a joke. It’s for living together, not for exchanging equal benefits. After fighting all day outside, when you come home, you need warmth—not more schemes and calculations! You don’t think about this at all!”
“And what kind of people are the Ming family? A pack of wolves and tigers. If they marry into this family, will we ever have peace?”
The old master spoke at length, full of frustration.
Shang Huaizhou calmly unfastened the diamond cuff button on his sleeve and slowly rolled it up to his forearm. Then he took over making tea from the servant, patiently letting the old master finish everything.
Only then did he smile lightly and say, “Grandpa, at your age, you should try to get less angry. If a company wants to grow, should it avoid working with wolves and tigers and instead dance with sheep? That doesn’t sound realistic, does it?”
The old master shot him an unfriendly look. On the surface, he seemed polite and easygoing, but everything he said was infuriating. “Listen to him—what kind of words are those?”
The other elders all lowered their heads in silence. They knew Shang Huaizhou too well.
The old master had once held a high position. The Shang family only started doing business in his son’s generation. It had developed steadily but without major breakthroughs, and at one point almost collapsed.
Shang Huaizhou took over the company at eighteen, and within just a few years turned it into one of the top tech companies both domestically and internationally.
Many veterans in the business world were no match for him and had suffered losses at his hands.
At various events, many of them would approach the old master, greeting him politely but subtly complaining, hinting that Shang Huaizhou shouldn’t dominate everything and should leave others some room to survive.
But the old master couldn’t control him at all—he was like a lone, unstoppable night leopard.
Shang Huaizhou played with an antique teacup in his slender fingers, holding it just steady enough to make it look like it might slip.
The old master’s heart suddenly raced—this brat really knew how to hit his weak spot.
Only when Shang Huaizhou set the teacup down did the old master feel relieved. But it made him dislike his calm and proper demeanor even more. He snorted angrily, “I think you’re colluding with them!”
Shang Huaizhou leaned forward, poured a cup of freshly brewed tea, and respectfully handed it to him. At the same time, he corrected him, “Grandpa, you can use idioms, but not incorrectly. It’s called mutual cooperation and benefit.”
“…”
The old master instantly lost the desire to drink the tea—it felt like it would burn his mouth.
He set the cup down and didn’t want to argue anymore. One more sentence might shorten his life by a year.
Looking at him, he asked, “What I told you a few days ago—did you take it to heart?”
Shang Huaizhou showed no emotion, stretching his long legs. “Mm. I don’t agree.”
The old master stomped his cane, grinding his teeth in anger. “You’ve got some nerve! If you dare let the Ming family enter our household, not even the best doctors and environment will save me!”
“…” Shang Huaizhou.
The old master didn’t expect any proper reaction from him anyway. He stood up with a cold face, glancing at him again and again.
In the end, he said nothing more, but his anger was obvious.
Shang Huaizhou calmly drank his tea, unaffected by those looks.
Leaning back against the sofa, his long legs crossed, his fingers lightly brushing the rim of the cup, his cold gaze fixed on empty space—no one knew what he was thinking.
At night, someone knocked on the door of Shang Huaizhou’s study. He answered, and Shang Shiqing pushed the door open and walked in.
“Aunt, you’re not asleep yet?” Shang Huaizhou lifted his eyes slightly from the documents.
Shang Shiqing had just taken a shower, and her hair was still damp. She ran a hand through her neat shoulder-length hair and glanced at him. “So you still remember I’m your aunt? When you argue with me at the company, you never go easy on me.”
Shang Huaizhou raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
Shang Shiqing was the old master’s youngest daughter, born later in his life.
Age-wise, she wasn’t much older than Shang Huaizhou, and they were usually quite close.
She sat down casually on the chair across from his desk and looked at him, who was still busy. “The girl Grandpa mentioned is Jiang Jiang. Why are you being so stubborn?”
Seeing no reaction from him, she lifted the corner of her eye slightly. “Huaizhou, you remember her, right? Jiang Jiang. She lived at our house for a while, and you two even went to school together.”
They had spent about three years together, and their relationship had been quite good.
Later, Jiang Jiang was taken away by her grandfather, and it had been eight years since they last met. The fair and pretty little girl from back then must have grown even more beautiful now.
Her words fell into silence, like a stone sinking into the sea. The only sound was the soft scratching of his pen as he signed documents.
Shang Shiqing didn’t expect much of a response, so she changed her approach. “Don’t tell me you really like the Ming family’s daughter?”
Shang Huaizhou’s eyelid twitched slightly. Like? He had never even seen what the Ming family’s eldest daughter looked like—whether she was tall or short, thin or fat—so how could he talk about liking her?
Seeing his calm, emotionless expression, Shang Shiqing figured he probably didn’t like her. Her nephew was someone who planned every step of his life—maybe he didn’t even know what “liking someone” meant.
She gave a small smile and spread her hands. “Anyway, your married life is yours to live. Think it through yourself. You’ve always had your own opinions—we won’t force you.” Mostly because they couldn’t.
Shang Huaizhou slowly closed his pen, placed it into the holder, and looked up at her. “Aunt, instead of worrying about me, you should think about getting yourself married.”
“…” His tone was calm, but the damage was huge. Shang Shiqing looked at him again and again, speechless.
She stood up proudly and walked out, silently thinking: Serves you right for being single.
After she left, Shang Huaizhou reviewed a few more documents. He set aside the remaining unfinished ones and rubbed his brow to ease his fatigue.
After a while, he stood up and walked to the bookshelf behind him. He stopped at the fifth row from the left, bent down, and took out an old wooden box from the bottom shelf.
He opened the drawer. Inside were photos of him and Jiang Li. They hadn’t spent a long time together, but they had quite a lot of photos—though most of them were hard to look at.
Back then, Jiang Li was in her first year of middle school, and he was in his second year of high school. She was much shorter than him, yet insisted on squeezing in next to him for photos.
She would wrinkle his neat shirt.
If he said something a bit harsh, she would pout, looking pitiful, but there was still a stubborn, unyielding look in her eyes.
And yet, she would still insist on standing next to him for photos, even stepping on his shoes in defiance. Tears still hung in her eyes, but she lifted her chin proudly. In the camera, the little girl looked soft and delicate, yet unwilling to admit defeat—the tears in her eyes shining like tiny stars, bright and sparkling.
Shang Huaizhou had Jiang Li’s current phone number. The old master had given it to him a few days ago, and he followed it to find her on WeChat.
Her profile picture was a grinning gorilla.
A monkey—
Shang Huaizhou let out a faint smile. She really hadn’t changed.
He tapped to add her and glanced at the phone number, only to realize he had entered one digit wrong. He frowned slightly and typed it again.
This time, he saw her username first:
[Jiang Jiang Who Doesn’t Eat Ginger]
The name was definitely right.
Her profile picture was a side view of her dancing. Through the soft, hazy veil, her figure looked graceful and well-shaped.
Very captivating.
Jiang Li received Shang Huaizhou’s first message one morning, just after she returned from outside.
Behind her was a whole cart of items—bottles, jars, valuable pieces, broken ones, all kinds of decorative objects.
Since she was young, Jiang Li had loved collecting these things. She could be considered an antique enthusiast. But she was different from others—most collectors focused on age and value.
She was more casual. While she owned many valuable items, she preferred interesting ones. She didn’t care about age or worth—only whether she liked them and how she felt.
Author’s Note:
Hello again, dear readers.
This is a slow-paced, everyday romance story. The plot is simple and ordinary, without big twists or dramatic ups and downs.
The author isn’t very clever and has very old-fashioned tastes. The story may feel cliché, dramatic, and calm.
If you prefer fresh or surprising plots, you might want to skip this one.