The bedroom door was slightly ajar. Jiang Shi gently pushed it open and saw the man making a phone call by the floor-to-ceiling window.
He wore a black suit, his bearing distinguished.
Dusk fell upon his sharply contoured profile, adding a trace of inscrutable calm, with a lingering hint of the youth he once was.
She stared blankly.
Not until he hung up and turned to look at her. “Mrs. Cheng came back quite early. Not being a little busy bee who loves her work anymore?”
“Likewise.” Jiang Shi composed herself, too lazy to waste words. “Since you’re back, let’s get down to business.”
Cheng Jili’s eyes shifted subtly. He interrupted in a mild tone, “No time. Tonight is Old Mrs. Shen’s eightieth birthday banquet. You’re coming with me.”
When Jiang Shi first came to Jingbei, she had received no small amount of care from Old Mrs. Shen, and was fairly close to the Shen family.
The old lady’s birthday banquet—by both sentiment and reason, she ought to go.
She turned and walked into the walk-in closet. Her fingertips brushed past a row of dresses before she finally picked out a cream-white silk long dress with a subtle woven pattern.
The style was minimalist, with a ring of cloud motifs embroidered around the collar—very elegant.
She quickly changed into the dress. When she pushed the door open again, Cheng Jili was standing right outside.
The man’s gaze darkened inexplicably, carrying a somberness she couldn’t read. “Change into something else.”
Jiang Shi: “Why?”
He casually looked away. “Who likes looking at such a plain color?”
“…I’m going to wish Grandma Shen a happy birthday, not to be a peacock. If you don’t like looking, just close your eyes.”
Jiang Shi walked to the vanity, opened a drawer, and took out a small velvet box.
Inside was a crabapple brooch she had spent half a month designing and making by hand.
Using extremely fine silk threads, she had woven two budding crabapples. At the stamens were embedded round, full natural East pearls, and the edges were wrapped in delicate pure gold filigree.
Full of Chinese charm, yet not the least bit tacky.
Grandma Shen adored the qipaos her grandfather made by hand—she would surely love this too.
She carefully placed the brooch back in the box.
Suddenly, the man’s voice came from behind her. “I’ve never seen you make one for me.”
She didn’t turn her head. “If I made you one, would you wear it on your head?”
Cheng Jili was in a rare good mood today. Not only was he not annoyed, he even chuckled softly. “Sure. I’ll wear it on my head and go out with you. Let’s see who gets embarrassed.”
“…Shameless.”
Jiang Shi took it as him being flippant. She closed the small box, about to put it in her bag.
Her wrist was suddenly seized by the man.
His palm was long and strong, dry and warm.
Jiang Shi struggled once but couldn’t break free.
The next second, Cheng Jili produced a handbag from behind him and hung it directly on her wrist.
Black crocodile leather, a very classic design, the texture fine and supple.
“Take this one,” he said.
This bag must be worth a fortune.
The young madam of the Cheng family needed a valuable bag to keep up appearances, lest people laugh at her for being shabby.
Jiang Shi silently placed the small box containing the brooch into the bag.
Twenty minutes later, the car slowly stopped at the entrance of the Shen family villa.
Cheng Jili gallantly helped Jiang Shi out of the car, then naturally put his arm around her shoulder.
Even though the marriage was already in ruins, in front of outsiders, for the sake of appearances, they had to pretend to be a loving couple.
Jiang Shi slightly raised her eyes, pulling a perfectly measured smile onto her face. Cooperating with Cheng Jili’s movements, she walked in side by side with him.
The main hall was filled with guests.
As a currently sought-after rising business star, Cheng Jili had no sooner walked in than many people proactively came up to exchange pleasantries. He was quickly surrounded and ushered toward the side hall.
Jiang Shi greeted the several ladies with poise when she suddenly heard a warm and kindly voice.
“Ah, Jiang! You’ve finally arrived! Come, sit beside your grandmother!”
She looked up.
Old Mrs. Shen was wearing a dark navy silk qipao embroidered with peonies.
She stood with dignity, her spirit vigorous, smiling as she walked toward Jiang Shi, her eyes and brows brimming with genuine delight.
Jiang Shi hurried forward, offering the gift to the elderly lady. “Grandma Shen, I wish you longevity and good health, and joy and peace in all things.”
“What a good child, thank you!” Old Mrs. Shen took the box with a smile and opened it, her eyes gleaming with admiration. “You truly have clever hands! You’ve clearly inherited your grandfather’s gift! This gift is far too precious!”
One of the ladies nearby chimed in with a smile, “Madam, many ladies from the distinguished families of northern Jingbei love to commission qipaos from Miss Jiang. Everyone says her craftsmanship is exquisite—every stitch reveals her skill, completely matching the late Old Mr. Chen in his day!”
“Wonderful! Wonderful! The student has surpassed the master!”
Old Mrs. Shen gently stroked the qipao she was wearing, her tone full of nostalgia. “Old Chen was one of the finest qipao masters in northern Jingbei back then. The few pieces I treasure most in my wardrobe are all his work. His skill and his character were beyond reproach. So many years have passed since—time changes everything!”
She gazed at Jiang Shi with affectionate warmth. “Back then, to get your grandfather to make me a few extra qipaos, I often invited you over to play. Now you’ve grown up and inherited Old Chen’s craft. My heart is truly glad.”
Jiang Shi’s heart swelled with gratitude.
Grandma Shen genuinely wished her well and also cherished and respected her grandfather. She was truly glad she hadn’t missed this birthday banquet because of her quarrel with Cheng Jili.
The ladies gathered around Old Mrs. Shen joined in the conversation with smiles.
“Miss Jiang is so lovely in appearance, and her craftsmanship is superb—truly rare to be both talented and beautiful.”
“Miss Jiang has such a wonderful figure and such a gentle temperament—why don’t you wear a qipao of your own making? It would surely be stunning.”
Jiang Shi paused briefly, recalling the first qipao she had completed with her own hands.
She had just turned eighteen then, and had made it to her own measurements.
Plain cotton-linen fabric, embroidered with simple plum blossoms, with a few small modern touches.
Though her technique wasn’t refined, she had happily worn it out to dinner with everyone.
Su Ye had clamored for one too when she saw it, and Shen Mochuan had also softly praised how nice she looked.
Only Cheng Jili had frowned and teased her, saying, “Jiang Xiaoshi, you’re far too thin—like a skinny bamboo pole stuffed into clothes.”
From that day on, she had never worn a qipao again.
Even later, when her skill grew increasingly refined, she only made them for others and never thought of making one for herself.
Snapping back to the present, a flicker of dimness passed through Jiang Shi’s eyes as she casually changed the subject. “By the way, Grandma Shen, has Brother Mochuan not come today?”
Mentioning her grandson, Old Mrs. Shen let out a helpless sigh. “He says work at the company is busy and he can’t make it. For this old woman, seeing him is harder than reaching the heavens.”
One of the ladies beside her picked up the conversation. “I heard Jili and Mochuan are working on competing projects—doesn’t that make them rivals?”
Old Mrs. Shen waved her hand, looking unconcerned. “I don’t understand those business matters of theirs. But it’s normal for young people to compete. Besides, they grew up together and are used to bickering. This is nothing.”
Jiang Shi tugged at the corner of her mouth, unable to resist a silent complaint: Shen Mochuan had been steady and courteous since childhood, and had never once roughhoused with Cheng Jili—it was always Cheng Jili with his sharp tongue and lack of seriousness.
Just then, an auntie of slightly higher seniority nearby turned to Jiang Shi, her tone that of an elder teasing, “Jiang Shi, if Mochuan and Jili ever really went head-to-head in business, whose side would you take?”
Everyone around knew the three of them had been close since childhood, and they all smiled, waiting for her answer.
Jiang Shi pressed her lips together, without hesitation. “I wish Mochuan-ge success.”
After all, she and Cheng Jili had signed a prenuptial agreement—no matter how much that bastard earned, none of it would go to her anyway. She might as well offer her blessing to Grandma Shen’s grandson.
What she hadn’t expected was that the words had barely left her mouth when she suddenly noticed Cheng Jili standing not far away.
She’d been so absorbed in the conversation that she hadn’t seen when he’d finished his socializing, nor did she know whether he’d overheard their exchange.
There he was, leaning lazily against a pillar, a faint, unreadable smile curving at the corner of his lips.
His pitch-black eyes were fixed directly on her, yet his gaze was heavy and deep.
It made Jiang Shi’s heart tighten.