Zhang Tingting was somewhat bewildered. She had no idea what had just happened between the two of them; she only felt that Shen, the president of Baige, seemed to harbor some hostility toward her. Probably just her imagination, she was merely a low-level employee doing her job, and she didn’t think she had offended this Eldest Miss in any way.
Jiang Yi’s movements froze for an instant, then she unscrewed the cap without betraying anything: “You’ve had a hard journey, President Shen. Have some water.”
Shen Siyao glanced at her sideways with those long, narrow eyes. She hadn’t said a single word, how was she tired? She was about to retort, but then noticed Jiang Yi’s lips, which seemed to be chapped, and her elegant brows lifted almost imperceptibly: “I’m not thirsty.”
Jiang Yi took in the sight, hiding that flicker of dejection, and picked up the bottle to take two small sips herself.
Seeing the atmosphere fall into silence, Zhou Zhengguang began making small talk: “To entertain everyone tonight, Vice President Jiang has specially booked a table at Jing Kaiseki Hana, to welcome you all and wash away the dust of travel.” It was a famous, high-end Japanese restaurant with only three set menus ten guests over four hours, served fifteen courses paired with eleven drinks. With a history of over two hundred and ninety years, a reservation was nearly impossible to get.
Shen Siyao raised an eyebrow, surprise showing on her face. Jiang Yi, since when had she become so generous?
As if some wire in her brain had come loose, Jiang Yi spoke up just then: “It was President Song who heard that Baige’s people were coming and specially arranged all this.”
Oh. Shen Siyao felt that made perfect sense now. After all, that was Jiang Yi for you, stingy to the bone, wouldn’t part with a single cent.
Cheng Le spoke up in a low voice: “President Shen, we…” The flight was going to be delayed, yet President Shen showed no sign whatsoever of wanting to leave even the hour and a half just now had been squeezed out of her schedule.
Shen Siyao gave a cold laugh: “Go? Why wouldn’t we go?” She walked along behind, sounding displeased: “Are those people all just freeloading? Do I really have to handle such trivial matters personally?”
Cheng Le understood.
As if thinking of something interesting, she looked at the person who had been taking notes in the corner earlier, the one called Zhang Tingting, was it? So the Eldest Miss Shen declared: “You’re coming too.”
Though when the client speaks, who was she to refuse? Zhang Tingting was a bit dazed. She first looked toward Vice President Jiang.
Jiang Yi smiled at her: “Then go get your things. We’ll go together in a bit.”
Only then did Zhang Tingting nod slightly. She noticed that the people who had initially followed Assistant Cheng seemed to have dwindled by five at some point.
Shen Siyao felt an inexplicable fire pressing against her heart, but thinking of the interesting things the evening would bring, the corners of her lips curled slightly.
Glasses clinked, and exquisite dishes were presented on white porcelain and jade ware, with chopsticks and napkins laid alongside, several varieties of sake, and small dishes.
The surroundings were quiet and still. By the time Jiang Yi arrived, everyone was already seated. She somewhat regretted dawdling. Zhou Zhengguang, Cheng Le, several familiar faces, and a few who appeared to be the leaders from Baige’s side were all seated at this table and Zhang Tingting, who should have been seated at the table next door, was for some reason sitting here too.
And the most unnerving thing of all was that she was seated directly across from Shen Siyao look up, and there was that face, beautiful as a demon’s. She ate her dinner very obediently indeed.
The situation was this: Zhou Zhengguang was in charge of the socializing, but his social circle apparently didn’t include her or Shen Siyao. Only when Cheng Le asked questions to explore things could she offer appropriate answers. But somehow, though Cheng Le clearly looked like she wanted to ask her more, her questions were always so brief that Jiang Yi couldn’t even get a chance to say more.
Zhou Zhengguang didn’t dare. He was a little intimidated by this President Shen beautiful, yes, but the foolish mistake he’d made tonight hadn’t blown over yet, so naturally he wasn’t going to walk into the line of fire. Even a fool could see that this President Shen and Vice President Jiang were on unusual terms, so he could only quietly ignore Vice President Jiang. As for Cheng Le, though she was dying to ask, she was, after all, representing Baige, so she could only touch on things lightly, not letting anyone see her intentions. The others held the same stance each with their own agenda, but friendly on the surface.
So Jiang Yi ate her meal slowly, finding it tasted like chewing wax. Without even lifting her eyes, she knew that gaze was burning into her, but her conscience was uneasy.
Zhang Tingting kept her head down and just ate. This octopus leg was so fresh it was still wriggling; this seared wagyu beef was simply a delight on the tongue; and this sake had such a mellow, smooth taste before she knew it, most of her glass was gone.
It felt like a long tug-of-war, and those seated were suffering through it. Jiang Yi just wanted this dinner to be over quickly, but Shen Siyao didn’t move, and naturally no one else dared to either.
The people on Shen Siyao’s side, watching Vice President Jiang, had no confidence to move either after all, Aurora was the vendor, and Baige was the client.
Jiang Yi couldn’t eat any more. It was all bland and tasteless; she just wanted to go home.
She raised her eyes and, after wiping the corner of her lips, saw that the sake cups in front of Shen Siyao had been emptied one after another, several empty bottles were gathered and stacked together while the food beside her hadn’t been touched at all.
Her expression turned to shock. Had they really been at this standoff that long?
The woman across from her was resting her chin on her hand at that moment, her expression alluring, her lips glistening, moistened by the wine, but her eyes were dark and unreadable, her voice unclear: “Finally willing to look up at me?” Shen Siyao said.
Jiang Yi’s eyes trembled slightly, her fingers curling inward. “I’m going to the restroom.”
A soft “heh” seemed to sound by Jiang Yi’s ear, but the woman just lazily propped her arm and sat there properly, her eyes dark as ink.
Jiang Yi washed her face and looked at the expressionless woman in the mirror, somewhat unfamiliar, somewhat cold. That was the person she used to be, the self she didn’t want to admit to. Her fingers rubbed together and moved toward her pocket, the gesture of wanting a cigarette only to find she hadn’t brought any. It had been a long time since she’d wanted to smoke.
Her throat was dry, so she timed her return, figuring it was about time for the dinner to wind down.
Zhang Tingting was standing at the door, looking worried. “Jiang Yi, are you okay?” At the company they called her Vice President Jiang; outside, they called her Jiang Yi that was what Jiang Yi had told them.
Jiang Yi shook her head, her smile as always like a mask welded onto her face that couldn’t be removed. “I’m fine. What’s wrong?”
“President Song called just now, but you weren’t around. It seemed like it might be urgent.”
Jiang Yi took the phone and unlocked it. Sure enough, there were three missed calls. She swiped across the number and dialed back. Within two seconds, Song Niannian answered, her first words: “You haven’t offended anyone, have you?”
Unease surged in Jiang Yi’s heart. “No. What’s wrong?”
Song Niannian hesitated, then continued speaking rapidly: “Take good care of President Shen tonight.”
Jiang Yi: “What are you talking about?”
Song Niannian spoke rapidly: “Oh come on, it’s exactly what you’re thinking. If you want to land this contract, take good care of her. Anyway, I’ve got things to do, handle it yourself.”
Jiang Yi laughed in exasperation. Had she just been packaged up and sold off, or what? Zhang Tingting was still beside her, watching Jiang Yi’s expression the whole time. Though she’d drunk quite a bit, she was clearly still sober: “What’s wrong, Jiang Yi?”
Jiang Yi, the only one present who hadn’t drunk tonight, felt her head go fuzzy. From the moment she’d seen Shen Siyao today, things seemed to have started slipping out of her control.
“It’s nothing. In a bit, leave with Xiao Zhou and the others. I’ll head back alone.”
The people in the restaurant rose, and one could vaguely see Zhou Zhengguang waving goodbye, Cheng Le supporting a tipsy colleague, and Zhang Tingting’s gaze, half-understanding, drifting between the two of them, then gradually receding into the distance.
Only she and Shen Siyao remained. Jiang Yi sighed inwardly. What was coming would come.
Shen Siyao, standing in the corner, looked momentarily fractured in the side light but the instant Jiang Yi looked, it became an illusion. Those red lips curved into an arc, her eyes hazy and unreadable, as if everything were under her control. She was still that proud, spoiled Eldest Miss.
From the moment Cheng Le left, Jiang Yi understood, she’d been handed over. The crisp scent of fruit wine on her mingled with rich rose perfume, flamboyant and elegant yet wild.
She didn’t ask Jiang Yi a single question not even “why are you here.” She simply tossed a set of car keys at her, the corner of her mouth curling almost mockingly: “Can you drive?”
It was a Koenigsegg Regera, limited to eighty units worldwide, equipped with a 5.0-liter V8 twin-turbo engine with a total output of 1,479 horsepower. Its streamlined body was a flamboyant, bewitching red beauty and performance combined, priced at over 38 million. It was Shen Siyao’s car.
Shen Siyao deliberately wanted to step on Jiang Yi, deliberately wanted to tear at her wounds, wanted to see Jiang Yi’s face crumble or tighten with discomfort, wanted to embarrass her. But clearly, none of that happened.
Jiang Yi silently took the keys bearing the shield-shaped emblem and replied, “A little.” She was glad she’d changed into casual clothes for tonight’s dinner, on her feet now were not high heels but cutout boots exposing slender ankles. She unlocked the car, let Shen Siyao get in, and closed the door.
Shen Siyao’s gaze was playful. She brushed back her hair and said, as if stating a fact: “‘A little’ means very good.” After all, how many cards Jiang Yi held up her sleeve, even Shen Siyao couldn’t figure out. Back in school, she used to game her test scores, even play pitiful to win Shen Siyao’s sympathy, a grudge she’d held to this day. Sometimes she really wanted to cut this woman’s heart out and see if it was truly as she imagined black inside.
Jiang Yi ignored her mocking expression, saying nothing. She could indeed drive, but she preferred a low-key, understated style like a Bentley with leather seats; comfortable was enough. This car was flashy and extravagant, but it suited Shen Siyao’s tastes as always.
The car sped down the road, drawing stares from everyone around some even pulled out their phones to take photos and record videos. Some were envious, some sour, but all alike: every gaze was fixed on them.
Under exactly this kind of pressure, Jiang Yi delivered her safely to the hotel.
The two of them walked very close together, but Shen Siyao showed no intention whatsoever of accepting her support. Afraid she might fall, Jiang Yi followed close behind. The woman ahead teetered along on eight-centimeter killer heels, swaying unsteadily with every step. Unable to watch any longer, Jiang Yi finally had no choice but to steady her with one hand, while the other held Shen Siyao’s bag slung over her shoulder.