The sound of polite pleasantries all around surged like a tide, engulfing Huang Zhihe.
Elders from the business world crowded around Jiang Zhiwu, asking her all sorts of questions. Even Jiang Yanzhou was clapped on the shoulder by several family friends, who praised him as a “promising young man.” In contrast, Huang Zhihe felt like nothing more than a forgotten prop left standing in the corner.
“Excuse me.” Jiang Zhiwu’s voice was clear and gentle, yet carried an undeniable weight.
She slipped sideways through the crowd, holding a rosewood gift box, and walked calmly toward the main table in the banquet hall. Old Mr. Gao was sitting there receiving birthday wishes from the younger generation. When he saw Jiang Zhiwu approaching, his cloudy eyes instantly lit up, and he quickly waved his hand. “Is that Zhiwu, my girl? Come here, let Grandpa have a look at you.”
Jiang Zhiwu stepped forward with a smile, presenting the box with both hands. “Grandpa Gao, I wish you happiness as immense as the Eastern Sea and longevity as enduring as the Southern Mountains. I specially selected this Yixing clay teapot for you. I know you love tea, so I hope it meets your taste.”
She stood straight and tall, her smile poised and polite, perfect in every way.
Old Mr. Gao took the box and opened it. When he saw the calligraphy by a famous artist inscribed on the pot, his eyes widened with delight. He nodded repeatedly. “Excellent! You have such a thoughtful heart, Zhiwu! You truly understand me. Unlike these brats, all they ever give are tonics or calligraphy and paintings. None of it is as practical as this teapot.”
Immediate laughter and agreement filled the air. Many took the opportunity to praise Jiang Zhiwu for her thoughtfulness, making the atmosphere even warmer.
Huang Zhihe clenched her fists. Finally, seeing a gap in the crowd, she hurried forward in her high heels, forcing a sweet smile onto her face. “Zhiwu, Yanzhou! I didn’t expect to run into you here!”
Her voice cut through the conversation abruptly. Old Mr. Gao, who had been talking to Jiang Zhiwu, frowned almost imperceptibly at the interruption. He looked at her with a hint of unfamiliarity. “And you are?”
Huang Zhihe froze, a wave of grievance rising in her heart. She had been at the party for over half an hour—how could he possibly have failed to notice her?
Before she could speak, a middle-aged man quickly stepped forward, smiling awkwardly to smooth things over. “Uncle Gao, this is my daughter, Zhihe.”
Old Mr. Gao looked even more confused. He squinted at Huang Zhihe, then glanced at Jiang Ting, who had been standing silently nearby. “Mingqi, I remember you only have one son, Xiaoting. When did you suddenly get a daughter?”
Jiang Mingqi’s face flushed bright red. He stammered, “Well… this is the child of my second wife.”
Jiang Zhiwu’s gaze shifted to Jiang Ting.
The young man maintained his impassive expression, but his knuckles gripping his wine glass had turned white.
So Jiang Ting and Huang Zhihe were both Jiang Mingqi’s children. That was indeed something Jiang Zhiwu hadn’t expected.
However, it finally answered a question that had puzzled her: why, after her death, had someone like Huang Zhihe, who was essentially an outsider, been able to claim a portion of the Jiang family assets? Now it seemed clear—it was all because of this convoluted family connection.
Sensing Jiang Zhiwu’s gaze, Jiang Ting was slightly startled and gave her an almost imperceptible nod.
Jiang Zhiwu vaguely recalled that she had indeed met this cousin at family banquets when they were children. Back then, he was also quiet, always following silently behind the elders, which was why she hadn’t remembered him clearly.
Jiang Yanzhou scoffed impatiently from the side, speaking his mind bluntly. “A child from the second marriage who’s older than the ones from the first? Uncle, you really are still in your prime, aren’t you?”
Jiang Mingqi forced a dry laugh, speaking evasively. “It’s… a long story. Just family matters. We wouldn’t want to spoil the mood of your birthday banquet, Mr. Gao…”
Huang Zhihe felt a sting in her heart, not hearing the acknowledgement she wanted, but she dared not say anything more to anger her father.
Jiang Zhiwu had no interest in Jiang Mingqi’s messy personal affairs. She turned back to Old Mr. Gao, her smile still warm. “Grandpa Gao, we’ve delivered the gift. Yanzhou and I have some other matters to attend to, so we won’t stay long. Please enjoy the celebration with everyone. We’ll come visit again another day.”
Old Mr. Gao snapped back to attention and nodded quickly. “Alright, alright. Drive safely. Shall I have my driver take you?”
“No need to trouble you, Grandpa. We brought our own driver and security,” Jiang Zhiwu replied politely. She turned and walked out with Jiang Yanzhou.
The guests immediately made way for them, smiling and bidding farewell. Several tall bodyguards escorted them all the way to the car, opening the door respectfully for Jiang Zhiwu.
Only when the black Bentley merged into the night did Huang Zhihe look away, her mind a tangle of emotions.
She had known from a young age that she was different. Her mother lived with her in a villa on the outskirts of the city. Her father only visited occasionally, bringing gifts, but he never allowed her to call him “Dad,” nor did he permit her to enter the social circles downtown freely.
Her mother always told her: “Your father is a very important man. When you grow up, he will give you the best life possible.”
She had lived her whole life waiting for that day, believing her father was a powerful figure from a prominent family. Once he was ready to acknowledge her publicly, she would finally become a true wealthy heiress.
A feeling of disdain quietly welled up inside her. She remembered the rumors she had heard about Jiang Zhiwu and her brother—
Their parents had died young, and their vast family business relied entirely on the care of elders, with the actual power resting in the hands of her father, Jiang Mingqi.
If that was the case, weren’t those two just orphans growing up under her father’s protection? How dare they put on such an impressive show?
“Dad…” Huang Zhihe turned around, her eyes slightly red as she looked at Jiang Mingqi. “I’m sorry. Was it wrong of me to go over just now? Did I cause you trouble?”
Jiang Mingqi, still recovering from the awkwardness caused by Jiang Yanzhou’s remark, saw his daughter’s expression and his irritation softened slightly. He patted her shoulder. “It’s fine. It’s nothing important.”
Huang Zhihe bit her lip, as if hesitating for a long time before speaking cautiously. “But… the way Sister Zhiwu and Brother Yanzhou spoke to you just now, wasn’t it a bit disrespectful? After all, you are their elder…” She deliberately emphasized the word “elder,” secretly watching Jiang Mingqi’s reaction.
Jiang Mingqi’s expression turned strange. His lips moved, but in the end, he only let out a vague “Hmm” and said nothing more.
Standing nearby, Jiang Ting sneered inwardly.
Just another illegitimate daughter who had never seen the real world. She probably had no idea what it meant for someone in their early twenties, like Jiang Zhiwu, to be respectfully addressed as “President Jiang” at an event attended by half the city’s elite and powerful figures.
Knowing her brother wasn’t comfortable in social settings, Jiang Zhiwu took him out for a proper meal instead.
They sat in a quiet, elegant private room at a fine restaurant. After dinner, they went for a stroll in the nearby mall.
Sales assistants followed respectfully, introducing the latest collections. Jiang Zhiwu barely glanced at the price tags. She picked up a dark grey coat and held it up against her brother. “The cut is nice. Try it on.” She then pointed to a handmade suit in the display window. “That three-piece set is perfect for formal occasions. It would go great with the watch you bought last time.”
She shopped through several stores, swiping her card decisively. Even when bills running into six figures appeared, she didn’t bat an eyelid. Even Jiang Yanzhou couldn’t help but comment, “Sis, you don’t need to buy so much. I still have plenty of new clothes in my closet that haven’t been worn yet.”
“You’re at the age where you’re growing fast. The clothes you bought last year are already too small,” Jiang Zhiwu said, straightening his collar. Her tone was gentle but firm. “Besides, if my brother looks good, it makes me proud too.”
Jiang Yanzhou couldn’t argue with her, so he took the clothes into the fitting room.
When he came out wearing a color-block hoodie, he saw Jiang Zhiwu standing by the window on a call. Her brows were slightly furrowed, her voice deeper than before. “…Understood. Have the legal department prepare the documents. I’ll be there as soon as I’m done here.”
She hung up and turned to see him. The seriousness in her eyes faded instantly. She stepped forward to adjust the slightly crooked collar. “Looks perfect.” She then took a black credit card out of her bag and handed it to him. “Something urgent came up at the company, so I have to go. If you want to shop more, pick whatever you like. Use this card.”
Jiang Yanzhou took the card, feeling the cold metal against his fingers, but his heart felt strangely empty. He kept his face calm, simply giving an “Oh” and nodding. “Okay. Drive safely.”
Jiang Zhiwu ruffled his hair and left quickly with her assistant.
Watching her figure disappear into the elevator, Jiang Yanzhou looked down at the limited-edition hoodie he was wearing. The excitement he felt trying it on earlier had completely vanished.
The expensive fabric even felt slightly itchy against his skin. He pulled the brim of his hood down, changed back into his own clothes, and walked out of the mall with just the black card in his pocket, leaving the bodyguards behind.
As night fell, the lights in the huge villa seemed cold and lonely.
He pushed open the door. The spacious living room was lit only by the cold glow of the crystal chandelier. The photo frames on the long table were still covered, and even the housekeeper had been sent to his quarters early.
Jiang Yanzhou kicked off his shoes, went straight upstairs, and threw himself onto his bed. He pulled the covers over his head, not even bothering to turn on the light.
In the darkness, the teenager curled up, his feelings a chaotic mess.
He knew his sister was busy, he knew the burden of the Jiang Group was heavy. But watching her leave in such a hurry, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of loss.
Sometime later, just as he was drifting off, there was a soft knock on the door, followed by Jiang Zhiwu’s clear voice. “Yanzhou, are you asleep?”
Jiang Yanzhou threw off the covers and sat up abruptly. “No… Sis? I thought you went to the company?”
The door opened. Jiang Zhiwu walked in and turned on the bedside lamp. The warm yellow light illuminated her smiling face. “I was on my way, but I changed my mind. I sent someone else to handle it.”
She sat on the edge of the bed and brushed her hand through his messy hair. “Compared to contracts and meetings, I’d much rather be here with you.”
Jiang Yanzhou stared blankly at her, his nose suddenly stinging.
The production team of the show *Walking Through the Door is You* had wanted to capitalize on their popularity and quickly start filming the second episode. Unfortunately, they were hit by extreme weather.
Days of clear skies were abruptly broken by a sudden torrential rain. The meteorological bureau issued red rainstorm warnings. Many roads were flooded, and traffic came to a near standstill.
The show’s official Weibo account posted an announcement early in the morning, filled with regret: “Due to extreme weather conditions, and to ensure the safety of our guests and staff, the recording of Episode 2 scheduled for today will be postponed. A new date will be announced later. Thank you for your understanding and support.”
Fans who were still buzzing from the first episode were devastated.
Just as everyone was lamenting the delay, a blurry photo from the banquet began circulating online unexpectedly.
The photo originated from the social media feed of an unknown rich kid, who had been bragging about attending Old Mr. Gao’s birthday party with the caption “A night with all the big shots.”
But what no one noticed was that in the reflection of a wine glass, two figures were accidentally captured—one stood calmly at the center of attention, relaxed and composed; the other stood slightly to the side, wearing an overly elaborate dress, looking somewhat out of place.
This accidental snapshot was screenshotted and shared until it eventually reached public platforms.
Some netizens commented:
The lady in the dark green dress has such amazing poise!
Wow, so this is what a real wealthy heiress looks like.
Most attention was focused on the girl who was clearly the center of attention, and almost no one paid attention to the other figure in the reflection.
Until someone sharp-eyed recognized the girl in the pink evening gown as Huang Zhihe. Her fans then swarmed into the comment sections.
Seeing everyone praising Jiang Zhiwu while treating their idol like background noise, the fans were unhappy:
Can nobody see Zhihe? She looks beautiful in that dress too!
Are you all blind? Ignoring her to praise someone else?
Their resentment grew like a snowball. Not only did they attack the person who posted the photo, but they also turned their anger on Jiang Zhiwu and her brother:
Showing off on purpose just to step on others and market themselves?
Both siblings are just clout chasers, so calculating.
So what if she’s rich? Zhihe is also an heiress, she’s just much more low-key.
What started as a small-scale post went viral because of the argument.
Some neutral netizens felt the fans were being overly defensive, which only made the fans angrier. They accused everyone else of being paid trolls, leading to a huge online fight.
As the discussion grew, people started noticing the middle-aged man standing next to Huang Zhihe.
Doesn’t that guy look familiar? Haven’t I seen him somewhere?
Wasn’t he interviewed on the financial news channel last year?
Before anyone could dig deeper, the photos suddenly vanished from every platform.
Watching this from her apartment, Huang Zhihe felt her heart clench.
After hesitating, she changed into simple clothes and drove through the heavy rain to her father’s residence.
The study room was filled with the scent of sandalwood. Jiang Mingqi was sitting behind his rosewood desk reviewing documents.
Huang Zhihe walked in quietly with a cup of freshly brewed tea and placed it beside him. Her voice was soft: “Dad, have some tea.”
Jiang Mingqi glanced at her but said nothing.
She asked tentatively: “The photos online… Did you have them removed?”
“Yes,” he replied, looking at her tense face.
Huang Zhihe bit her lip, twisting the hem of her clothes nervously: “I didn’t expect the fans to get so worked up. I’m sorry for causing you trouble.”
“Good that you know it’s troublesome.” Jiang Mingqi took a sip of tea, his tone softening slightly: “Your status is… sensitive. Right now, there are many people in the group watching my every move. It is not the time to make it public.”
Huang Zhihe lowered her eyes, her long lashes casting shadows on her cheeks: “I understand, Dad. It won’t happen again.”
Jiang Mingqi didn’t press the matter. His gaze fell on a document regarding personnel changes on his desk. The names of the newly promoted executives were glaring—all of them were loyal to Jiang Zhiwu.
Over the years, his position in the company had become increasingly precarious. The decision-making power he once wielded had been slowly eroded away. Soon, he would be completely pushed out of the inner circle, reduced to nothing more than a figurehead “Vice President.”
Only he knew how bitter this feeling of being sidelined was.
He needed to find a way to make Jiang Zhiwu understand that they were all part of the Jiang family. One rose or fell together. Entrusting projects to outsiders made no sense when they could be handled by her own uncle.
*
Outside the window, the rain lashed relentlessly against the glass, blurring the city into a watercolor painting.
Jiang Zhiwu typed the final period on her keyboard, leaned back in her chair, and massaged her stiff neck.
She looked over to the sofa area. Jiang Yanzhou was sitting cross-legged on the carpet, a laptop on his knees. Wearing noise-canceling headphones, he was focused on the screen, his fingers gliding over the trackpad, occasionally humming softly to a beat.
Jiang Zhiwu went to make coffee and refilled his glass of water.
Jiang Yanzhou took off one side of his headphones, his eyes still sparkling with excitement: “Done with work, Sis?”
“Yeah, just finished.” She sat beside him and picked up a sheet of music paper. It was covered in messy pencil notes and scribbles: “This style sounds softer than your last piece.”
“I want to write something calm,” Jiang Yanzhou said, his eyes lighting up as he talked about music: “You know… like when the lights are on at home in the evening, there’s soup simmering in the kitchen, and the sound of someone turning the pages of a book nearby.”
They chatted idly while the news played on the TV. The anchor was reporting seriously on the ongoing impact of the extreme weather.
Jiang Zhiwu happened to look up at the screen. Aerial footage showed muddy floodwaters covering the streets. Residential buildings were submerged up to their windows. Rescuers in orange life vests were using dinghies to evacuate people. Outside temporary shelters, victims were lined up waiting for supplies.
The smile faded from Jiang Zhiwu’s face, and her brows furrowed slightly.
Jiang Yanzhou also put down his trackpad, watching the report intently.
The images of waterlogged furniture, peeling wallpaper, and the desperate faces of the victims weighed heavily on their hearts.
After a moment of silence, Jiang Zhiwu picked up her phone and called her assistant.
“It’s me,” she said calmly and clearly: “Contact the charity foundation immediately. Transfer twenty million yuan from my personal account as a designated donation for the flood-stricken areas. Prioritize supplies for the shelters and reconstruction funds. Also, compile a list of necessary items and coordinate directly with suppliers to ensure everything is delivered as soon as possible.”
The assistant on the other end of the line quickly noted down the instructions, but before he could reply, a clear voice spoke up.
“Wait, Sis,” Jiang Yanzhou said suddenly, looking serious: “Add my concert earnings from last time too. It’s about five million. I’ll send you the account details now.”
Jiang Zhiwu looked at him in surprise, then smiled softly: “Okay.”
They said nothing more, as if they had simply done something completely ordinary.
Jiang Zhiwu organized her files while Jiang Yanzhou put his headphones back on, his fingers flying across the keyboard to write gentle melodies.
Two days later, the endless rain finally stopped, and the sky cleared to a soft blue.
Persuaded by the persistent invitation of the editor-in-chief, Jiang Zhiwu agreed to do a cover shoot for *Vogue Style* magazine together with Jiang Yanzhou.
Before the photos could even be fully retouched, the magazine’s official account eagerly released a set of preview images.
There were no fancy backdrops, just a side profile shot of the siblings sitting on a wooden sofa—Jiang Zhiwu was looking down at a magazine, while Jiang Yanzhou leaned gently against her shoulder adjusting his headphones. Warm light spilled over their faces, accompanied by the caption: “Home is the most comforting melody.”
As soon as the post went up, the renowned photographer Chen Xu, who was in charge of the shoot, expressed his admiration openly on Weibo:
“Honestly, I’ve photographed countless celebrities and public figures, but this shoot still left a deep impression on me. @Jiang Zhiwu @Jiang Yanzhou. It’s a very ‘solid’ set of photos. I don’t mean the style or the looks, but the substance. These two don’t need to act; just standing there tells a story. Can’t wait for the final release! #VogueStyleSeptemberIssue #”
The post was instantly liked by Li Bo and Lele.
The comment section quickly heated up, but it wasn’t long before discordant voices appeared.
Seeing that the siblings had landed a feature with such a prestigious magazine, Huang Zhihe’s fans couldn’t help but leave sour comments in her fan club and on fashion pages:
Isn’t the hype a little too obvious? Even the photographer is helping them market themselves.
It’s fine. Real talents don’t need these empty gestures. Zhihe succeeds purely through her own hard work.
A week later, the official account of *Walking Through the Door is You* suddenly announced: “After the storm comes the sunshine! Filming for Episode 2 is about to begin! This time, we are going undercover to capture our guests’ most authentic daily lives! The live stream link will be up shortly! See you there~”
Netizens waiting for the update were thrilled:
Oh? Are they planning to do surprise home visits? That’s bold!
Finally! It’s here! My daily dose of entertainment!
Five minutes later, the live stream went live as promised. The production team had split up into three groups, already positioned outside the residences of the guests.