Inside the main banquet hall of the forum, glasses clinked amidst lively chatter. Every single guest present was a regular fixture on the front pages of major financial news outlets, individuals whose slightest move could trigger a massive wave across the markets.
When Qi Zhicheng arrived, the atmosphere in the hall shifted subtly. Well-dressed entrepreneurs quickly assumed polite smiles, turning slightly to nod in his direction.
At a high-stakes card table of this caliber, everyone knew that reckless flattery would only cheapen their own worth and invite irritation.
No one dared to step forward lightly.
Except for Qin Size.
“You’re late.”
Qin Size walked up, holding a champagne flute, a trace of a smile playing on his lips.
Qi Zhicheng took a wine glass offered by a passing waiter. “Had some business.”
Qin Size arched an eyebrow. “Must have been important business then.”
Qi Zhicheng remained noncommittal. He loosened his tie slightly, his gaze casually sweeping across the unoccupied banquet tables. “Not starting yet?”
Qin Size swirled the liquid in his glass and laughed.
“Without you here, who would dare to start the banquet?”
Qin Size leaned in slightly. “But seriously, flying all the way from Huaicheng… you can’t possibly be here just for this mind-numbingly boring financial forum, can you?”
“Aren’t you the one who hates commercial activities like this the most? What exactly has brought your esteemed self here this time?”
Qi Zhicheng replied coldly, “You talk too much.”
The deep, resonant strains of a cello flowed through the banquet hall. The lights dimmed a fraction, leaving only the soft glow of the hanging lamps over the dining tables.
The main table finally commenced.
Qi Zhicheng sat at the head of the table, the delicacies in front of him practically untouched. He showed little interest, his fingers occasionally brushing against the ring band on his ring finger.
Qin Size sat beside him, taking in his distraction.
A waiter stepped up quietly, leaning down to whisper in Qi Zhicheng’s ear, “Mr. Qi, Miss Jiang is sound asleep.”
The focus returned to Qi Zhicheng’s eyes, which had been drifted. He let out a brief murmur of assent, and the waiter retreated silently.
“I was wondering why you suddenly came to North City. Now I remember there’s some ballet competition happening here these few days.”
Qin Size’s gaze pointedly swept over the platinum ring on Qi Zhicheng’s ring finger. He chuckled with understanding. “So you’re here to accompany your lovely little wife.”
He gestured toward the balcony. “It’s stuffy in here. Join me for a smoke?”
The balcony was empty and spacious, the distant city lights twinkling in the thick darkness of the night.
Qin Size pulled out a cigarette pack and expertly shook one out, offering it to him.
Qi Zhicheng waved his hand to decline. “Quit.”
“Quit?” Qin Size raised an eyebrow. “You used to say nicotine is an analgesic, the best way to keep you calm.”
“Yes,” Qi Zhicheng stared into the night. “But I don’t need it anymore.”
“Because of her?”
Qi Zhicheng didn’t answer.
During those years in the United States, he had been addicted to the thrill of dangerous games.
New York’s neon-lit, colorful world allowed the madness in his bones to be unleashed without reservation.
The trading floors of Wall Street were filled with madmen playing with the world.
He played monetary games with wild abandon, hundreds of millions of funds shifting in milliseconds. He relished the thrill of control and domination, enjoying the sight of losers groveling at his feet like lowly seaweed.
He tirelessly walked the edge of the rules, obsessed with the thrill of dangling himself on a tightrope. When he went mad, he would even gamble with his own life.
Nicotine had been his way of maintaining that hazardous equilibrium.
Until he met Jiang Man.
He discovered that there was a stabilizer far more effective than nicotine.
She made him feel more alive than any cigarette or strong liquor ever could.
The glowing ember of the cigarette flared and faded in the dark. Qin Size leaned against the stone balustrade, looking at the silent man beside him. “When you first announced your marriage, we all thought you had lost your mind.”
Qi Zhicheng chuckled softly. “On the contrary, that was the moment I was most sober.”
“In a flash, you’ve been married for three years already,” Qin Size exhaled a cloud of smoke, remarking with emotion. “At the time, we all thought you were just playing around. We even wondered if you were just starting an even more twisted game… like manipulating a marriage?”
“You’re overthinking.”
Qin Size flicked his cigarette ash, his eyes filled with scrutiny. “So, you’ve never thought about when it’ll end?”
The night was as deep as ink.
Beneath the balcony, a steady stream of traffic sped by.
Qi Zhicheng gazed out at the distant, dark blue skyline, his deep eyes unreadable.
“Probably the day I die.”
The week-long preliminary round of the North City International Ballet Competition finally came to an end.
The entire event was broadcast live online. The cameras swept across the judges’ panel, the contestants on stage, and finally settled on the giant screen displaying the list of finalists.
The host read the names of the advancing dancers one by one. When Jiang Man’s name was called, she glided from the contestants’ seating area to the center of the stage with a brief, elegant walk.
Tapping her toes lightly with her arms extended, she delivered a textbook ballet bow to thank the audience. The hall erupted in thunderous applause.
The next day, Jiang Man flew back to Huaicheng. The glass of the airport boarding bridge reflected her slightly exhausted silhouette.
After boarding, she received a call from Kari, the client manager at The Elara.
“Miss Jiang, the haute couture fishtail gown you previously sent to our care center has finished maintenance. We are preparing to ship it back to you.”
The roar of the plane engines gradually grew louder as the flight attendants performed their final safety checks.
Jiang Man sat by the window. “What fishtail gown?”
“We spoke on the phone before, the one with the stain that couldn’t be completely cleaned out. We originally wanted to recreate one for you, but you said there was no need and requested the original to be returned.”
Only then did Jiang Man remember the dress.
At the time, because of the dark red stain on the gown, she had mistakenly suspected Qi Zhicheng of domestic violence.
Thinking about it now felt rather laughable.
Jiang Man: “Alright, just ship it back. Thank you for your help.”
“My pleasure. Let me quickly confirm the delivery address with you,” Kari asked. “Is it going to the usual address, Block A, Nanwan Huating, Huaicheng?”
Jiang Man froze.
Nanwan Huating?
What is that place?
She had never heard of this address.
Just as Jiang Man was about to ask, a flight attendant stepped to her side, reminding her with a polite smile, “Ma’am, the plane is about to take off. Please turn off your mobile phone or switch it to flight mode.”
Jiang Man quickly agreed. Having no time to ponder the Nanwan Huating address Kari had mentioned, she gave her a different one: “Send it to Songyuan, Huaicheng.”
Hanging up, Jiang Man put on her eye mask to rest. The continuous exhaustion left her head groggy, leaving her with no energy to dwell on the matter.
Returning to the Huaiba troupe, she would need all her strength to handle the casting assessment for director Li Kaiyi.
Preparations for the new production, Saint Teresa’s Illusion, had quietly begun. Although the official casting date hadn’t arrived, the rivalry for the roles was already swirling with undercurrents.
On this day, Li Kaiyi, who was usually absent from the dance troupe, suddenly made a surprise appearance, stating he wanted to observe the condition of each dancer.
As one of Huaiba’s earliest principal dancers, Xu Yining’s professional skill and expressive power were unquestionable.
Every turn and jump she executed was flawless. Her toes traced beautiful arcs in the air, landing feather-light.
Sitting to the side, Li Kaiyi nodded slightly.
When it was Jiang Man’s turn, she had just walked to the barre when a wave of dizziness washed over her.
Steading herself, she took a deep breath, adjusted her state, and began to dance to the music.
After several leaps, fine beads of sweat quickly broke out on her forehead. Forcing herself through the discomfort, she finally ended her performance as the last note fell, bowing to Li Kaiyi before exiting the floor.
“Was the ballet competition in North City fun?”
As she passed Xu Yining, the latter suddenly spoke up.
“If you can’t stand steadily, it’s better not to get on stage in the first place.” Xu Yining crossed her arms, assessing her. “That shaky display of yours just now, anyone who didn’t know better would think you were drunk.”
Jiang Man’s head felt heavy and congested. Not wanting to engage, she walked straight past her.
Xu Yining reached out to block her. “What, can’t even speak now?”
“What is there for me to say to you?” Jiang Man cast a sideways glance at her. “Coming over just to spout nonsense is incredibly boring.”
“Boring?” Xu Yining countered. “I just wanted to tell you that the role of Saint Teresa is not suited for you.”
“If I were an audience member and walked into the theater to see a Saint Teresa acting like a pile of mush, I’d throw white handkerchiefs all over the stage during the curtain call.”
Jiang Man’s chest heaved. She wanted to argue, but her head was pounding fiercely.
Worse, Xu Yining kept up her sarcastic remarks, “Do me a favor: look in the mirror before you get on stage next time and take a good look at yourself. Watching you like that, I feel embarrassed on your behalf.”
Xu Yining cut herself off mid-sentence, the words catching in her throat.
She watched as Jiang Man, without any warning, collapsed backward onto the floor.
Jiang Man felt as though she had slept for an incredibly long time.
She had dreamed of many fragmented, bizarre things.
In her dream, she saw a small, warm yellow flame.
She unconsciously huddled closer, pressing her body tightly against the heat source, feeling so warm, so incredibly safe.
Her eyelashes fluttered several times, and Jiang Man slowly opened her eyes.
What met her gaze was her familiar bedroom decor, with soft light filtering through the French windows and spilling onto a corner of the bed.
Her head throbbed slightly, and she reached up to press her temple.
But the moment she moved, she sensed something was off.
She looked down.
She found herself holding onto a man’s arm tightly. The strong contour of his arm was clearly defined even through the fabric of his shirt.
And one side of her cheek was still resting, with deep attachment, in his broad palm.
Jiang Man stiffened. She slowly raised her head, following his arm upward, only to instantly lock eyes with a pair of deep, dark eyes.