After the dress was settled, Manlin Jiang began considering the issue of an outer coat.
In November, the nighttime temperature in Jingbei had already dropped to around five or six degrees Celsius. Wearing just a dress out, even if only for the short walk from the car to indoors, would be unbearable.
Manlin Jiang turned and went to the walk-in closet, taking out a camel-colored cashmere coat. The coat was made of double-faced wool fabric, with clean tailoring and a length just below the knees, perfectly covering the hem of the dress while revealing the calves.
“Wear this coat,” she handed the coat to Shen Qingyu. “The color matches the dress—camel with pale yellow, very soft.”
Shen Qingyu took the coat and tried it on. The cut was slightly loose, but the shoulder line was well-tailored, so it didn’t look bulky. Camel and pale yellow indeed complemented each other—one subdued, the other bright, surprisingly harmonious together.
“Take off the coat once you’re indoors and just wear the dress,” Manlin Jiang helped adjust the collar of the coat. “It looks good.”
Shen Qingyu turned in front of the mirror to confirm everything was in order.
“Alright, that’s settled,” Manlin Jiang nodded with satisfaction, then glanced at her watch.
It was half past five.
“Time is about right,” she said. “The dinner is at seven. If there’s no traffic, it’s half an hour on the road, but we should still allow extra time for traffic. It’s also more polite to arrive a bit early, so we don’t keep others waiting. Let’s leave at ten past six.”
Shen Qingyu nodded.
“Go hang up the coat first, then rest for a bit,” Manlin Jiang said. “Come downstairs on time later.”
Manlin Jiang returned to the master bedroom to get herself ready.
Her style had always been sharp and efficient, but for tonight’s occasion, she didn’t want to dress too business-like. Suit sets were reserved for courtrooms and meeting rooms. For a dinner where two families sat together, she preferred to dress more softly.
She walked around the walk-in closet, her gaze settling on a haze-blue dress. The dress was made of pure cashmere, soft to the touch and of moderate thickness—perfect for wearing in a heated room. The design was simple: a round neckline, fitted waist, and a hemline just below the knees, swaying gently with each step—elegant yet measured.
She took it off the hanger and held it up to the full-length mirror. Haze-blue was understated but had a sense of quality, matching the temperament of her age—steady, composed, with no need for overly bright colors to prove anything.
For accessories, she chose a pair of diamond stud earrings—small but sparkling, complementing the understated Patek Philippe women’s watch on her wrist. Her wedding ring, a simple platinum band, had remained on her ring finger for decades, never taken off.
For shoes, she picked a pair of light gray lambskin high heels with a six-centimeter heel, the color belonging to the same palette as the dress, making the overall look coordinated and gentle.
For an outer coat, she chose a cream-white cashmere coat, slightly longer than the dress. Cream-white paired with haze-blue looked clean and sophisticated.
She did her own makeup, slightly heavier than Shen Qingyu’s but still restrained. The reddish-brown lipstick was her signature color, instantly giving her the aura of “Lawyer Jiang”—sharp, efficient, not to be trifled with, yet still retaining feminine refinement.
She gave herself a final check in the mirror, ensuring every detail was in place.
Shen Huaiting had already changed and was waiting in the living room.
He was wearing a three-piece suit in deep charcoal gray tonight, his standard attire for important occasions. The tailoring came from the best bespoke suit shop in Jingbei, the fabric was imported British worsted wool, heavy in texture with excellent drape.
The shirt was pure white with French cuffs, fastened at the wrists by a pair of silver cufflinks. The cufflinks were a gift from Manlin Jiang for his fiftieth birthday, engraved with his initials—”H.T.”
The tie was a Gucci dark gray with a subtle pattern, understated yet full of texture.
His leather shoes were polished to a spotless shine, reflecting the light on their surface.
Although Shen Huaiting was already fifty, his posture was upright and his demeanor steady. Standing there, he embodied the image of a successful law firm leader.
At six-ten, Shen Qingyu came downstairs.
She wore that camel-colored coat, carrying a small light apricot handbag—just the right size to hold a few essentials for going out. On her feet were those nude high heels, each step on the stairs producing a crisp sound.
Shen Huaiting sat on the sofa in the living room and looked up at the sound.
When he saw his daughter descending the stairs, his gaze lingered.
The pale yellow hem of her dress peeked out from beneath the camel coat, and her pearl earrings glowed softly under the light. She wore light makeup, her features more refined than when bare-faced, with something in her expression he wasn’t quite familiar with—not the childishness of her youth, nor the naivety of her student days, but a perfect maturity somewhere between girlhood and womanhood.
Shen Huaiting stood up, looking at her, momentarily speechless.
“Dad,” Shen Qingyu stepped off the last stair and smiled at him, “How do I look?”
Shen Huaiting looked at her, his eyes growing slightly warm for a moment, but he quickly suppressed it.
“Beautiful,” he said, his voice a little hoarse, “Especially beautiful.”
He paused, then added, “Your mother has excellent taste.”
Manlin Jiang happened to come downstairs just then and laughed upon hearing this. “Is it just my taste? It’s our daughter’s natural beauty that’s key.”
She walked over to Shen Qingyu, looking her up and down. “Perfect,” she said, her tone filled with unconcealed satisfaction.
Shen Huaiting glanced at his wife, his eyes full of admiration. Manlin Jiang’s outfit today was indeed lovely—the dress perfectly highlighted her well-maintained figure, and the off-white coat gave her a gentle, refined look. At fifty, standing beside her twenty-six-year-old daughter, she didn’t seem overshadowed at all.
“You look beautiful too,” he said to Manlin Jiang with a smile.
Manlin Jiang’s lips curved slightly at the compliment. “Let’s go, it’s about time,” she said, picking up her handbag and heading toward the door.
Shen Qingyu followed her mother, with Shen Huaiting bringing up the rear.
The three stepped outside, greeted by a gust of cold wind. Shen Qingyu tightened her coat.
Driver Lao Zhang was already waiting by the entrance.
Lao Zhang had been driving for the Shen family for over twenty years. In his early fifties, he was a man of few words but utterly reliable. Seeing them come out, he had already opened the rear door, and the engine had been warmed up in advance, filling the car with cozy warmth.
“Sir, Madam, Miss,” Lao Zhang stood by the car door, giving a slight bow.
“Lao Zhang, to Pei Garden,” Shen Huaiting said.
“Of course, sir,” Lao Zhang replied respectfully.
Shen Qingyu and Manlin Jiang sat in the back seat, while Shen Huaiting took the passenger seat. This was their family’s habit—since childhood, Shen Qingyu had always accompanied her mother in the back, while Shen Huaiting would sit in the front and chat with Old Zhang about daily matters.
The car drove out of the villa area, merged into the traffic flow, and headed toward the eastern part of the city.