Ji Mingyu followed behind Professor Zhou Chongli, lost in thought, when she heard the middle-aged man who had come out to greet them speak.
Wang Hongming, head of Hong'en Cultural Tourism, wore a warm, gracious smile.
“Professor Zhou, we’ll be relying on you to put a lot of thought into this ancient-city development project.”
He led the way as he spoke.
“Let’s work together to make this project a renowned tourist destination in Nanzhou City, so that whenever people from elsewhere think of Nanzhou City, they’ll think of our ancient city.”
Professor Zhou Chongli nodded slightly, his tone measured.
“That won’t be easy. But as long as we find the right approach and come up with a distinctive, suitable model, it can succeed.”
Wang Hongming nodded in agreement, then changed tack.
“Our group and the government are investing heavily in this ancient city for the sake of cultural tourism in Nanzhou City.”
“I was thinking we could use a proven template from another city for our ancient street: uniform Suzhou-style eaves and facades, with the usual nationwide mix of cultural and creative shops, Hanfu rentals, and chain snack shops along the street.
The tenants and construction plans are all ready to go. We could have it open for business in six months.”
He glanced at Professor Zhou and added,
“The shops will be easy to lease, and we’ll recover our cash quickly. It’s a safe bet with no risk of things going wrong. Every popular ancient town in China is using this model now. Once it’s up and running, we can quickly draw in visitors.”
Professor Zhou’s brow furrowed slightly.
He didn’t answer right away.
If they already had this plan, what had they brought him in for?
Just to lend his name to it so they could use it as a talking point?
Standing behind Professor Zhou, Ji Mingyu listened in silence and pressed her lips together.
“President Wang, forgive me for speaking out of turn.”
Wang Hongming turned to look at her.
Ji Mingyu’s tone was calm. “That proven template you just described is no longer suitable.”
Wang Hongming’s smile faded a little.
“Tourism today is all about finding what makes a place distinctive. The more distinctive it is, the more popular it becomes.
“If Nanzhou City’s ancient street simply copies the old templates again, it’ll already be outdated. It might draw crowds for a little while, but once visitors have been there, they won’t come back.”
The smile disappeared from Wang Hongming’s face.
He waved a hand, his tone carrying a hint of impatience, though he maintained a basic degree of politeness.
“Miss Ji, you may be highly educated, but you’ve never been involved in managing a company.
“When we take on a project, we can’t be too idealistic. We have to think about how to get it up and running quickly and recover our costs fast. The standardized template I just described is a tried-and-true operating model—”
Ji Mingyu nodded, neither deferential nor confrontational.
“You’re right, President Wang. We can’t be too idealistic when we take on a project.”
Then she turned the argument around.
“But I often hear my father say that the most profitable businesses are the ones no one else has.”
“The same principle applies to Nanzhou City’s ancient-city project. With a little more thought, we wouldn’t have to delay construction by much. We might even finish well ahead of the timeline you have in mind, President Wang.”
Ji Mingyu noticed Wang Hongming’s expression change—from perfunctory to attentive.
Beside her, Professor Zhou nodded slightly.
He was signaling for her to continue.
“Nanzhou City’s ancient street has a character all its own. That’s what sets it apart. There’s no need to redevelop the whole thing.
“If we preserve its original appearance and make appropriate repairs, while retaining the everyday life of its residents, that authentic, bustling street life will itself be the ancient district’s most distinctive attraction.”
She glanced at Wang Hongming’s expression and continued.
“Have the residents of the ancient street wear Hanfu, preserve the old shops, delve into Nanzhou City’s distinctive performances, and then use folk-culture IPs to keep those attractions running year-round.”
Wang Hongming fell silent.
About half a minute later, he suddenly smiled. The perfunctory quality was gone from his smile, replaced by genuine appreciation.
“Professor Zhou,” he said, turning to look at him, “you’ve found yourself a fine student.”
Then he looked at Ji Mingyu.
“Miss Ji, put what you’ve just said into a proposal. We’ll continue discussing it at next week’s seminar.”
After Wang Hongming walked away, Professor Zhou turned his head and glanced at Ji Mingyu.
There was approval in his eyes, but he didn’t spare her any mercy in what he said.
“Didn’t I tell you to talk less? Listen to you, chattering away like a frog—noisier than one, even.”
Ji Mingyu smiled, her eyes curving.
She could see it clearly: Professor Zhou might complain, but the pride in his eyes and the way his mouth tipped upward gave him away.
“Teacher,” she said, leaning toward him sweetly, “there was no need for you to speak up in that situation. It was your student’s job to argue back. You’re the face of our history department—you can’t lower yourself.”
Professor Zhou laughed at that and pointed a finger at her.
“You’re quite the smooth talker.”
In a corner of the venue,
No one noticed the tall, straight-backed man standing beside a leafy green plant.
His dark gray suit was sharply tailored, giving him a composed, austere air.
He stood off to the side, away from the center of the room, keeping a low profile. But Wang Hongming’s entire conversation with Ji Mingyu had reached his ears, every word.
He turned his head slightly and spoke in a low, even voice.
“Assistant Wang, who was the woman speaking with President Wang just now?”
“Chairman, that woman is Professor Zhou’s student,”
Assistant Wang stepped forward half a pace and lowered his voice. “She’s also the Ji Group heiress, Miss Ji Mingyu.”
At the first part, Sheng Xiuwen’s eyes held a flicker of satisfaction.
Anyone Professor Zhou took on as a student was sure to be capable.
Then came the second part: heiress to the Ji Group.
Sheng Xiuwen’s gaze paused.
Oh.
The corner of his mouth twitched almost imperceptibly.
Wasn’t she the prospective marriage-alliance match for his nephew?
Then he couldn’t lure her into his company.
What a pity.
He looked away, lifted the glass in his hand, and took a slow sip.
She couldn’t work for him after all.
Professor Zhou took Ji Mingyu around the venue, introducing her to quite a few people.
Maybe because she hadn’t slept well these past two days, and because the venue was crowded and stuffy, Ji Mingyu felt her head growing heavy, with a dull ache at her temples.
She tugged lightly at Professor Zhou’s sleeve and lowered her voice. “Teacher, I’m going outside for some air.”
Professor Zhou looked at her and nodded, reminding her, “Don’t wander off.”
Ji Mingyu answered softly and slipped out through a side door without drawing attention.
There was a small garden behind the banquet hall, a peaceful spot amid the bustle. Ji Mingyu sat down on a bench and finally felt better.
She was sitting there in a daze when, from the corner of her eye, she saw a young man emerge nearby.
He had a sharp, simian face, and his thin frame was swallowed up by an ill-fitting suit. From a distance, he looked like a monkey.
He walked straight toward Ji Mingyu, wearing what he clearly thought was a well-mannered smile.
“Hello, Miss Ji.” He held out his hand. “I’m from Lin Pharmaceuticals. Lin Jiaye.”
For a moment, Ji Mingyu was at a loss. Who?
Still, she maintained her polite expression, lightly shook his hand, and smiled. “Hello.”
What was this about? She didn’t even know him.
Lin Jiaye continued, his tone carrying a hint of calculated sincerity.
“I’ve long admired you, Miss Ji. Would you do me the honor of becoming my friend?”
Ji Mingyu’s smile remained unchanged, though inwardly she had already begun to weigh the situation.
Lin Pharmaceuticals—everyone knew it was a behemoth too, and certainly not a company Ji Group could measure up to.
She looked up at the face before her.
A pointed chin, tiny eyes, and uneven teeth when he smiled.
Ji Mingyu quietly looked away.
She was beginning to realize she might not care about money quite as much as she’d thought.