Liang Huiming

Fu Liangxia hadn't been entirely sure what the other party meant; she was just walking back the way she'd come. Unexpectedly, as soon as she reached the elevator, someone appeared at her side.

The man still had that elite air about him—a pair of refined glasses, a tall, slender build—and the look he swept over her carried that insufferable sense of everything being under control.

She instinctively lifted her lips into a smile. "I just came out to find the restroom. I don't know what Secretary Feng means."

What a pretender.

Seeing that perpetually cool, aloof face suddenly break into this sly little fox of a smile, Feng Qian couldn't help but mutter inwardly.

That expression didn't look out of place on her; rather, it was as if she'd revealed her true nature, vividly alive.

But Feng Qian had no mood to appreciate it.

His boss was still in the private room, caught in the thick of it—how could he dare let this girl keep playing her games? He cut straight to the point. "You won't want to miss this opportunity."

Fu Liangxia raised an eyebrow but said nothing, waiting for him to continue.

A moment later, she understood.

So this gilded, opulent club wasn't actually Fu Langshu's aesthetic at all.

In the private room beside Feng Qian, besides Fu Langshu, sat a partner of Fu Corporation.

His name was Liang Huiming—the third son of Hong Kong's wealthiest magnate, and the founder of Huiming Technology. At just twenty-six, he'd already squeezed his way into the ranks of leading tech enterprises thanks to several highly successful investments in the mainland.

A company that could rise so quickly, displacing numerous established family firms, wasn't something out of a novel—it wasn't just a few negotiations, a few underhanded tricks, a bit of scheming to edge out rivals, that could make it grow so fast in such a short time.

Backed by the towering Liang family, no one knew exactly how much capital Huiming Technology commanded, or how much talent it had. The moment it entered the mainland, it set off a tech frenzy with its proprietary patents, sending the old established home-appliance companies scrambling to develop overnight, desperately trying to catch up to a version that was at least five years ahead of them.

And Liang Huiming, after reaping enormous profits from gutting those family businesses, didn't continue to dig deeper—or rather, his abundant capital could easily support investments in other industries.

He set his sights on the chip industry, one of Fu Corporation's core specialties.

But dealing with Fu Corporation couldn't be as casual as with other companies. No matter how wealthy Huiming was, a full-blown feud with Fu Corporation would only end in mutual ruin.

So Liang Huiming had cornered a vice president of Fu Corporation at some banquet, expressing a desire to meet the person in charge and discuss cooperation.

To escape the locust-like ravages of Huiming Technology, that VP was more than happy to oblige. He eagerly brokered a meeting between the two young leaders.

That meeting, however, was complicated. The good news was that Liang Huiming readily agreed to the proposal—a joint development of new chips by both companies, which was precisely the Fu family's project.

The bad news was that, when he got off work that afternoon, Fu Langshu received a bouquet of flowers from Liang Huiming.

—Yes, this young scion from Hong Kong was into both men and women.

Fu Langshu's face darkened on the spot.

But given the man's behavior, if the cooperation deal were to fall through, it wasn't hard to imagine the havoc he'd wreak on the chip industry with that manic streak of his.

If Liang Huiming were just an ordinary person, that would be one thing. But he had the backing of the Liang family. The Hong Kong Liang family was on par with the Fu family. Unless absolutely necessary, Fu Haoyao didn't want to antagonize them.

"So, he doesn't like men, but he also doesn't dare openly reject Liang Huiming, and so he wants me to play the villain?"

After listening to Secretary Feng's emotionless summary, Fu Liangxia figured it all out and said with a smile.

The words were phrased as a question, but she delivered them in a tone that was pure statement.

Tonight wasn't really about Fu Langshu inviting her and Fu Haoyao to dinner—it was his meeting with Liang Huiming, a trap he had to walk into, and he'd deliberately brought her along to stir up trouble.

As for Fu Haoyao, he was probably just an afterthought.

And the exchange event he'd mentioned when he drove her home last night—it wasn't because of their two companies' cooperation, or because of her dozen or so affection points; it was a prepaid bargaining chip.

If she did well, the door to high society would crack open a little wider for her. If she didn't, she could forget about the exchange event.

Truly a businessman through and through—never once at a loss himself.

Fu Liangxia felt a flicker of annoyance at being manipulated. He'd clearly calculated that she wouldn't pass up the chance to attend the exchange, and so he felt confident using her.

And indeed, as he'd predicted, despite her subtle irritation, she would still play along for him.

But there was one thing Fu Liangxia didn't quite understand. She asked Feng Qian, "Why me?"

Fu Langshu sat in that position—plenty of women would jump at the chance to do his bidding, and what they'd give in return might even cost less than what she'd extract from him.

After all, even for the Fu family, getting two invitation letters in Haishi wasn't something you could just casually obtain.

Hearing this, Feng Qian glanced down at her with a hint of surprise, saying meaningfully, "Probably because Miss Fu does seem like the type the president would fancy."

"And your identity is also perfect." He pointed at the school uniform she was wearing.

Fu Liangxia froze for a moment, then suddenly understood what he was hinting at.

Only someone her age could act impulsive and willful—like disrupting her boyfriend's dinner—and have it seem perfectly reasonable, without drawing real anger, only the impression of a young girl who didn't know any better.

Seen that way, she really was the most suitable person for this role.

Fu Liangxia gave a faint pout. For the sake of the invitation, she'd endure it.

But she wasn't about to do a losing deal without collecting some interest—after all, Fu Langshu was a capturable target too...

"Anything I do is fine?"

"Just don't go too far."

Feng Qian's eyes fixed on her, hoping she'd show some restraint.

After all, the boss hadn't hired some outside woman for this precisely because he feared they'd deliberately get handsy during the act, taking advantage of him.

Fu Liangxia gave him a look that was hard to describe—clearly she'd caught his meaning.

"Don't worry, I don't like old men." The girl said coolly.

With that, she pulled out her phone and used its black screen to tidy her hair. Her long, dark locks fell over her shoulders, catching the light with a beautiful sheen.

Feng Qian, a year older than Fu Langshu and arbitrarily labeled "old"... "..."

Somehow, he felt wounded.

"That's for the best." He tugged at the corner of his mouth.

But his gaze lingered on the girl before him a beat longer than necessary before looking away.

She really was smart, and sharp.

When the boss had first proposed this plan, Feng Qian hadn't been optimistic. Not because he looked down on Fu Liangxia's abilities, but because he worried she'd seem too student-like, not convincing enough.

But now, the girl merely flicked her hair, her eyes shifting slightly as she looked at the screen, and her whole bearing radiated a different quality.

Her soft, youthful figure rose and fell beneath the crisply pressed school uniform, her delicate profile, the slender swan neck, the straight legs beneath the skirt...

Feng Qian silently turned his head, averting his gaze.

"Seeing Secretary Feng like this, I feel reassured."

Not missing the man's movement beside her, Fu Liangxia suddenly put away her phone and shot him a fake smile.

"Like what you see, uncle?"

Feng Qian's face instantly darkened.

Who was her uncle?

Yet the girl's voice was light and airy, carrying a careless innocence that made it impossible to hold any grudge against her.

Feng Qian helplessly pinched the bridge of his nose, signaling surrender. "Go on in—the president is still waiting."

...

When Fu Liangxia pushed open the door to the private room, the scene inside wasn't as unsavory as she'd imagined—probably because Liang Huiming was also someone of standing, unlikely to do anything so blatantly coercive.

And before coming in, based on Feng Qian's description, Fu Liangxia had already mentally assigned him a bloated, greasy face. But a quick glance proved entirely wrong.

Liang Huiming wasn't just not ugly—he was almost obscenely handsome.

He wore a bright yellow floral shirt, no tie, collar slightly undone, wide cuffs—and with that face straight out of a Hong Kong drama lead, he carried an air of rakish charm.

Though how he looked had little to do with her. She shifted her gaze to the person she was actually looking for.

Fu Langshu sat a seat away from him, his expression showing not a trace of impatience, still that unshakable calm as if Mount Tai could crumble before him.

But in a spot only Fu Liangxia could see, he reached out and lightly tapped the chair seat twice, as if urging her to come over.

Fine. For the sake of those two invitation letters.

"Langshu-ge—"

Fu Liangxia had been building her expression since she walked in. Now, with a tremulous call of his name, her voice was more pleasant than a nightingale's.

Two scorching gazes snapped toward her.

Fu Liangxia pretended not to notice. With a little bow of her head and a lift, her delicate face was suddenly a pitiful picture on the verge of tears, her pretty eyes rimmed with red, brimming with tears.

That rain-soaked, pear-blossom look made both men at the table freeze for a moment.

"How could you leave me all alone? Didn't you say you'd spend today with me? I thought some little vixen outside had lured you away..."

"Little vixen" Liang Huiming: "..."

At the girl's soft, coquettish crying, he inexplicably felt a twinge of awkwardness inside. Though the "vixen" was fake, it was true he'd had designs on Fu Langshu before.

But now, Liang Huiming's gaze swept almost imperceptibly over her impossibly slender waist, and he couldn't help but run his tongue over his back teeth.

Damn. That's thin.

Liang Huiming: "And this is?"

Fu Langshu gently scolded, "Xiaoxia, don't make a fuss."

Though it was a reprimand, Liang Huiming detected a note of indulgence in it, which startled him a little.

He'd assumed she might be a junior in Fu Langshu's family, but looking at it now, that seemed entirely wrong.

The man stood, firmly taking one of the girl's hands, and pulled her to the seat beside him.

Fu Liangxia was pressed into the chair, her performance suddenly cut short mid-act.

With Fu Langshu shielding her like this, who was her brilliant acting supposed to be for? Him?

That would waste the tears she'd worked so hard to summon.

Fu Liangxia adjusted her sitting position slightly to ensure Liang Huiming could see half her face from his angle, then looked up again, pitifully. "I'm not making a fuss. You're the one who didn't keep your word."

"I'm doing something important here."

Fu Langshu appeared helpless.

But the man, whose back was turned to Liang Huiming, looked down at her—his expression was completely at odds with his tone. He simply watched her one-woman show with utter calm.

Fu Liangxia: "..."

Afraid that if she kept staring at him she'd go blank-faced too and look unprofessional, she craned her head to glance at Liang Huiming, who was quietly watching the drama, and said, "What important thing? Can't I hear it?"

Liang Huiming: ...

He vaguely felt he was being subtly targeted, but he had no proof.

He spoke up, playing peacemaker: "Of course not. Just a small matter between adults."

Liang Huiming's gaze swept over her school uniform, deliberately suggestive.

Provoked by that look, the girl bristled and straightened her back. "I'm almost an adult too, aren't I, Fu Langshu?"

She'd dropped the "Langshu-ge" entirely, clearly knowing which tone matched which address.

Fu Langshu's temple twitched. Dedicated, she was.

He paused for a moment, then raised a hand and pressed it onto her shoulder.

"Right, you're almost an adult too, but what we're discussing isn't convenient for you to hear."

"What can't your girlfriend hear?" Fu Liangxia doubled down on her willful act.

Finally hitting the key point, she diverted some attention to gauge Liang Huiming's expression: since Fu Langshu was already spoken for, he should give up, right?

But when she lifted her eyes, she met his gaze head-on.

She saw the interest in Liang Huiming's eyes hadn't diminished at all—if anything, it had deepened.

Fu Liangxia: "..."

Could he have some other strange kink? Then this move of Fu Langshu's wasn't very clever.

Fortunately, the man merely raised a hand with great decorum, saying with double meaning, "A gentleman doesn't covet what another treasures. Since this young lady had plans with you first, we can catch up another time."

"After all, the social circle is small—we're bound to run into each other again." That was the implication that he wouldn't be offering a private invitation again.

Fu Langshu didn't respond. He stood there, returning the gaze.

It was strange—this was clearly the outcome he'd wanted. Yet meeting Liang Huiming's inscrutable smile, he suddenly felt uncertain whether bringing Fu Liangxia into this had been right after all.

On the surface, he still smiled, dark eyes curving slightly as he gave a slight bow. "Then I won't keep you, President Liang. See you later. Apologies for the poor hospitality—please make sure this meal is charged to my account."

With that worry settled, Fu Langshu appeared magnanimous, as if he'd never been troubled by the man's pursuit at all.

Naturally, he didn't notice that as Fu Liangxia followed him out, she turned back and exchanged a glance with the man inside.

Undercurrents stirred.

Pushing open the private room door, Fu Langshu still maintained the pose of holding the girl's hand that he'd kept up in front of Liang Huiming.

Not far away, Fu Haoyao was looking over from across Secretary Feng, his gaze fixed on their intertwined hands, his expression unreadable.