Chapter 102

The Shen and Xie families’ celebration banquet wasn’t just a private affair between the two clans—it was also an opportunity to invite society’s elite. The banquet itself was secondary; the real purpose was to expand connections.

Of course, that was also Qi Xu’s reason for attending. He didn’t care how grandly the event turned out; what mattered was whether he could meet anyone useful for his next move.

Early that morning, his assistant and Li Kaixing knocked on his door. Qi Xu answered, fresh out of the shower, his hair still damp.

Every time Li Kaixing stepped into his boss’s apartment, he felt like he’d walked into a model showroom—spotless, impersonal, and all done up in black, white, and gray.

At least the scattered red cigarette packs proved that his boss wasn’t a machine. A robot wouldn’t smoke.

The assistant immediately opened the fridge to check the groceries she’d stocked the previous week. Unsurprisingly, the bottled water was gone, and the food was untouched.

She sighed. “Boss, you haven’t eaten any of this.”

Qi Xu didn’t like people moving around in his space, so there was no housekeeper—just a cleaning crew that came at fixed times.

Drying his hair as he walked into the dressing room, Qi Xu replied casually, “Been ordering from hotels lately. Don’t worry, I’m not starving.”

A glance into the trash bin confirmed it—fancy hotel takeout bags. She decided she’d better not comment.

There was an unspoken rule in their team: anyone who went to pick up the boss had to go upstairs and make sure he was still alive and functioning.

A few months back, after a string of nonstop meetings and social events, Qi Xu hadn’t answered his phone one morning. They’d rushed to his place and found him unconscious, burning up with fever.

The doctor later warned that he had heart palpitations, anxiety symptoms, and severe insomnia. His entire body was sounding alarms.

Qi Xu had promised to slow down—but with a promotion on the line, stopping wasn’t an option. Now that he’d secured the vice president position, too many people were depending on him to pause.

He dressed in a crisp suit and checked himself in the mirror. That, for him, was the most respect he could give this banquet.

He wore no watch, no jewelry—just a simple pair of cufflinks. Yet the tailored suit on his tall frame made him look effortlessly distinguished.

When Li Kaixing and the assistant saw him, their eyes lit up. Their boss’s good looks were their pride.

He didn’t need adornment—his face and posture did the work.

The banquet was already in full swing when they arrived. The entire Shen family was present; Shen Fengkai had brought his fiancée.

Qi Xu didn’t bother joining the crowd. As the Shen Corporation’s vice president, he didn’t need to chase anyone down—people came to him.

Across the room, Xie Yaoting and his wife had just arrived, greeted warmly by the Shen couple and their younger son, Shen Zeyu.

It had been a long time since the two families last met. Qin Huansi, Mrs. Xie, mentioned she’d heard about Zeng Yun’s recent surgery and expressed her concern.

The two ladies walked off together, arms linked. Qin Huansi scanned the room and asked casually, “Where’s your younger son?”

Zeng Yun blinked, then realized she meant Qi Xu. “Xiao Xu’s over there networking—I’ll call him over.”

Following her gaze, Qin Huansi saw Qi Xu with a glass of wine in hand, chatting easily with a group of businessmen. Back when the Shen patriarch was alive, she and her husband occasionally saw the boy during visits—back then, he was a bright, carefree kid who often ended up getting chased around by the old man’s cane.

Those encounters had grown rarer, and after the patriarch’s death, they’d stopped altogether.

Qi Xu must have felt her gaze, because he turned and nodded politely.

She smiled and said to Zeng Yun, “No need—let the young man work.”

Qi Xu might not have cared for the banquet, but he’d already strengthened several connections.

Not long after, Xie Huai arrived—tall and poised in a deep blue suit, calm and self-assured. His presence drew the attention of the entire hall.

Li Kaixing couldn’t help whispering, “Now that’s a proper rich young master. Look at that tie clip, the lapel chain—and that Patek Philippe could buy my soul.”

Qi Xu gave him a sidelong glance, unbothered. He was used to it. Xie Huai had always stood out, even in school. Now, with his family background and the prestige of returning from overseas, he was naturally the center of attention.

Qi Xu had no particular feelings toward him—just another child of privilege, born on top of the pyramid. Always polite, always distant, like his smile was carved in ice.

Li Kaixing hurried to add, “Of course, boss, in our eyes, you’re still the most handsome.”

While they joked, Xie Huai was already surrounded by admirers.

Then Shen Zhuohai called Qi Xu over. Despite being the family’s black sheep, Qi Xu’s name carried more weight in business circles than Shen Zeyu’s—it was something to show off.

Qi Xu didn’t play along. With that faint, unsettling smile of his, he made even the onlookers uneasy. People subtly drifted away.

Shen Zhuohai, keeping up appearances, patted his shoulder affectionately and sent him off, turning back to the guests with a line about how dedicated his son was to his work.

Some people, picking up rumors about Qi Xu and Miss Fang from the Fang family, teased Shen Zhuohai about a potential match.

He only smiled mysteriously and said nothing.

Qi Xu had no idea what was being said behind his back—he’d just turned around and almost ran straight into Xie Huai.

For a second, the gleam of the gem on Xie Huai’s lapel chain caught his eye. He looked at it twice, unthinking—no one knew he had a fondness for shiny things.

Probably just coming over to exchange pleasantries, Qi Xu thought, picking up a glass of wine from a passing tray.

Even before Xie Huai reached him, Qi Xu caught the faint, expensive scent of his cologne. Not a hair out of place. Overdressed for a simple banquet, really.

He forced a polite smile. They were eighteen when they last met—whatever had happened back then, it was ancient history. Everyone learned to wear masks eventually.

“Mr. Xie,” Qi Xu said smoothly, “long time no see. You’ve been well, I hope.”

Standing face to face with the person who’d haunted his dreams for years, Xie Huai’s gaze slowly traveled from Qi Xu’s eyes downward, deliberate and focused, like tracing lines on paper. Every glance was something he’d longed for.

No longer just a frozen image in his memory.

His throat moved before he managed to speak, his tone solemn. “Qi Xu. It’s been a long time.”

The intensity of his gaze made Qi Xu uneasy. What on earth had this man been studying abroad—black magic? He looked ready to devour someone.

Definitely not someone he wanted to linger with. Qi Xu lifted his glass. “Congratulations on the Shen contract, Mr. Xie. I look forward to working with you.”

Xie Huai frowned slightly—he’d noticed earlier that Qi Xu had already had several drinks. With his recent injury, he shouldn’t be drinking at all.

Just as Xie Huai reached to take the glass from him, Shen Zeyu appeared.

“Ah Huai, Aunt Qin told me to make sure you don’t drink too much,” he said cheerfully before turning to Qi Xu. “Second Brother, his stomach’s not great—the doctor warned him off alcohol.”

Of all moments to interrupt, it had to be this one. Qi Xu’s brow tightened, but he didn’t lower his glass.

Before Xie Huai could react, Shen Zeyu had already taken the glass from his hand and set it aside.

“Your mom’s not feeling well,” Shen Zeyu added. “You should go check on her.”

Xie Huai glanced around, realizing he didn’t see his mother anywhere.

He gave Qi Xu an apologetic look. “Sorry, I’ll…”

Before he could finish, Qi Xu had already slipped away. He drained the rest of his wine as he walked, the alcohol burning in his empty stomach.

When he set the glass down, he noticed Xie Huai heading toward the lounge with Shen Zeyu.

Inside, Mrs. Xie was chatting happily with Mrs. Shen. When Xie Huai entered, Mrs. Shen blinked in surprise. “Ah Huai, what brings you here?”

He greeted them both politely, then turned to his mother. “I heard you weren’t feeling well?”

Qin Huansi waved him off. “Just a bit stuffy—too many people. I’ll be fine after resting a while.”

She took his hand, leaned closer, and asked softly, “You saw him?”

He nodded.

She smiled faintly. “Good. Don’t mind me—go back out and mingle. It’s been years; he probably finds you a little unfamiliar now.”

Back then, she hadn’t known about the bet between them—or about his sudden decision to study abroad. She’d been unwell at the time, needing peace and quiet.

It wasn’t until after he graduated that she learned the truth—and about the agreement that had shaped his fate.

No mother could see her child carry such a burden without pain. All these years, he’d been working tirelessly for Luo Zi’s sake.

At least, now, there was hope. Old Master Xie had begun to soften. The only obstacle left was her own father.

By the time the banquet neared its end, Qi Xu had grown restless. The craving for a cigarette hit hard. Reaching into his pocket, he realized he’d forgotten his lighter and turned toward the restroom instead.

He wasn’t tipsy—the years spent in lower positions had trained his tolerance—but the alcohol still left him slightly flushed.

He splashed cold water on his face, cooling the heat from his skin.

Just as he turned off the tap, a clean white handkerchief appeared beside him.

Qi Xu looked up—and met Xie Huai’s gaze in the mirror. Instinctively, he stepped back.

For a second, he could’ve sworn there was hurt in that man’s eyes. Then it vanished. Must’ve been the alcohol.

As composed as ever, Xie Huai stood before him—elegant, distant, and immaculate.

Qi Xu didn’t take the handkerchief. His eyes instead drifted to the sapphire on Xie Huai’s lapel chain, glittering under the fluorescent light. His pupils brightened, just a little.

Had he been sober, he never would’ve looked like that—unguarded, almost boyish. The kind of look that would get eaten alive in his world.

Xie Huai seemed to notice. Slowly, he unfastened the chain from his jacket. Qi Xu’s gaze followed the motion like a cat watching a dangling string.

But Xie Huai didn’t hand it over right away. He took a step closer and asked quietly, “Do you want it?”

Qi Xu tilted his head, sneering faintly. “No. I can buy one myself.”

Even drunk, he refused to show weakness.

Author’s note:
Qi Xu: “I can buy it myself.”