Autumn rain was rare in Ning City. With the humidity dropping to twenty or thirty percent, the weather was so comfortable that one could almost mistake it for some high-latitude region. But this was Ning City after all – separated from Hong Kong and Macau by only a river – and the damp subtropical monsoon climate was its true norm.
Before leaving after getting her hair and makeup done, her assistant reminded her that there was a forty percent chance of rain from afternoon into the evening, warning her to watch out for the temperature drop. Ying Yin heard it, but didn’t take it seriously.
The Alpha nanny van turned past a street corner and picked someone up in front of a styling studio housed in an old Western-style mansion, then immediately sped onto the coastal highway without pause.
“Ying Yin, sorry for making you come all the way here to pick me up,” a female voice said. The voice itself was pleasant enough, but the overly cautious tone made its owner sound somewhat restrained and uneasy.
Ying Yin drew her gaze back from the sea and glanced at Ruan Ye beside her. “It’s fine. The company hasn’t assigned you a car yet anyway, and it wasn’t far out of my way.”
Ruan Ye was a junior newly signed to the company. Her stage name was a little awkward to pronounce, but a fortune-teller had said those two characters would bring her success. She had only just graduated, twenty-two years old, yet had already starred in one or two web dramas and built up a bit of popularity.
It was Ruan Ye’s first time riding in the same car as her. She hadn’t expected Ying Yin to be so easygoing – not putting on any airs at all – and couldn’t help lowering her guard a little.
“When you go to events like this, you don’t even bring assistants or bodyguards with you?”
She had only just started being a celebrity herself, but whenever she went out there were still at least three or four people bustling around her in attendance.
Ying Yin smiled. “Then why didn’t you bring yours?”
Ruan Ye pouted a little. “The organizers wouldn’t allow it.”
“Well, there you go.”
“You can’t pull strings and make yourself an exception either?” Ruan Ye asked, her eyes shining with admiration and hope.
It wasn’t strange for her to ask that.
Ying Yin was the biggest star in their agency. Before even turning twenty-seven, she had already won two Best Actress awards and one Best Supporting Actress award – practically the highest peak a young actress could reach. Yet even she couldn’t bring a single assistant into an event like this.
Ying Yin gave a slight nod. “I can’t either.”
“It’s just some rich person’s banquet…” Ruan Ye muttered. “What’s so great about being rich?”
“Being rich is very impressive,” Ying Yin replied simply. She lifted a brow, and her expression became a touch more animated than before.
Ruan Ye laughed, sounding even more childlike now. “But you’re already rich yourself.”
“As for money…” Ying Yin said lightly, in the tone of casual conversation, “the more of it, the better.”
The coastal highway stretched endlessly into the distance. After a long drive, the scenery ahead finally began to change.
It was a marina.
Even with rain forecasted, there was still no sign of gloom by the sea at four in the afternoon. Wisps of sunlight filtered clearly through the clouds. Hundreds upon hundreds of sailboats and yachts were moored in the harbor; because of the storm warning, all the sails had been neatly furled against their masts.
This was the playground of the rich, and also their harbor. Yet two months ago, it had quietly changed hands. No one knew who the marina’s new owner was.
Reaching the marina also meant they were close to the hotel.
On the mountain across from the harbor, a cluster of white buildings followed the slope of the terrain. Their spotless floor-to-ceiling windows reflected the blue sea, and the magnificent crystal chandeliers inside had already been lit. From afar, the place looked like golden fireworks floating upon the ocean’s surface.
The car swept past along the asphalt road outside the harbor. Ruan Ye pressed herself against the window and looked back, her eyes wide and round.
She had spotted the superyacht docked in the marina – pure white and imposing, so enormous that at a glance she couldn’t even tell how many decks it had.
She wanted to gasp aloud, but Ying Yin beside her seemed not to have noticed it at all, so Ruan Ye obediently swallowed her amazement back down.
At the same time, in front of the windows of the top-floor VIP lounge, the banquet’s host, Chen Youhan, answered a phone call.
The voice on the other end was low and gentlemanly. “It’s going to rain. The airport says there’ll be thunderstorms – I’m afraid the plane won’t be able to take off.”
Chen Youhan laughed and shook his head. “Don’t tell me you’re still in Hong Kong.”
Hong Kong’s Victoria Harbour was crowded with tourists, the waters calm and undisturbed.
From the harbor, the skyscrapers of Central stood shoulder to shoulder, forming one of the world’s most famous skylines. Among them was a tower bearing the logo of the Shangyu Group Center, rising 463 meters high.
Very few people knew that inside the chairman’s office on the top floor hid an ocean-view window. The man speaking on the phone stood before the glass curtain wall, his reflection cast against the deep-blue seawater.
A massive whale shark drifted gracefully past. The water swayed softly, blurring his features so that only fragments of him could be made out: he tilted his head to light a cigarette, and the flame cupped in his hand briefly illuminated his brows and eyes before fading once more into darkness.
“I’m still in Central. Just finished a meeting.” He exhaled a stream of smoke and, out of habit, flicked ash from the slender white cigarette.
“The plane can’t take off, and the yacht’s docked over here. How exactly are you planning to arrive at the banquet on time?” Chen Youhan asked.
The smile in the man’s voice was faint, carrying an unhurried ease. “So it turns out I’m actually expected to be on time.”
After hanging up, the assistant in charge of the banquet’s public relations asked, “Mr. Shang is still at headquarters right now? If he comes over via the Hong Kong-Zhuhai-Macau Bridge, won’t it already be eight o’clock by the time he arrives?”
Chen Youhan wasn’t worried. He knew this man handled things even more flawlessly than he did. Saying he would be late was nothing more than a joke.
Sure enough, a little over half an hour later, the Gulfstream G550 business jet being kept at the airport had already taxied onto the runway, prepared to fly to Ning City through the coming thunderstorm.
In front of the hotel’s revolving doors, the electric doors of the Alpha slid open automatically. A leg in slender high heels emerged from beneath the hem of a black satin gown and landed lightly on the marble floor with a crisp click.
“Miss Ying,” the concierge greeted with a bow.
Ying Yin stepped out of the car, her small evening clutch held neatly before her waist. Only after waiting for the skirt of her gown to settle naturally did she lift her eyes and give a polite nod of her chin. “Good afternoon.”
Ruan Ye got out from the other side. Seeing that her heels were towering, the concierge assigned to receive her quickly offered his arm for support.
Ying Yin waited for her to catch up before smiling slightly. “This is your first banquet, so don’t be nervous. If there’s any problem, come find me anytime.”
Ruan Ye knew that the only reason she had been invited was because of Ying Yin’s status and influence, and because her manager valued her enough to want her to gain experience. She genuinely wanted to make a good impression, but lacking experience – and having ignored her talent coordinator’s advice – she had overdone it in her effort, choosing an enormous, voluminous tulle gown. She practically had to carry the skirt in her arms just to walk, giving her an air of innocent clumsiness.
“Put the skirt down,” Ying Yin reminded her calmly.
For some reason, Ruan Ye suddenly had the strange feeling that from the moment Ying Yin stepped out of the car, the woman had entered a state of complete alertness and composure.
Obediently, Ruan Ye let the skirt fall. Then she saw Ying Yin glance back over her shoulder and give the concierge a small nod and smile. “Sorry to trouble you.”
There was no need for her to say anything more. Three concierges immediately crouched down, arranging the pink tulle train neatly from front to back for Ruan Ye. A PR staff member had already been waiting nearby to guide them, and seeing everything settled, quickly extended a hand in invitation.
“This way, please, ladies.”
The VIP passageway was eerily quiet. A cool, faintly scented mist lingered inside the private elevator, whose walls were entirely silver metal, reflecting the faces and figures of the three of them with polished clarity. Ruan Ye secretly stole a few glances. In the mirrored reflections, Ying Yin looked stunning despite wearing nothing more elaborate than a simple black satin slip gown.
When the elevator reached the floor of the banquet hall, the PR representative explained, “There are still a few guests who haven’t arrived yet. Miss Ying, we’ve prepared a private lounge for you. Would you like me to take you there?”
Ying Yin cast a questioning glance toward Ruan Ye.
Ruan Ye’s status clearly wasn’t high enough for her to have a lounge of her own; she would only be “tagging along.” To spare her embarrassment, Ying Yin had deliberately extended the invitation first.
Ruan Ye parted her lips, about to speak, when another male voice cut in:
“Ying Yin.”
Ying Yin’s back stiffened.
It lasted only for an instant – brief and instinctive. By the next second, she had already adjusted her expression, smiling brightly as she exchanged pleasantries.
“So Mr. Song is here as well.”
Song Shizhang – a legendary investor and producer within the entertainment industry.
Dressed impeccably in a suit, one hand tucked into his trouser pocket, he gave the PR representative a casual wave with the other. “Take this young lady to rest first. I’ll handle things here.”
Once everyone else had left, Song Shizhang extended an arm, inviting Ying Yin to take it.
“How come you dressed so simply today?” he asked, his gaze flicking over her shoulders, collarbones, and neck beneath the pair of delicate straps.
It was basic social etiquette; there was no good reason to refuse. Ying Yin could only smile faintly as she looped her arm through his and replied, “After all, it’s not exactly a red carpet event.”
Song Shizhang let out a low chuckle. “You’re right. That little girl who came with you isn’t nearly as clever as you are.”
“She’s still young.” Ying Yin neither agreed nor disagreed. Though her hand rested on Song Shizhang’s arm, her posture still maintained a polite distance from him.
A waiter pushed open the heavy upholstered doors.
The banquet hall was spacious and brilliantly lit, everything visible at a glance. With one sweep of her eyes, Ying Yin recognized several familiar faces from the entertainment industry. There weren’t many – all attractive male and female celebrities. Presumably, like her, they had been invited here more as decoration than anything else.
Faint whispers rose behind her footsteps.
“So she’s Song Shizhang’s companion again?”
“Mr. Song really does like this type. Looks like persistence pays off.”
“And who exactly is this ‘persistent person’ you’re talking about?” someone laughed behind a hand.
“Song Shizhang’s still in his prime, and he’s not bad-looking either. If he were really willing to give her a title, wouldn’t she turn around and become the boss’s wife overnight?”
Ying Yin heard every word clearly. Her expression never changed, though her finely drawn brows tightened in irritation for the briefest instant before smoothing away again.
“I knew from the start that you’d be coming, so I prepared a gift for you,” Song Shizhang said to Ying Yin, completely ignoring the voices around them.
“Hm?” Ying Yin froze for a second, a bad feeling rising in her chest. “What gift?”
“A couture gown that suits you better. It just finished its debut at Paris Fashion Week. I think you deserve to be the first person in the world to wear it.”
For the first time, the flawless expression on Ying Yin’s face cracked slightly. Her smile stiffened. “Such an expensive gift would be better saved for next month’s film festival…”
“I want you to wear it tonight.” Song Shizhang slowed his speech, calmly repeating himself. “Being my companion should come with this kind of treatment.”
“But the accessories…” Ying Yin desperately searched for an excuse.
Everyone had already seen her enter wearing this outfit. If she suddenly changed – and into the globally anticipated first wear of a spring/summer couture piece – who wouldn’t be able to trace it back to Song Shizhang?
If he wanted to give her a gift, why not send it earlier? Why insist on doing it only after she had already arrived?
He was doing it on purpose.
Bastard.
Ying Yin cursed him silently in her heart, yet when she lifted her face, her eyes looked almost pitiful.
“Changing clothes is such a hassle. My hair will get messed up too… and maybe lipstick will stain the dress…”
“None of that matters.” Song Shizhang cut her off. After a pause, his tone softened slightly. “Do you know who tonight’s guest of honor is?”
“Who is it?”
But Song Shizhang chose to keep her in suspense. He lifted a finger and lightly hovered it near Ying Yin’s lips.
“The gown and jewelry have already been delivered to your lounge,” he said. “I want you wearing the dress I chose, looking more beautiful than anyone else in the room, standing only by my side.”
A torrential downpour arrived.
The heavens did not break its promise. Since it had said it would rain in the evening, it truly began in the evening – only the thick clouds had already blanketed the sky, and the wind and rain came in sudden bursts, turning what should have been a little after six o’clock into something that felt like the middle of the night.
Ying Yin pushed open the revolving door and stepped outside under the watch of the concierge and security staff. She had not changed her clothes; her hair and outfit were still the same as when she arrived.
Standing with her arms relaxed at her sides, she looked out at the gray curtain of rain for a while.
In the distance, sea and sky had merged into a chaotic blur – all traces of the beautiful scenery were gone.
Amid the rumbling echoes, the security guard kept glancing at her, uncertain why this beautiful actress would choose to step outside at a time like this.
And then his eyes suddenly widened as he witnessed a scene he would never forget for the rest of his life.
That slender, delicate figure – dressed in a thin-strapped fishtail gown – walked straight into the rain without any warning at all.
“Miss Ying!” the security guard cried out in alarm.
Ying Yin raised a hand, stopping him from coming any closer. Her voice was almost swallowed by the rain as she said calmly, “It’s fine.”
She had simply felt like standing in the rain for a while. If she could catch a fever and faint on the spot, that would be ideal – but she trained regularly to maintain her figure, so collapsing suddenly would probably be difficult. In that case, she would treat it purely as release. It would be best if her makeup ran, her hair became a mess, and the dress was ruined – enough to make Song Shizhang disgusted with her lack of judgment.
At times, she was just too obedient to what was considered “proper.”
The PR staff who had been receiving guests downstairs had already cleared out, which meant all the guests had arrived. Ying Yin felt relieved; no one would be coming out here anymore.
That made sense as well – who would dare be late to a banquet hosted by Chen Youhan?
Autumn tides had lowered the temperature in Ning City as well. The icy rain instantly soaked through skin and hair, and Ying Yin cursed Song Shizhang in her mouth while stubbornly enduring the fine, involuntary trembling in her body.
She did not notice that beneath the gray sky, a silver-roofed Maybach – longer than an ordinary model – had already circled around the fountain roundabout and was slowly approaching the hotel entrance.
The luxury car glided forward in complete silence. Inside the cabin it was even quieter, soundproofed so thoroughly that even the rain was shut out, leaving only a faint white noise reminiscent of sleep aid. The windshield wipers moved incessantly, scraping away the water patterns across the glass.
As the car entered the portico, that white noise disappeared, signaling to the rear passenger that they had arrived. The man who had been resting with his eyes closed seemed to sense it and opened them at that moment.
A glance swept past his peripheral vision, and a voice immediately sounded, “Stop.”
The car came to an obedient halt. The driver, already graying at the temples, turned his head slightly and asked, “What is it?”
The man in the back cast a brief sideways glance outside for two seconds before withdrawing his gaze. His expression remained undisturbed. Returning to his usual half-lidded, indifferent look, he gave a simple instruction, “Go get her an umbrella.”
The driver glanced toward the figure outside and promptly obeyed.
He got out of the car, took a long-handled black umbrella from the trunk, and was about to walk over when the rear window slid down halfway. A hand extended slowly, offering a thin cashmere blanket.
The hand was long-fingered and well-proportioned, the knuckles elegant, the deep red wool making it look like a folded jade fan bone turned upside down.
The voice from inside the car remained steady, carrying not a trace of extra emotion.
“Be careful not to catch a cold.”
Only when someone approached holding an umbrella did Ying Yin realize that her loss of composure had been fully witnessed. By then, it was already too late to hide.
The person came closer. Beneath the umbrella was a face with graying temples, probably around sixty years old.
Ying Yin quietly let out a breath of relief.
At that age, he likely wouldn’t recognize her. Besides, she was now drenched head to toe; she probably looked more terrifying than a ghost.
The man opened another long umbrella he was carrying and handed it to her.
The handle was black walnut, its surface glowing with a warm luster, carrying an elegance and solemnity that seemed almost mismatched with something as ordinary as an umbrella.
Ying Yin instinctively took it, still a little dazed. In the next second, something soft and warm was placed into her hands again – a cashmere blanket.
“Autumn rain is cold,” he said.
“Thank you,” Ying Yin replied without asking further.
Amid the dense humidity of subtropical rain, she caught a faint scent at the tip of her nose. It could hardly be called perfume; it was difficult to define – neither floral, fruity, nor woody. If she had to describe it, it was a sense of “cleanliness.”
A cold-toned purity, crisp and clear, like the morning air of a high-latitude region.
“That was the guest’s instruction,” the man said, turning slightly with a faint smile. “He asked me to tell you: if you want to listen to the rain, there’s no need to get yourself wet.”
If you want to listen to the rain, there’s no need to get yourself wet.
Something stirred in Ying Yin’s mind, like banana leaves struck by rain, producing a resonant echo.
Following his words and gaze, she wiped her wet eyelashes and looked toward the car in the distance.
The edge of the black umbrella lifted slightly, and she saw the man in the back seat.
Even seated, his figure was unmistakably superior, his jawline sharply defined and his nose bridge high.
Ying Yin’s gaze carried polite gratitude. She intended to resolve this gesture of kindness cleanly the moment their eyes met.
But from the beginning to the end, the man inside the car remained seated with one leg crossed, his body leaning back against the seat in a posture that was both relaxed and upright. His eyes were half-closed, his brows faintly furrowed, offering her only a silent, slightly impatient profile.
She stood in the rain; he remained in the car. One was drenched head to toe, the other immaculate and untouched by dust.
The dim, rain-shrouded light made his side profile indistinct, yet it carried an innate sense of nobility that made him feel distant and unreachable.
Indeed, he did not even need to step out himself to help – only sending his personal assistant in his place.
At first glance, Ying Yin did not connect him with the evening’s guest of honor, the young master of the Shangyu Group whom everyone was eagerly waiting to fawn over.
After all, rumors described Shang Shao as having rather ordinary looks. Yet the man in the car, even just from his profile and aura alone, was already unforgettable.
