A birthday gift at twenty – its dreamlike nature went without saying.
Ying Yin calculated silently. “That’s sixteen years now – wouldn’t it have aged?”
She asked very pragmatically, and Shang Shao laughed. “The shipbuilding technology for ocean-going sail yachts advances quickly, so although it’s been meticulously maintained and looks very new, from a technical standpoint, it’s already outdated.”
“Tell me more.” Ying Yin was no longer feeling very sleepy.
“It’s two o’clock, miss. If I finish telling you now, it won’t come true tomorrow anyway.” Shang Shao kissed her nose. “How about a shower and then bed?”
“Just one more bit,” Ying Yin insisted stubbornly. “Just a short part. Why this dream?”
“Because I like conquest.”
He said it so naturally, so casually, making no effort to conceal those two ambition-filled words. And yet his features were so gentle, so refined, his manner perfectly composed – even his eyes were as calm as a deep pool, giving no hint that they were filled with ambition within.
“Of all the forces of nature, the ocean is the most furious and the most treacherous. It is capricious, full of variables, and the line between life and death can shift in an instant. To date, only eighty people in the entire world have completed a solo, non-stop circumnavigation of the globe.” Shang Shao’s tone was matter-of-fact.
“Eighty people?” Ying Yin was stunned, murmuring. “Eighty people – that’s even harder than winning a Best Actress Oscar.”
But even the Best Actress Oscar is fraught with invisible barriers – nationality, race, skin color – filled with the scheming and extravagance of awards season, the manipulation and orchestration of Hollywood and media conglomerates. No matter how difficult it is, there is still room for human intervention. But solo circumnavigation by sailboat relies on nothing but absolute luck and sheer ability. And that absoluteness is a kind of ruthless fairness.
“No, that’s not it.” Ying Yin suddenly spoke, fixing her gaze on him. “It’s that you love the sea. First you love the sea, and only then do you want to conquer it.”
Just as actors must first love performing before they can aspire to conquer the top-level awards of various film festivals.
Shang Shao was taken aback, then narrowed his eyes slightly, meeting Ying Yin’s gaze.
His eyes were filled with complex scrutiny and assessment – dangerous, and yet somehow puzzled.
Two seconds later, he lifted the corner of his mouth in a soft snort of laughter, and suddenly relaxed. “You’ve seen right through me.”
This feeling of being “seen through” was unfamiliar, yet pleasing, and Shang Shao unconsciously pressed Ying Yin down against the side of his neck.
He rested his neck against hers, closing his eyes, breathing deeply as he rubbed his cheek against her temple. Deep in his heart, a tremor ran through him, again and again.
He had grown used to a life where no one saw through him.
Not his birth parents, not Lin Cunkang who had been by his side for thirty-six years, not Ming Bao with her sharp intuition, not Mingxian who shared his vision in business, not even Shang Lu with whom he had shared profound confidences – no one had ever been able to see through him.
He always spoke only half of what he meant, only the underlying logic or the most surface-level phenomena. To truly understand his words and grasp his innermost intentions, one had to work through layer upon layer of inference. And what he genuinely liked or disliked was all carefully concealed beneath his air of casual indifference.
“Baby.” He pressed his lips to her neck, warm as fine jade.
For the first time, as if surrendering to fate, he laid bare the truth from the depths of his heart.
“I love the sea because it possesses absolute fairness. When you face its storms and swells, you can feel your own insignificance. And that insignificance – it brings me peace.”
After her shower, Ying Yin still pestered him with questions without end.
The newly bought silk nightgown felt comfortable, fresh from being washed and dried. His bed was soft as clouds, the high-thread-count cotton smooth and flawless, carrying a refreshing coolness. And Shang Shao’s body was so hot that she couldn’t help pressing close to him.
“Where can I learn to sail?” She curled up in his arms, using his shoulder as a pillow.
“They taught it in high school.”
“And the sailboat itself – is it very expensive?” Ying Yin asked with her eyes closed.
She was clearly very sleepy, unable to keep her eyes open, yet she stubbornly kept the conversation going.
Chatting on and off, in fits and starts.
“Not expensive.”
Compared to her, Shang Shao’s voice was steady, carrying that deep-night languor. “An entry-level single-handed recreational keelboat costs about three to four hundred thousand. A better-equipped one runs around eight to nine hundred thousand. If you’re talking about a boat for non-stop circumnavigation, the cost goes up – can reach seventy to eighty million, around a hundred million.”
“A hundred million again?” Ying Yin mumbled.
Shang Shao let out a soft, tender laugh. “Then let’s change the unit – six or seven million euros? That refers to the boat’s configuration, plus some other equipment and personnel costs.”
Ying Yin fell asleep, her breathing evening out for two seconds, then suddenly startled awake, rallying her energy to ask, “So your little sailboat – has it just been sitting at that harbor all this time?”
Little sailboat.
Quite endearing, actually.
“Before I graduated and came back to China, I used it to complete a non-stop circumnavigation of the Mediterranean. After that, it’s been there ever since. If I happen to pass by on business trips, I go see it, but I haven’t taken it out to sea again.” Shang Shao kissed the top of her head. “How about we stop here for tonight? Save some for tomorrow, alright?”
Ying Yin nestled in his arms, hugging his waist, her speech already slurred. “Isn’t circumnavigating the Mediterranean impressive?”
“Not really – it’s entry-level. A lot of my friends have done it.”
“I don’t believe you.” She held an inexplicable admiration and reverence for him.
Shang Shao brushed the stray hair from her face and gently squeezed her earlobe. “Alright, I am a bit better than them – because I did it solo and non-stop, and I also hold the fastest record among them.”
Her thoughts and senses seemed to drift and bob on the winds and waves of the Mediterranean – but those winds and waves were so gentle, cradling Ying Yin, rocking her, lulling her into a drowsy haze, half-asleep and half-awake.
She seemed reluctant to fall asleep, as if she wanted to talk with him until every word was said, until dawn broke.
How quiet the night was in Deep Water Bay. Hong Kong Island lay sleeping beneath their feet, the deep blue canopy dotted with starry lights.
“Mr. Shang.”
“Hm?”
“Brother Ah-Shao.”
The only answer was his soft laugh.
“Shang Shao…”
Almost a sleep-talk murmur.
“Go to sleep.”
His kiss pressed upon her forehead.
Ying Yin slept until the sun was high the next day.
Sea breezes poured in through the wide viewing terrace, bringing with them a distant rushing sound – whether it was rolling waves or wind rustling through the treetops, she couldn’t tell.
She was the only one left in the bed, and for a moment she felt a flutter of panic. What if someone came in?
Would they mistake her for a thief? Or would she have to pretend she was a housekeeper who’d come for an interview again? This time, there would be no Uncle Kang to help cover for her.
Shang Shao was having a brunch with Wen Youyi.
There was no way he could keep his return home from Wen Youyi – it was better to go pay his respects proactively than to wait for her to come find him.
The weather was lovely today, with warm sunshine and gentle breezes. Wen Youyi had the servants set up the meal in a small garden she had taken a liking to recently. She was usually busy as well – too many afternoon teas and charity galas to attend, her own philanthropic foundation to manage, and above all, the five children’s major life events to worry about, along with their well-being through all four seasons and every meal of the day.
Shang Shao chatted with her about his life and work in Ning City, picking only the interesting and smooth-sailing parts so she wouldn’t have extra cause for concern.
After they’d talked enough, he asked, quite casually, “When is Dad coming back?”
Shang Qingye had been working out of the Singapore headquarters lately – Shang Shao knew that well enough. But his schedule was full of changes, and only Wen Youyi knew the details for certain.
“Tonight,” Wen Youyi replied, seeing right through him in one glance. “Are you trying to avoid him again?”
“We’ll just end up arguing if we meet. No point in making you worry over it.” Shang Shao smiled, took a sip of his coffee, and glanced at his watch.
At ten o’clock, Ying Yin should be getting up soon. He picked up his phone and typed out a message, telling her where to find the servants to arrange for breakfast. Last night, after Lin Cunkang learned they were staying in Deep Water Bay, he had arranged for an elderly staff member to come over overnight, and had also brought along the clothes and documents Ying Yin had left on the Maybach.
“You just can’t get past that hurdle.” Wen Youyi lowered her gaze, pouring the tea. “As it turns out, he wasn’t wrong at all.”
She paused. “Of course, you weren’t wrong either. The mistake was loving the wrong person.”
“That’s long behind me.” Shang Shao said lightly. “He’s going through his midlife crisis -his temper’s getting worse by the day. Only when he changes will there be any room for communication.”
Wen Youyi pursed her lips. “You certainly know how to get under people’s skin now -going completely opposite to Lulu. These days, he’s the one who puts my mind at ease more than you do.”
“Is Lulu doing well up in the mountains?” Shang Shao asked naturally.
“Says he’s coming down soon.”
“The only reason Lulu puts your mind at ease is because his major life decisions are settled.”
Shang Shao had never brought up this topic of his own accord before. Wen Youyi was rather surprised. She set down the teapot, shot him a glance, and said with deliberate neutrality. “So you do know.”
“You just said I loved the wrong person – then for someone in my position, what exactly would be the right kind?”
Wen Youyi was even more taken aback. Her eldest son’s tone was not at all aggressive -gentle and unhurried – so she couldn’t quite tell whether he was once again fighting for Yu Shasha’s position.
“That Shasha…”
“I’m not talking about her. She really isn’t suitable.” Shang Shao cut her off. “What I mean is, if Lulu were in my position – the eldest son and heir – would you still allow him to be with Ke Yu?”
His wording was tactful enough, but Wen Youyi’s mind went elsewhere for a moment, and her expression shifted. “Leo… are you also into men now?”
Shang Shao choked on his coffee.
Wen Youyi shot him a reproachful glare. “You think I haven’t heard enough of that talk? I wake up in the middle of the night in a panic, afraid that one day you’ll bring a man home too.”
Shang Shao unfolded his napkin and wiped his mouth, his gaze lowered and his expression indifferent. “The reason my marriage is so hard to settle is that you have your requirements – men won’t do, celebrities won’t do, plain-looking won’t do, mismatched backgrounds won’t do, insufficient education won’t do. You search around, and it’s always just some heiress from this family or that family.”
“How could that be?” Wen Youyi denied it.
Shang Shao’s lips curled into a faintly mocking smile, but his gaze was direct. “If one day I brought a celebrity home too, would you agree?”
Wen Youyi parted her lips. She wasn’t sure if it was her imagination, but at that moment, he had almost pressed her so hard that her heart tightened and her palms grew sweaty.
But she held her ground and answered conservatively. “A celebrity – it depends on what kind. Someone like Xiao Dao – clean and aboveboard, of upright character, broad-minded, resilient, and good-looking – why wouldn’t that be acceptable? The fear is that celebrities in the entertainment industry are used to a freewheeling, decadent lifestyle, and… lacking in moral self-discipline in certain respects – that, of course, wouldn’t do for you.”
She looked at him gently. “Ah-Shao, you are the future head of the family. Your wife will have to do what I do now – every word, every action, her character and bearing, all of it will be scrutinized under a magnifying glass. If you marry a female celebrity with a tarnished reputation and spendthrift habits, you know how much that would damage the Shang family’s public image. And if the family’s image doesn’t matter, then why don’t you go play with models, keep singers, flaunt your wealth, hit up nightclubs, and keep three or four mistresses? How many of the people you grew up with haven’t done exactly that?”
For the sake of the Shang family’s image, even the operations of the entertainment venues and gambling clubs had to be rebranded as “Qili” to distinguish them from the Shangyu Group.
Shang Shao nodded. “Upright character, clean and aboveboard, intelligent and perceptive, resilient personality, good-looking – is that right?”
He stood up, grabbing his phone. “Got it.”
“Got it? Got what?” Wen Youyi was baffled, and grew alert. “Ah-Shao, you’re fishing for my words.”
Shang Shao curved his lips slightly. “No, wouldn’t dare.”
He pushed back his chair, gave his mother a slight nod. “Don’t overthink it. I have things to do – I’ll take my leave now.”
Ying Yin had just finished breakfast and gone back to bed for a nap.
She’d pushed herself too hard last night, with her emotions running high, and was inherently lazy by nature. By the time Shang Shao scooped her into his arms, she had already dozed off for a while.
“You’re back?”
Seeing her dazed and sleepy look, Shang Shao almost wanted to laugh. Anyone would think they’d been up all night doing something else.
“So sleepy?” He sucked gently on her lips.
Morning energy ran high – his gaze darkened, his lips lingering by her ear, his voice low, half commanding and half coaxing. “Give me your tongue.”
Ying Yin pressed her soft fullness into his palm and obediently parted her teeth. After being deeply kissed for half a minute, she perked up as well, her long legs crossing and rubbing against him gently.
Shang Shao caressed her, playing absently. “How many more days?”
“Two or three.” Ying Yin opened her eyes, glossy and dazed, pouting slightly, the flush on her cheeks spreading all the way to the corners of her eyes as she shot him a glare.
Shang Shao let out a laugh, knowing full well but asking anyway. “What’s that for?”
“You know it’s not allowed…” Ying Yin didn’t finish, pressed tightly into Shang Shao’s embrace.
His Adam’s apple bobbed heavily, his breath growing hot – both the instigator and the victim of his own doing, he let out a half-laughing sigh. “Who exactly sent you to test me like this?”
She slept in until the afternoon. Upon hearing from the servants that Wen Youyi had gone out for afternoon tea, she felt at ease and let Shang Shao take her around for a tour.
Introducing Ying Yin to his parents was something that required careful planning. He was both afraid of scaring her off and worried that complications might arise during this critical phase when their relationship was just heating up, so he proceeded with extreme caution, step by step. But that streak of rebellion would always surface from time to time, leading him to do something childish like sneaking her back home.
The Shang residence occupied an entire mountain, with scenic views at every turn and winding paths leading to secluded spots. Amidst the dense, manicured woods stood a clubhouse, used exclusively for banquets and family gatherings. The clubhouse faced a lake, at the center of which was a small island housing hundreds of flamingos. This was a gift from Shang Qingye to Wen Youyi, as flamingos are birds of lifelong fidelity, mating only once in their lives.
No one expected that after feeding the birds for a while, when they turned around, the figure of Shang Qingye would appear under the pavilion – the very spot most beloved for sheltering from rain and sitting in quiet contemplation.
Both father and son wore expressionless faces. Only Ying Yin was startled.
She was being led by the hand by Shang Shao.
She wasn’t wearing makeup, looking exactly the same as she had that day at the seaside estate.
Her face turned pale, her eyes filled with terror, and she kept swallowing nervously. Her first instinct was to pull her hand out of Shang Shao’s palm.
But Shang Shao didn’t budge, not loosening his grip in the slightest.
Shang Qingye narrowed his eyes for a long moment, his gaze shifting from their joined hands to Shang Shao’s eyes, then glancing over at Ying Yin.
He remembered all too vividly the image of her driving that little toy car down the mountain last time.
For a moment, Shang Qingye’s feelings were complicated.
His eldest son – always proper, self-possessed, and meticulously raised – had gotten involved with a beautiful housekeeper.
He stared coldly at Shang Shao, and finally, word by word, said slowly, “You. Are quite something.”
