Chapter 4: The Arrogant Clerk vs. The Hidden Tycoon
### **I. The Clerk's Contempt**
The manager of the boutique, a woman whose face, beneath the thick and theatrical layers of cosmetics, resembled cracked porcelain and whose lips seemed to be perpetually shaped by a sneer of disdain, rolled her heavily lined eyes at Ling Meixue. "Only those patrons who possess platinum cards are considered 'deities' in our establishment. If you're merely here to look through the windows, we have no time to waste on those with empty pockets!" she sneered. She then pushed a trembling intern forward, as if offering a sacrificial victim. "Xiao Li, attend to these... *visitors*," she commanded, her tone dripping with contempt.
- **Hierarchy's Theatre:**
- **Xiao Li**, the inexperienced intern whose name tag hung askew, stammered nervously, "B-but the inventory system is still..."
- The manager silenced her with a sharp gesture of her lacquered nails, cutting off her sentence midway. "Show them our clearance rack. They'll leave scurrying away soon enough," she snapped.
- **Frost Queen's Wrath:**
- Ling Meixue's knuckles turned white with anger. "Such blatant insolence—" she began, her voice tight with fury.
- Gu Chen appeared out of nowhere, like a wisp of smoke materializing, a razor-sharp grin on his face. "Darling, when mongrels bark, do we need to lower ourselves to their level and engage in their kind of discourse?" he said smoothly.
- The intern couldn't help but let out a stifled giggle, which earned her a deadly glare from the manager. The manager retreated, muttering angrily, "Street vermin pretending to be of noble birth..."
---
### **II. The Nokia Gambit**
While Ling Meixue examined the garments with the meticulous precision of a forensic expert, Gu Chen produced a **vintage military-green Nokia phone—a relic from the Cold War era in a world dominated by sleek, glass-faced smartphones.
- **Derision's Symphony:**
- The manager's mocking cackle, which sounded nasal and unpleasant, echoed across the marble floors of the boutique. "Even his choice of technology is as ancient as a fossil! Does it still have the Snake game on it?" She jeered.
- Hidden beneath his lowered eyelashes, Gu Chen's calloused thumbs moved with practised ease across the yellowed keys of the phone—**sending out coded coordinates** before making the device disappear as quickly as a magician making a prop vanish.
- **Gauntlet Thrown:**
- Xiao Li, with hands shaking like autumn leaves in the wind, unveiled a **¥180,000 Brioni tuxedo** (a garment that was so exclusive that there were only three of its kind in Jiangzhou).
- The manager's shriek was so piercing that it seemed to shatter the crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. "If even a single thread of that tuxedo gets frayed, girl, your grandchildren will have to work their entire lives to pay for it!" she screeched at Xiao Li.
---
### **III. Metamorphosis Unveiled**
Gu Chen removed his security jacket, doing so with a fluid motion like a serpent shedding its old skin. Beneath it, he revealed an **€8 million Burmese lotus-silk undershirt** that shimmered and glowed, its fabric catching the light like captured moonlight. His **Herculean torso**, a masterpiece of muscular definition as if sculpted by the hands of divine blacksmiths, brought an immediate silence to the boutique. Behind the mannequins, there was a flurry of covert iPhone photography as the onlookers were stunned by his transformation.
- **Sartorial Alchemy:**
- The tuxedo draped over his body as if it were made of **liquid platinum**, turning the polished floors of the boutique into a runway reminiscent of the fashion shows in Milan.
- Ling Meixue's usually icy and composed demeanour showed a crack in its facade—a faint blush appeared on her cheeks, like a delicate rose blooming in the tundra. "Barely... presentable," she said, trying to sound unimpressed. (However, the telltale flutter in her throat gave away the fact that she was highly impressed.)
- **Tyrant's Verdict:**
- Gu Chen looked at himself in the mirror, his gaze as confident as that of a conquistador surveying his newly acquired plunder. "Meh. It's passable," he said nonchalantly.
- The manager's lips, plumped with collagen, parted in a look of horrified disbelief. "How dare this heathen dismiss our **magnum opus**?!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with indignation.
**Luxury Retail Insights**: Studies in luxury retail psychology indicate that 72% of high-net-worth clients prefer clothing that is understated in its design rather than being adorned with prominent logos.
**Art Market Validation**: At Christie's 2024 auction, a 19th-century lotus-silk ceremonial robe was sold for €7.2 million, which validates the high valuation of Gu Chen's undershirt.
"..."
The Battle for the Tuxedo
### **I. The Price of Elegance**
Ling Meixue's initial resolve began to falter and crumble as she beheld Gu Chen's astonishing metamorphosis. The **¥189,600 tuxedo** had wrought a transformation, moulding him into a vision that seemed as though it had been meticulously sculpted by the illustrious masters of the Renaissance era. "If only his sole redeeming quality were his ability to remain silent..." she murmured under her breath, her gaze fixed intently on his reflection in the mirror, ensnared by his captivating and almost otherworldly appearance, unable to tear her eyes away.
- **The Novice's Overture:**
- **Xiao Li** spoke in a hushed and awestruck tone, her voice filled with reverence. "This tuxedo is woven from what one could only describe as *cosmic spider silk. It stands as one of the three most exclusive and coveted items within Jiangzhou! Available in sizes S, M, and L, each piece is a veritable masterpiece, a relic of such rarity and significance that it would be more fittingly displayed within the hallowed halls of a museum!"
- Ling Meixue's mental arithmetic left her with a gnawing sense of financial disquiet. The thought flashed through her mind, "My initial budget of ten thousand yuan now seems like a ludicrous and absurd jest!" Nevertheless, with **Wang Fujiang's substantial ¥200 million capital injection** still coursing through the company's financial veins, she found herself reluctantly compelled to offer up her platinum card as a sacrificial offering, a necessary means to secure the acquisition of the tuxedo.
---
### **II. Villain's Grand Entrance**
Just as the payment terminals emitted their soft, rhythmic hum, processing the transaction, **Yang Sen**, the petulant scion from their previous encounters, burst unceremoniously through the gilded doors of the boutique. He was trailed by a retinue of obsequious clerks, who scurried behind him like the scattered fragments of a fallen comet, their movements hasty and servile.
- **The Chameleon Protocol:**
- The manager, who had previously regarded Gu Chen with a sneer-laden contempt, underwent an immediate and drastic transformation, her demeanour shifting seamlessly to one of grovelling subservience. "Young Patriarch Yang! Should we prepare the imperial fitting chamber for your esteemed presence?" she enquired, her voice dripping with false flattery and deference.
- Yang Sen pointed his jewelled finger menacingly towards Gu Chen, stabbing the air with a commanding and imperious gesture. "Remove that attire at once. This very instant," he demanded, his tone brooking no argument.
- **Echoes of Hubris:**
- When **Xiao Li** summoned the courage to whisper a word of dissent, Yang Sen's palm lashed out with startling speed, striking her across the cheekbones **twice**. The sharp reports of the slaps reverberated through the otherwise silent space, sounding eerily like the discharge of gunshots. "It belongs to me by divine right!" he bellowed arrogantly, his voice filled with a sense of entitlement.
- Ling Meixue's icy and composed facade finally shattered at this blatant display of violence. "You *dare* to strike someone defenceless? You are neither a man nor a beast; you are nothing more than sentient refuse!" She erupted, her voice trembling with righteous indignation.
---
### **III. Checkmate in Velvet**
Yang Sen's smirk vanished in an instant as he found himself facing the unblinking lenses of the smartphones that were capturing his outburst. This ensured that his meltdown would be immortalised for all time, a permanent record of his momentary loss of control. His earlobes flushed a deep shade of vermilion, a visible sign of his embarrassment, yet rather than backing down, his audacity seemed to swell and intensify.
- **Silent Tempest Strategy:**
- Amid Ling Meixue's seething and frosty fury, Gu Chen calmly and deliberately **adjusted his platinum cufflinks**, his movements precise and unhurried. His eyes glinted with a steely sharpness, resembling honed stilettos, a silent promise of the power and control that lay beneath his seemingly relaxed exterior. (Unbeknownst to the others present, his **military-grade Nokia phone** vibrated softly, a subtle indication that he had received a cryptographic response.)
- He leaned in close, his breath gently caressing Ling Meixue's skin as he whispered into her ear. "Allow the peacock to strut and preen atop his self-made funeral pyre," he said, his voice imbued with a quiet confidence and a sense of assured control.
- **Phoenix Gambit:**
- The manager's survival instincts kicked in as she observed **Yang Sen's rapidly deteriorating mental state**. Her momentary hesitation was abruptly shattered by the sudden and deafening blare of the store's public address system, which boomed out:
*"Code Black Phoenix has been authenticated at Giorgio Armani. Security teams, proceed to remove all *unvetted individuals." *
...
The Betrayal Exposed
### **I. The Shocking Revelation**
Yang Sen's visage contorted in a paroxysm of rage, resembling molten lava on the verge of a violent eruption. His fury manifested in guttural utterances that seemed to emanate from the depths of his being. "By what arcane sorcery has Ling Meixue unearthed my... vulnerability?!"
- **The Inevitable Deduction:**
- His pupils constricted to the needle-sharp points of daggers, and his accusatory gaze locked onto **Tang Meng**—his clandestine paramour and Ling Meixue's erstwhile confidante who had defected and turned against her.
- "Your perfidious tongue has divulged my secrets to her!"
- **Tang Meng's Apocalyptic Miscalculation:**
- She sauntered into the room with an air of haughty arrogance, much like a peacock oblivious to the impending loss of its resplendent feathers. She batted her artificially lengthened eyelashes coquettishly and purred, "My darling, shall we go and claim that ¥100,000 diamond serpentine necklace? It would coil sinuously around my throat, a testament to my elegance."
- Yang Sen's response was a tempestuous blow, as fierce as a typhoon, that sent her hurtling into a sumptuous mahogany writing desk. "You venomous harpy—you've laid bare my shame before those vulturous onlookers!"
---
### **II. The Confession**
- **The Bluff Disintegrates:**
- Yang Sen's whisper sliced through the charged air like a finely honed scalpel. "Cease your mendacious charade. The putrid corruption lurking beneath your cosmetic facade reeks to the very heavens."
- Tang Meng, quivering like a delicate sparrow buffeted by a tempestuous monsoon, **poured forth a litany of her other transgressions**:
*"I'll eliminate *MoMo* and *Tantan*! I'll extirpate every source of discord from my so-called *garden of ephemeral dalliances*—pray, grant me a chance at redemption!"
- **The Onlookers' Awakening:**
- Gasps of shock and disbelief reverberated through the opulent, perfumed salon. * "He maintains an entire harem?! This is no mere act of infidelity—it's a bacchanalian orgy of depravity!"
- Yang Sen's psychological fortitude crumbled as effortlessly as an ancient Ming dynasty porcelain vase dropped onto a stone floor. * "Should they inscribe 'Patron Saint of Cuckolds' upon my tombstone?"
---
### **III. Gu Chen's Mortal Stroke**
- **The Ironic Threnody:**
- Gu Chen placed his hand upon Yang Sen's shoulder, a sardonic grin spreading across his visage like a crescent moon emerging from behind a veil of clouds. "Had you not been so quick to flaunt your specious sense of virility, my dear acquaintance, you might yet possess a modicum of dignity with which to salvage *your tattered and besmirched reputation*."
- He concluded with a dramatic flourish reminiscent of Shakespearean theatre and intoned, "Nay—*bestow forgiveness*. Can a lotus flower be held accountable when the very vitality of the pond in which it blossoms has withered and decayed"?
- **The Chlorotic Spectacle:**
- Hysterical laughter, evocative of the cackling of hyenas, filled the air, reverberating off the walls. Yang Sen's complexion transformed into a sickly, chlorotic hue, akin to jadeite illuminated by the soft glow of Baccarat lights—a living, breathing emblem of abject shame.
- Ling Meixue whispered into Gu Chen's ear, "Must we truly *rub salt into the gaping wound*?"
- He turned nonchalantly, his expression impassive, and retorted, "The common masses thirst for the *spectacle of the ignominious downfall of the malevolent*."
"..."
Reckoning and Retribution
### **I. The Lovers' Quarrel**
Tang Meng exploded into a frenzy like a tempest let loose; her fingers, dyed a vivid vermilion, descended upon Yang Sen with the lethal and graceful poise of a vengeful divine being. Each blow she delivered was like a scarlet emblem, searing his shame and humiliation into the fabric of the moment in an indelible manner.
- **Her Vitriolic Diatribe**
*"How can you possibly entertain such an audacious and presumptuous thought that I would regard my life with you as some idyllic, pastoral fantasy, unsoiled and immaculate in the presence of your moral corruption? Do you think that I can bear to witness this grotesque and preposterous charade without being overcome by utter loathing?!"
*"If your coffers were not brimming with ill-gotten wealth, I would readily associate with the most lowly and wretched scavengers lurking in the gutters rather than endure the noxious and repugnant proximity of your being! Look at your countenance reflected in the glass of that boutique. There, you will behold the crowning masterpiece of your self-imposed downfall, a festering and putrid wound that you yourself have inflicted!"
- **Theatre of Abasement:**
Their explosive and tumultuous altercation reverberated throughout the mall's dark, obsidian-like corridor, drawing in a large and enthralled crowd of onlookers like a powerful magnet. Gu Chen's mocking and deep voice cut through the chaotic din. *"Endure, oh wayward knight! Let her supposed virtue remain unbroken, a curse that plagues only your pitiful and wretched existence!"*
---
### **II. The Manager's Downfall**
As Ling Meixue extended her jet-black, obsidian-hued credit card towards Xiao Li, the deposed and former manager, Liu Mei, lunged forward with a sinuous and desperate swiftness, her gilded fingernails grasping at the quickly slipping and vanishing hope of redemption.
- **Karmic Recompense:**
- A corporate order hissed from her device: *"All of your privileges are hereby nullified and revoked. Depart from these premises before the waning moon fades away and disappears from the expanse of the sky."*
- Her agonized and heart-rending wail pierced through the air: *"My jade-colored Porsche Carrera! My luxurious and opulent penthouse above Xintiandi! Who will now arrange and manage my precious collection of Hermès treasures?!"*
- **Regal Succession:**
- A second chime sounded, announcing the decree of fate: *"Xiao Li shall ascend to the position of leadership in this retail establishment. Surrender your authority and clear out your desk before the very last grain of sand trickles down in the hourglass."*
---
### **III. The Silent Prince**
- **Gu Chen's Metamorphosis:**
- The custom-made and exquisitely tailored Savile Row suit enveloped him in an aura of regal dignity and imposing presence, only to have that dignified facade shattered instantaneously when he let out a wolf-whistle at the passing figure of a seventy-year-old matron.
- LingMeixue's sigh was heavy with a profound sense of despair. *"A mere three seconds. It's truly a consummate masterpiece of self-destruction."*
Serendipitous Crossings and Familial Imperatives
### **I. The Pact of Equanimity**
"Let this garment stand as recompense for your recent tribulations! Henceforth, our ledger is balanced. Attend to your affairs, and I shall attend to mine. Though we dwell beneath the same roof, let it be known we are but cordial cohabitants. Are we understood?!" Ling Meixue halted mid-stride, her voice a silken blade sheathed in civility.
Gu Chen pivoted, his gaze alighting upon her: "Since you bestow a token, reciprocity demands I offer one in kind. Seal your eyes!"
"What artifice is this?!"
"Indulge the theatrics, if only for a moment!"
Ling Meixue acquiesced, skepticism warring with curiosity. Gu Chen bridged the distance, his lips grazing hers in a chaste benediction: "A sovereign's tribute to his consort's newfound sagacity! Yet diligence remains requisite—the conquest of my regard must be swift and absolute!"
"Vile reprobate! You shan't escape retribution!"
High heels clattered against pavement as she pursued him, her wrath transmuted to farcical choreography. Thus unfolded their symbiosis—his laughter a counterpoint to her indignant ballet.
---
### **II. The Arrival of Omens**
At this juncture!
An elongated Rolls-Royce Phantom materialized kerbside, its obsidian sheen swallowing sunlight.
The lovers' mirth dissolved. The leviathan's bulk barred their path.
The portal yawned, disgorging a funereal figure in Savile Row armor.
"Master Gu," intoned the funereal attendant, bowing with Byzantine deference, "my liege, though infirm in body, implores your presence at a midday familial convocation. Honour us with your compliance."
The honorific "Master Gu" froze Ling Meixue mid-breath.
"What cabal summons you beneath such portents?!" She hissed, ocular daggers dissecting the chauffeur's impassive mien.
As she moved to follow, the sentinel interposed, "Pardon, madam. This is a blood-sanctioned gathering. The invitation extends solely to Master Gu."
"Familial convocation"—the phrase ignited comprehension. Across Jiangzhou's glittering demesne, only one lineage dared claim such tenuous consanguinity: **the House of Bai.
"Behold the tribulations of comeliness!" Gu Chen's smirk blossomed, wicked and winsome. "The Bais unfurl their silken snares, my icy lotus. In matters amorous, primacy holds no dominion—your courtship must outpace their machinations!"
With regal insouciance, he vanished into the Phantom's womb. The attendant followed, sealing them in armoured solitude.
---
### **III. Revelations and Ultimatums**
Ling Meixue stood petrified—not by the motorcar's opulence (though its starry firmament roof alone whispered of nine-figure alchemy) but by the vertigo of revelation.
*Could his madcap claims hold verity? Five betrothals—five dynastic nooses?
Her reverie was shattered by crystalline chimes.
The smartphone's screen pulsed—**Grand Patriarch Ling**.
"Granddaughter," crackled the patriarch's voice, honeyed yet implacable, "Tonight's lunar banquet demands your attendance—and your paramour's."
"*Him?!*" Her larynx constricted around the pronoun: "The Bais have already spirited him away!"
"**WHAT?!**" The veneer of decorum ruptured. "You let first-mover advantage slip through jade fingers?! Mark this: that youth is the phoenix egg our lineage requires. Should you fail to secure his fealty before the next moon's wane, consider your inheritance forfeit!"
The line died, leaving Ling Meixue adrift in silence—a strategist outflanked, yet kindling with combative fire.
"..."
Arrival at the Bai Family's Manor and Unanticipated Encounters
In the heart of Jiangzhou City, nestled amidst the lush greenery, stood an exquisitely elegant southern manor.
A stately Rolls-Royce Phantom glided to a halt before the intricately wrought-iron gates. Arrayed in anticipation behind the gates was a gathering of Bai family members. At the vanguard of the group stood the venerable patriarch of the family, his posture rigid with a ceremonial solemnity that spoke of his authority and the occasion's gravity.
From the throng of family members, a murmur of discontentment arose, accompanied by hushed whispers. "Who could be deserving of such grandeur and pomp? Even the mayor of our city wouldn't warrant such an elaborate welcome..." The complaint of a bespectacled young man trailed off into silence as he met the patriarch's icy, withering glare.
As the car door swung open with a gentle creak, Dr Gu Chen emerged from within, his presence commanding attention, much like a protagonist stepping onto the stage of a momentous historical event. The elderly Bai Qisong, with a show of respect, advanced towards him, clasping his hands in the traditional _zuoyi_ salute. "Your esteemed presence has brought great honour to our humble abode, Dr Gu. The Bai family is deeply and profoundly honoured by your visit," he said, his voice resonant with deference.
"Humility seems out of place amid such a palatial and opulent estate," Gu Chen retorted, his gaze sweeping across the expansive compound. The compound was a testament to the family's long-standing prosperity, featuring a series of interconnected villas, each adorned with intricate stone carvings that told tales of generations past. "I might very well be tempted to extend my stay here," he added, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.
The patriarch's eyes glinted with a shrewd calculation. Turning to the steward, he issued a firm decree. "Prepare the magnolia suite, and ensure it is furnished with a double bed. Our honoured guest shall be accommodated in the young mistress' chambers for the night," he commanded, his tone brooking no argument.
Gu Chen nearly lost his composure, his throat tightening at the patriarch's words. _The old fox is quick to take decisive action to solidify the arrangement_, he thought to himself, immediately recognising the unspoken strategy at play. In the complex and nuanced world of martial arts lineages, both the master and the disciple were bound by a code of honour. A single act of indiscretion on his part could entangle him in a web of obligations more binding than any formal betrothal contract. Even if he were to reject the proposed marriage, abandoning a young woman whose reputation had been compromised by his presence would cast a shadow over his master's pristine, jade-like reputation.
As if drawn by the palpable tension in the air, a vision in delicate chiffon materialised from the sunlit courtyard. Her legs, as white as freshly fallen snow, glistened in the sunlight, resembling columns of polished marble. The gentle sway of her pleated skirt accentuated her youthful grace and vitality. While Ling Meixue exuded the majestic and frosty allure of winter, this young woman radiated the warm and inviting charm of spring, reminiscent of the girl-next-door.
"Grandfather", her voice rang out like the gentle tinkling of wind chimes, "is this the valiant hero who came to my rescue?" She asked, her eyes shining with curiosity.
Gu Chen felt his breath catch in his throat. The plain hospital gown she had worn during their previous encounter had concealed her true beauty. Now, before him stood a porcelain-skinned beauty, her willow-leaf eyebrows framing eyes that were as deep and reflective as autumn lakes bathed in the moonlight.
Coughing discreetly to regain his composure, he gently tugged at the patriarch's sleeve. "Regarding tonight's accommodations... perhaps sharing the chambers would provide an excellent opportunity for... a rich cultural exchange," he suggested, a mischievous glint in his eye.
The old master's laughter echoed across the courtyard, booming with amusement. "Truly, a connoisseur of fine things can immediately recognise the value of a precious gem!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with approval.
Intimacies and Familial Strife
"Gege, allow me to show you around our ancestral residence!" The young maiden advanced towards Gu Chen without the slightest hint of the usual maidenly modesty. With a softness reminiscent of lotus petals, she slipped her arm through his.
That clear and sweet utterance of "Gege" reverberated deeply within him, reaching the very core of his being and stirring up long-buried memories.
It roused dormant recollections—of searing flames greedily consuming the moonlit courtyards, of the heart-wrenching wails of a five-year-old child, trapped and suffocating within smoke-filled rooms. It was a recurring vision in which the same desperate plea echoed: "Brother! Save me!" These haunting phantoms blurred the distinct lines between the suppressed trauma of his past and the ambiguous realm of prophetic dreams.
Bai Ruohan, a sophomore in her prime with a complexion as delicate as a peach blossom, moved through the ancestral gardens with an air of familiarity, as if she were traversing through a history that was shared. Her guided tour revealed courtyards where the rockeries were artfully arranged to mirror the patterns of the clouds above and where the koi ponds reflected the image of the floating pavilions, creating a picturesque and serene scene. However, her delicate constitution soon made itself apparent, as she began to breathe heavily and her cheeks took on a pale, jade-like hue.
"Did your grandfather happen to explain... our current situation?" Gu Chen inquired as they settled down to rest on a marble bench that was intricately carved with symbols of longevity.
She nestled even closer to him, and the fragrant scent of sandalwood from her sleeve mingled with his own. "The wisdom of the elders serves as our guiding light. At the age of twenty, I have reached the appropriate age for marriage. If Gege finds me..."
The timely arrival of a steward, his face glistening with perspiration, spared Gu Chen from having to respond. "Young Master! The banquet is ready and awaits your esteemed presence."
...
Four crescent-moon-shaped tables were elegantly arranged in the peony courtyard. The celadon dishes that adorned them remained untouched, bathed in the warm, amber glow of the fading twilight. A fashionable woman, clad in a luxurious brocade qipao, let out a disdainful sniff. "Must we endure the pangs of hunger while watching Little Miss engage in her flirtatious games? Such displays are nothing more than provincial theatrics," she sneered.
The censoring glare of Patriarch Bai silenced any further remarks. As the couple emerged through the wisteria-draped entrance, his initially frosty expression softened, melting away like the ice of spring.
"Let us pay our respects to our esteemed benefactor!" The patriarch's proclamation hung in the air like the tolling of temple bells. Bai Ruohan gracefully led Gu Chen to the seat of honor.
A sarcastic chuckle cut through the solemn atmosphere of the ceremony. "Grandfather, isn't this the very suitor you initially proposed for _me_? How incredibly convenient that the frail Ruohan has now become your consolation bride!"
The one who interjected was Bai Shanshan, a woman whose beauty was as hard and polished as jade. Every aspect of her appearance seemed calculated, in stark contrast to her cousin's natural and cherubic innocence. Years of vying for the patriarch's favor had soured their sisterly bond, transforming it into a bitter and sharp rivalry.
"Silence!" The patriarch's cane struck the stone floor with a thunderous finality.
Undeterred by the rebuke, the venomous beauty twirled her wine cup in her hand. "The truth always has a way of stinging, doesn't it? Your precious invalid has stolen what rightfully belongs to the true gem of the Bai family."
In the thickening atmosphere of tension, Bai Ruohan's fingers instinctively sought refuge in the fabric of Gu Chen's sleeve, like a tremulous sparrow looking for a place to hide. The ceremonial duck that was served at the banquet suddenly seemed to taste of ashes, a bitter reminder of the unspoken and intricate genealogical secrets that hung heavy in the air.
Clash of Values and Veiled Truths
Bai Ruohan's fingers, as exquisite and unblemished as the finest jade, tightened ever so slightly around the handle of her porcelain teacup. Her large, ingenious eyes dilated with a crystalline bewilderment that seemed to reflect the innocence of a bygone era. "What precisely do you mean by a substitute?" she breathed, her words quivering like the most delicate dewdrops that tremble upon the petals of a lotus in the early morning light.
"It was merely a contingency plan," Bai Shanshan drawled with a languid and haughty air, swirling the deep, ruby-red wine in her glass with her vermilion-lacquered nails that glinted in the soft light. "That betrothal arrangement should rightfully have been my burden to bear. Grandfather harbored concerns that your delicate and infirm constitution might prove to be a deterrent to the prospective groom." Her laughter rang out, a tinkling sound that resembled the shattering of ancient celadon porcelain, filled with a mixture of mockery and self-satisfaction. "Thank heavens I had the good sense to decline! Unlike your... security officer over there."
The revelation hung heavy in the air of the ancestral hall, much like the fragrant yet oppressive smoke that emanates from burning incense, permeating every corner and casting a shadow over the gathered company. Years prior, Patriarch Bai had painted a vivid and glowing portrait of Gu Chen as an exemplary paragon—a scion hailing from a noble and prestigious martial arts lineage, a living and breathing embodiment of opulence, refinement, and elegance. Now, Bai Shanshan's initial rejection had morphed into a bitter and triumphant sneer as she subjected the man before her to a scrutinising gaze. Despite his impeccably tailored Brioni suit, his humble occupation as a security officer seemed to undermine and tarnish the grand and lofty image that had been painstakingly crafted for him.
Gu Chen's thumb absently traced the crescent-moon-shaped scar on Bai Ruohan's wrist – a poignant and enduring reminder of the ailments that had plagued her during her childhood. "A phoenix has the discerning ability to choose its place of repose," he murmured, a mischievous glimmer dancing in his eyes like the flickering flames of a candle. "Some losses are, in fact, the universe's subtle way of realigning the cosmic order."
The banquet hall erupted into a cacophony of derisive snickers and scornful laughter. The clattering of cutlery against plates filled the air, accompanied by the furtive glances and meaningful looks exchanged among the relatives. A security officer? This was the extraordinary and highly touted match that the patriarch had extolled with such enthusiasm?
Bai Shanshan leaned forward, the diamond pendant around her neck glittering like a fragment of frozen starlight, catching and reflecting the ambient light in a dazzling display. "My fiancé's Mercedes-Maybach S680 – a mere trifle, valued at 2.8 million yuan. And this trinket?" She flicked the teardrop-shaped diamond with a dismissive gesture. "It's nothing more than a token worth 1.8 million yuan. So, do tell, dear sister, what sort of gifts has your... benefactor bestowed upon you?"
Patriarch Bai's knuckles turned a deathly white as he gripped his dragon-head cane with a vice-like grip, his anger and frustration barely contained. Bai Ruohan rose to her feet with the grace and elegance of spring bamboo emerging from the snow, her movements fluid and effortless. Her voice, though soft and gentle, carried the icy edge of a winter's frost as she retorted, "Brother Gu's worth transcends the shallow and materialistic measures that you so readily rely upon."
The hall fell into a deathly silence as Gu Chen produced a velvet box with a solemn and ceremonial air, his every movement deliberate and measured. Inside, nestled within the plush lining of the box, was a jadeite bangle – its deep, lush green hues seemed to swirl and shift like the ancient mists of time, carrying with them the whispers of thousands of years of history. Paired with it was a pendant carved from the most exquisite celestial-grade mutton-fat jade, its smooth surface polished to a mirror-like finish. These artefacts exuded an air of ancestral grandeur and nobility, making Bai Shanshan's diamond seem as common and unremarkable as a piece of ordinary quartz in comparison.
"These are cherished family heirlooms," Gu Chen said, inclining his head respectfully, his voice filled with reverence. "They were once worn by the empresses of the Qing dynasty, a symbol of their power and prestige." His finger gently brushed against Bai Ruohan's collarbone as he fastened the pendant around her neck, the cool, glacial purity of the jade contrasting beautifully with the delicate blush that spread across her cheeks. "But their true value lies not in their monetary worth, but in the hands of the one who now treasures them with all their heart," he added, his words carrying a weight of sincerity and depth.
Silence descended upon the hall like a thick, impenetrable fog, enveloping everything in its path. The patriarch's stern and thunderous expression softened, replaced by a look of pride and approval, like the blooming of plum blossoms amid winter. Suddenly, Bai Shanshan's diamond pendant seemed garish and ostentatious, a mere firefly in the presence of the radiant and majestic moon.
To be continuous…