When Li Shengming got home, the first thing he did was rush to the dining room. Four or five dishes were kept warm on the table, with a fragrant, colorful Scallion Australian Lobster in the center—Mommy’s specialty.
Delighted, he tossed his backpack aside, washed his hands, and asked the servant to get him some rice.
Zhuang Qiting came out of the wine cellar, a bottle of Chardonnay in hand. Passing the dining room, he saw his silly son eating happily, a smile tugged at his lips, his mood instantly brightened.
This little rascal—he dares try to outsmart his old man? This father has eaten more salt than you’ve eaten rice!
.
Mid-Autumn Festival was approaching, and invitations to the Zhuang Residence poured in like snowflakes.
Li Yaru picked out a few fashion or charity banquets to attend, always treated as the star guest—at her age and status, she no longer needed to network actively.
Zhuang Qiting’s schedule was also packed, mostly with serious political and business events, which Li Yaru disliked attending.
The only time the couple appeared together in public was at the Hong Kong Island Zongshanghui’s Mid-Autumn celebration.
As the oldest and largest business group on Hong Kong Island, Zongshanghui was a formidable force, covering over half of the Hong Kong stock index.
As the current President of the General Chamber of Commerce, Zhuang Qiting not only had to attend with his wife but also deliver a speech on stage.
The event was held at a luxury hotel under Xingding Group, sponsored by the Yufeng Group of the Yi Family, with other expenses covered by the members.
There was a luncheon, an afternoon member exchange, and a more private ball in the evening.
Li Yaru didn’t care for these business events—full of financial journalists, flashbulbs, formal attire, endless smiling, and all kinds of group photos. The worst part? The published photos weren’t even retouched!
“Cover a bit more for me… the corners of my eyes, and the nasolabial lines.”
The makeup artist’s eye twitched. “Madam, where do you have nasolabial lines…”
“You can’t see them, but the camera always does,” Li Yaru said dejectedly.
The makeup artist had to carefully dab on more concealer and powder. “Madam, you take care of yourself better than anyone I’ve seen—your skin’s better than most actresses in their twenties.”
Zhuang Qiting, having changed into his suit, walked into the dressing room, catching the makeup artist complimenting Li Yaru. He couldn’t help but smirk.
“What are you laughing at?” Li Yaru’s ears were sharp.
The man walked over to the mirror, tilted Li Yaru’s chin up with his finger, scrutinized her for a few seconds, then waved the makeup artist away.
Li Yaru didn’t want her to leave, but Zhuang Qiting gave the makeup artist a cool look. Heart pounding, the makeup artist smoothed Li Yaru’s hair bun and left with her assistants.
Li Yaru glared at him. “Do you have to control everything?”
“You’re beautiful enough, wife.” Zhuang Qiting half-leaned against the vanity, fingers idly caressing her slender neck. “If we don’t leave now, we’ll be late.”
“The ball tonight is hosted by the Lu Family. They’ve invited the Philharmonic Orchestra and celebrities to perform. It’s your kind of scene. Shaoyan and Shaozhou will be there too. Just bear with the luncheon—be good—and you won’t have to stay with me in the afternoon. You can have tea with your friends at the hotel. Just don’t make me come looking for you.”
Li Yaru put on her earrings and said softly, “I never said I didn’t want to go. If you talk like that, it makes me sound unreasonable. Even without you, I’d still go. Don’t forget, I was a board member two terms ago.”
Zhuang Qiting gently patted her head.
Li Yaru pointed. “Get my shoes for me.”
Zhuang Qiting was happy to serve his wife, fetching a pair of pretty pink satin heels.
Li Yaru stretched out her foot and wiggled it. “Put them on for me.” She looked up at him, a sly smile on her face.
Zhuang Qiting laughed silently, obediently squatting down by her feet. A crease formed in the middle of his brand new black Oxford shoes, like a coiled black python—he didn’t exactly radiate safety.
He held her foot in his palm, playing with it for a while, then pinched her toes.
Such beautiful feet. Zhuang Qiting suddenly wanted to take a bite, or maybe put them somewhere even more fitting.
His wife said he was too lustful—he didn’t deny it.
Why would he restrain himself with his own wife? He wasn’t stupid. He wished he could water this seductive rose of his at every moment.
So he took care of his health very seriously. After forty, health was more important than money, power, or fame.
Li Yaru noticed he wasn’t moving, guessed what he was thinking, bit her lip in disbelief, and urged him to hurry up. Only then did he finally put on her shoes.
“Let’s go.”
Zhuang Qiting bent his arm, and Li Yaru took it.
The husband was dignified and steady, the wife elegant and poised—a perfect match.
.
The midday event was as serious and formal as the white suit Li Yaru wore.
She sat at the main table in the center, bored, watching Zhuang Qiting give his speech on stage.
From this angle, he looked even more like a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
The banquet was lavish but not really for eating.
Li Yaru nibbled half a custard bun to fill her stomach, then spent the rest of the time helping Zhuang Qiting toast members and pose for endless group photos.
The scene was full of toasts and clinking glasses, the flashbulbs constantly capturing the business tycoons who regularly appeared in the news.
The only interesting part was the mooncake tasting game.
Out of eighty-eight mooncakes, three had prizes hidden inside.
Egged on by a group of ladies, Li Yaru joined in for fun.
She randomly picked a mooncake, bit into it and nearly chipped a tooth.
When she broke it open, there was a lucky little gold mooncake inside the Chenpi Red Bean filling, redeemable for a year of Super VIP access at a high-end club under the General Chamber of Commerce.
The prize wasn’t heavy, but it was all about luck and prestige!
Applause broke out around her, the compliments flowing like water. Li Yaru glanced suspiciously at Zhuang Qiting, who raised his wine glass to her, eyes calm.
Li Yaru instantly understood—he’d obviously arranged it. Such little tricks—she arched her brow in satisfaction, her boredom for the afternoon swept away.
“Happy now?” He leaned in close, his breath hot against her ear.
“Not bad,” Li Yaru replied with a sly look. If he wanted to please her, she was happy to accept.
Zhuang Qiting lowered his voice, coaxing his beautiful wife in such a serious setting: “You were very good today, Aru. This is your little reward.”
He always treated her like a child—whether it was his twisted taste or just the habit of being the family head, she couldn’t say.
Li Yaru didn’t exactly like it, but she didn’t dislike it either. As she looked away, she suddenly caught sight of a tall, slender figure. Before she could get a good look, the figure disappeared into the noisy crowd.
A vague, strange feeling stirred in her chest, but quickly faded.
After the luncheon, a few ladies invited her for afternoon tea at the hotel’s Administrative Lounge at three.
With an hour to spare, she went back to her suite and changed into a soft, shimmering rose-pink gown, letting down her hair from its bun so it fell smoothly down her back.
“You don’t have to follow me this afternoon. Go have some fun—put it on my tab at the hotel.” Li Yaru picked up her clutch, ready to head out.
“Okay, okay! Madam, just call me if you need anything!” her assistant Ada said happily.
She entered the elevator, pressed the button for the Administrative Lounge, and arrived quickly without any stops.
Li Yaru stepped out with a light gait, her heels clicking on the polished marble floor. She didn’t notice the tall man waiting in the elevator lobby until a voice called out to her.
“Aru.”
A clear, gentle voice—it was easy to imagine the owner was a refined, gentle gentleman.
Li Yaru froze, rusty memories suddenly resurfacing.
She almost knew the answer right away, but after more than twenty years, she couldn’t be sure. She slowly turned and saw the tall, thin man standing a meter away.
It was the one Zhuang Qiting always called her childhood friend.
And also her first love.
“…Zizhuo?” Li Yaru blinked.
She’d never imagined she’d bump into Fan Zizhuo at such an ordinary moment. They hadn’t been in touch for over twenty years; the last time was just two weeks before her wedding to Zhuang Qiting.
Fan Zizhuo, always gentle and steady, had called her and asked if she wanted to leave with him—to the mainland, somewhere Zhuang Qiting couldn’t reach.
—”I’ll take care of you for a lifetime, Aru. Trust me.”
She refused, but tears fell anyway.
Fan Zizhuo still had the same build as when he was young—tall and thin, without any of the greasiness of middle-aged men, looking healthy.
His once-plain shirt had been replaced by a high-end three-piece suit, his hair slicked back with gel.
He was still handsome, though the lines on his face made him look more mature and steady. The gentle aura he’d had at twenty was now even deeper, tempered by the years.
“Long time no see, Aru.” Fan Zizhuo walked over. “I saw you at the event earlier. I was afraid you wouldn’t remember me, so I didn’t say hi.”
Li Yaru was still in a daze, stuck between “what the heck” and “am I dreaming,” though it didn’t show on her face—just a bit slow to respond.
“Long time no see, Zizhuo. Are you here for the Chamber of Commerce event too?”
“Yeah. My company joined the General Chamber of Commerce this year, so I got an invitation.”
Fan Zizhuo smiled softly, his gaze gentle. After the greeting, neither of them spoke again—the atmosphere grew awkward.
Her phone buzzed several times in her bag—her friends calling to ask why she wasn’t there yet. She didn’t hear it.
The air felt thick and sticky, almost suffocating.
Fan Zizhuo looked at her, seeming to hesitate for a while before finally asking, “Are you free now? May I buy you a cup of coffee?”