55th Floor of the Grand Hyatt Jin Mao Tower, Donghai – Yue Zhen Xuan.
Sitting here for a meal, the panoramic windows offered a sweeping view of the Pujiang River on both banks, its lights cascading like a river of stars, brilliant and shimmering.
On the table were several delicate Cantonese dishes.
The slow-cooked soup still steamed, filling the air with a faint fragrance of abalone and the crisp coolness of ginger.
Gao Hongzhi looked at the man across from him, his expression carrying a hint of shame he could barely hide.
They had met by chance in Yanjing, hit it off immediately, and talked about everything from semiconductors to Nietzsche, becoming kindred spirits who held nothing back from each other.
Yet now, every word felt strained.
Baek Jeong-hun ate with his head down, mechanically raising his glass and downing one drink after another, as if he just wanted to get this awkward meal over with as quickly as possible.
Sigh.
Gao Hongzhi had been full of hope.
He had always believed that matters between young people should take their natural course.
Korean pop culture was sweeping through East Asia, and Bai Xialin came from Seoul.
She was pretty, cheerful, and well-mannered.
By all rights, it should only have been a matter of time before she became an inseparable best friend with Hongyi.
He had even seen Bai Xialin that afternoon at the airport.
She had helped her father pick up his luggage and politely bowed to Gao Hongzhi and Ya Xinyao.
In his mind, Gao Hongzhi had already pictured the scene: The two girls walking arm in arm, shopping together, binge-watching dramas, sharing their teenage secrets.
And Gu Yebai would grow up in that kind of atmosphere, learning a lot from them.
The friendship of their generation would strengthen the bond between him and his middle-aged confidant, Baek Jeong-hun.
Cooperation in the East Asian market would naturally move forward as well.
But now, everything had soured.
Just now on a WeChat video call, Gao Hongyi had been screaming hysterically…
Calling Bai Xialin a “scourge” and a “monster,” saying over and over, “Don’t you dare try to take my Bai Shu away.”
Between the lines, she had painted Bai Xialin as a scheming seductress whose sole purpose was to lure away a good, innocent boy.
Not only had Gao Hongzhi and his wife heard it—Baek Jeong-hun had heard every word loud and clear.
“I’m sorry, old Baek…”
“I don’t know what got into my daughter, saying things like that all of a sudden.”
Baek Jeong-hun paused.
His chopsticks hung in midair, hesitant to come down.
After a long moment, he let out a deep breath and forced a faint smile at the corner of his mouth.
“Old Gao, kids say things. You don’t need to take it too seriously.”
“People always live inside their prejudices. When it comes to a stranger, or someone they’ve only met once or twice, they imagine things and arbitrarily paint them as the villain… that’s perfectly normal.”
He spoke calmly, his tone even carrying a hint of philosophical tolerance.
But Gao Hongzhi could see it clearly….
Baek Jeong-hun’s left hand, resting on the table, had its five fingers slightly curled.
The knuckles were whitening from the pressure.
His gaze, though restrained, was cold.
Even though they hadn’t known each other long, the long conversation on the plane—from semiconductors to Nietzsche, from life to family—had already shown Gao Hongzhi everything he needed to know: Baek Jeong-hun was a complete doting father to his daughter.
What’s more, Baek Jeong-hun had personally told him a story before—the 1992 Los Angeles riots.
Back then, black rioters had rampaged, looting Korean-owned shops.
The Korean immigrants were forced to defend themselves, setting up rifles on their own rooftops and exchanging gunfire with the mob.
Bloody days.
He had been right there in the middle of it, had seen the streets lit up by flames with his own eyes, had held the shotgun that protected his family.
A man who could survive chaos like that and rise to an executive position at Samsung Group definitely had a fierce, ruthless streak underneath.
Saying he wasn’t angry?
Gao Hongzhi didn’t believe it for a second.
“Old Baek.”
“My daughter has prejudices against your daughter, that’s true. But my son seems to have a pretty good impression of her…”
“And my son is much calmer.”
He paused, his voice taking on a sincere effort:
“So I was thinking, why not let the two kids meet first?”
“Here’s my idea: later, when they enroll at St. George’s International School, they’ll be classmates anyway. Before that, there’s also the headmaster’s interview.”
“If they get to know each other beforehand, it’ll do nothing but good.”
“Don’t worry—I’ll make sure your daughter gets into St. George’s. I absolutely won’t let your child suffer any unfair treatment!”
Hearing this, Baek Jeong-hun’s expression softened a little.
“Your son?”
“Is that the same hardworking young man from Linchuan County you mentioned before?”
“That’s right, Baek.”
“Born into poverty but never complaining, supporting his family by writing novels, excellent grades, a gentle temperament… a boy like that would be a perfect friend for Bai Xialin. My daughter also loves reading novels—especially mysteries. They could get along wonderfully.”
Baek Jeong-hun suddenly regained his usual enthusiasm, even cracking a smile.
He seemed to have completely forgotten Gao Hongyi’s earlier outburst.
“To be honest, compared to your daughter, I really would prefer that your son meets my little Xialin. In a foreign land, what we need most is that kind of resilience!”
“I like self-motivated people, old Gao.”
“Cheers!”
“Cheers, old Baek. I’ll drink three extra as my apology.”
A trace of unease suddenly flickered through Gao Hongzhi’s heart.
He absolutely could not let Gao Hongyi find out about this.
Not even a whisper of it.
He knew his daughter too well.
Gao Hongyi’s obsession with Gu Yebai had already gone far beyond ordinary “liking.”
It was a pathological possessiveness, like ivy winding tighter and tighter, denser and denser, until it suffocated.
As a father, and also as a man who had been through life, Gao Hongzhi understood better than anyone: when a woman’s desire for control became this strong, a man would eventually feel trapped.
He could already picture the future: one day, Gu Yebai might feel so suffocated he’d want to run.
Or, Gao Hongyi, terrified of losing him, might do something even more extreme…
No.
Maybe it really was time to find a proper opportunity and have a serious talk with Hongyi.
Make her understand that love wasn’t about locking someone in a cage—it was about leaving room to breathe.
Make her… a little more normal.
But before that, getting Xiao Gu settled, and handling Bai Xialin’s school matters, was the top priority.
“I’ll send you my son’s WeChat.”
As soon as he finished speaking, Gao Hongzhi’s eyes landed on Gu Yebai’s profile picture—and he couldn’t help but pause.
When he had first added Gu Yebai as a contact, the profile picture was a classic 4-bit pixel art character standing under a crooked signpost.
At some point, without saying a word, it had been changed to a couple avatar.
Gao Hongzhi looked at the picture and gave a helpless smile.
Ding.
With a light tap of his finger, Gu Yebai’s WeChat ID had been forwarded to Baek Jeong-hun through the chat window.
Baek Jeong-hun glanced down to confirm, then, without a word, opened the forwarded message.
A few seconds later, the message appeared silently in Bai Xialin’s chat.
Tomson Riviera, 28th Floor.
Only a warm yellow floor lamp was on in the room, its soft light falling on the girl’s profile, making her violet pupils gleam all the more bewitchingly—like two jewels soaked in the dark night.
Bai Xialin sat on the edge of the sofa, her knees pressed together.
Her hoodie clung to her body, still wet from the rain.
The thin fabric, soaked through, faintly revealed the curves beneath.
Her collar hung slightly open, a few raindrops still clinging to her collarbone, slowly sliding down along the curve of her skin.
Damp strands of hair stuck to her neck; several black locks were plastered against the side of her face like ink bleeding across porcelain-white paper, giving her an unintentional, almost alluring dishevelment.
She had just forcibly brought to an end what had been a wild “piano piece” of her own.
Now, she looked down at the WeChat profile that had been forwarded to her screen.
Heh.
“Please take good care of me.”
“Baiye Duxing.”
She softly murmured that name.
A smile slowly bloomed at the corner of her lips, like someone who had found a treasure.
Then, she tapped on Gu Yebai’s profile picture and chose to add him as a friend.
All that was left now was to wait.