Chapter 15

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More and more guests filled the Banquet Hall. Su Jinglan ignored everyone around her, her sole focus on Ning Jiuwei as she waited for an answer.

Ning Jiuwei didn’t want to brush her off, and she certainly didn’t want to voice her true feelings.

Su Jinglan’s features were flawless and beyond reproach, her every gesture radiating an irresistible charm born of her natural allure. No one could withstand it.

Having already let the truth slip unintentionally while borrowing Wen Wanyuan’s name, Ning Jiuwei mustered a smile and feigned ignorance. “What do you mean, President Su?”

“Nothing.” Su Jinglan was certain Ning Jiuwei had understood perfectly. Since Ning Jiuwei wasn’t willing to answer directly, she wouldn’t press the issue. Ning Jiuwei’s reaction had already given her the answer she sought. Su Jinglan smiled and smoothly shifted topics. “Your friend seems very close to you. Is she a jewelry designer too?”

“Mm.” Ning Jiuwei’s response was lackluster, a single syllable that shut down the conversation.

Su Jinglan was adept at keeping a dialogue alive and wouldn’t let it end so abruptly. She accepted two glasses of champagne from her assistant and offered one to Ning Jiuwei. “I don’t believe I caught your friend’s name, Designer Ning?”

Neither woman had shared her name with the other. Ning Jiuwei held the glass, breathing in the heady fruity aroma of the sparkling wine. “If President Su is interested in her, why not ask her yourself?”

Guests in the Banquet Hall chatted in small clusters here and there, and a few cast glances their way. Ning Jiuwei noticed and pointed it out to Su Jinglan. “President Su, it looks like some of your friends are over there.”

Su Jinglan followed Ning Jiuwei’s gaze. Those people were heading toward them.

They were mere business acquaintances, hardly friends. Su Jinglan pulled her eyes away, meaning to explain this to Ning Jiuwei, but when she turned back, Ning Jiuwei had already slipped away in the moment of distraction.

She started to follow, only for the leader of the group—a sharply dressed man with his hair neatly slicked back—to call out to her. “President Su, what a surprise running into you here.”

Su Jinglan glanced at Ning Jiuwei and shot her assistant a meaningful look before replying coolly, “President Cheng.”

“You look absolutely radiant tonight, President Su. We were just wondering a moment ago if the press conference had brought in some big celebrity—we didn’t recognize you at first.” Cheng Chukuo’s eyes gleamed. He’d heard the rumors: Su Jinglan was single, famously aloof like a blanket of frost and snow, with no one bold enough to pursue her. But seeing her now, a woman like that ignited an overwhelming urge to conquer.

Su Jinglan let his flattery drift past like background noise, not registering a single word. “President Cheng, you’re here for the press conference as well?”

“Indeed. Word is DM snagged the rising star designer Fei Yuan—she just won an award overseas and got poached back home with a fat paycheck.” Cheng Chukuo couldn’t resist giving Su Jinglan a thorough once-over. “Did you come alone, President Su?”

Such galas typically involved bringing a date, and with the press conference yet to begin, half of Cheng Chukuo’s mind was already wandering toward Su Jinglan.

Su Jinglan curved her lips into a subtle smile. “My fiancée is over there.” She nodded in Ning Jiuwei’s direction.

“President Su, you’re engaged?” Cheng Chukuo looked toward the woman standing some distance away, recognizing her as the one who’d been speaking with Su Jinglan earlier. His heart plummeted.

Why did all the beautiful women have to like women?

“I’ve been engaged for a while. We just haven’t made it public.” Su Jinglan delivered the lie without so much as a flicker in her expression. “When we tie the knot, we’ll be sure to invite you for a drink, President Cheng.”

Ning Jiuwei carried her glass of champagne to a spot well away from Su Jinglan and casually set it down on a nearby table. She hadn’t taken a single sip—not even bothered to pretend by touching it to her lips.

The Banquet Hall’s corner door was unobtrusive, though people passed through it now and then. Ning Jiuwei chose a busier side exit, intending to slip out right then.

She was just about to leave when she noticed a little shadow had attached itself to her side—Assistant Lin.

Assistant Tan, whom she’d sent off earlier, had somehow reappeared at her elbow.

“Designer Ning, are you hungry?” Tan Yushu held out a piece of pastry. “This one’s especially delicious. You have to try it.”

Ning Jiuwei eyed the calorie-laden treat and turned down Assistant Tan’s offer. “Thanks, but I’m not hungry. You go ahead and eat it.”

If she wanted to escape the Banquet Hall, she had to ditch Assistant Lin first. An idea struck Ning Jiuwei, and she instructed Tan Yushu, “Little Tan, why don’t you take Assistant Lin to try some?”

“I’ve already eaten.” Lin Fengmian didn’t budge. Her sole duty at the moment was to stick to Ning Jiuwei like glue and not lose sight of her before the president returned.

Assistant Tan took her orders only from Ning Jiuwei. She’d do whatever Ning Jiuwei asked, whether she succeeded or not. Lin Fengmian’s claim of having eaten didn’t deter her. “You can always have a bit more. Come on, Assistant Lin—let me show you how good this pastry is. It’s amazing, really.”

“No need.” Lin Fengmian sidestepped gracefully, dodging Assistant Tan’s hand. The distaste on her face was plain as day to Assistant Tan.

Assistant Tan withdrew her hand awkwardly. “All right, then.”

Each invited guest had an assigned seat, and every sofa could accommodate two or three people. With more than an hour still to go before the banquet began, the staff members first gave the guests a general indication of their positions. Ning Jiuwei stood in an inconspicuous corner, pondering how she might slip away, when a staff member approached and directed her to her spot.

“Designer Ning, your seat is over there. Your name is posted on the backrest.” The staff member pointed toward a sofa near the stage at the front of the Banquet Hall. “It seats three. Anyone extra can take a spot in the last two rows, wherever they like.”

Ning Jiuwei’s place was in the middle of the second row, offering a perfect view. But leaving once the press conference started would draw every eye. She memorized the location and told the staff member, “I only brought one assistant.”

“Then I won’t keep you.” The time before the press conference was meant for guests to mingle and make connections. The staff member gave a polite bow and moved on to guide the next arrival.

Su Jinglan finally broke free from one conversation only to get snagged by another, but she reached Ning Jiuwei’s side at last.

“Designer Ning, where’s your seat?” Su Jinglan had kept her focus on Ning Jiuwei the entire time, noting every person who had spoken to her.

Ning Jiuwei couldn’t dodge her. She reined in her emotions and replied evenly, “Middle of the second row. And you, President Su?”

The relentless Cheng Chukuo trailed after her. He arrived just in time to hear Ning Jiuwei address Su Jinglan as “President Su”—hardly the intimate tone of a fiancée. Plastering on a broad smile, he asked Su Jinglan, “President Su, I forgot to ask: when are you two tying the knot? This year?”

As he said “you two,” his eyes fixed on Ning Jiuwei, watching for the slightest flicker of reaction.

Any hint of surprise or confusion from her would expose Su Jinglan’s lie—or prove she was still single.

Ning Jiuwei caught the implication of “you two.” Inwardly startled, she kept her expression serene, her mild smile unwavering as she turned to Su Jinglan, leaving the response in her hands.

“Nothing set yet.” Su Jinglan slipped an arm around Ning Jiuwei’s waist, holding her close. “Once we pick a date, we’ll send President Cheng an invitation.”

Watching the two in such perfect harmony dashed Cheng Chukuo’s hopes at last. He turned and knocked back a couple of drinks.

The moment he was gone, Ning Jiuwei brushed Su Jinglan’s hand away. “No explanation, President Su?”

“I didn’t want to waste time on someone irrelevant, so I told him you’re my fiancée, Designer Ning.” Su Jinglan’s fingers lingered where they had encircled Ning Jiuwei’s waist—a perfect, slender fit for her arm.

Ning Jiuwei’s smile vanished. Her gaze turned icy, like water frozen solid, devoid of any warmth. In front of Assistant Tan and Assistant Lin, she warned Su Jinglan sternly, “Just this once. I hope you won’t tarnish my reputation again, President Su. I have no girlfriend. And no fiancée.”

“Nor do I.” Su Jinglan stayed calm, her smile gentle as she absorbed Ning Jiuwei’s ire. “Please don’t be upset, Designer Ning.”

“I’m not upset.” Ning Jiuwei met Su Jinglan’s eyes, her words precise and deliberate. “I simply want no emotional ties to you whatsoever, President Su.”

Before outsiders, Ning Jiuwei was always gentle and composed, like a vast sea embracing every river that flowed into it. Tan Yushu had never heard Designer Ning speak in such a frigid tone.

Tan Yushu’s pulse quickened. She wanted to say something to defuse the tension, but as a mere assistant, she knew better than to interject in front of the president.

Su Jinglan felt a stab in her heart and fell silent.

The words were out; there was no calling them back, and Ning Jiuwei had no desire to. She mastered her temper, softened her features, and offered Su Jinglan a faint smile. “My apologies, President Su. Excuse me.”

Ning Jiuwei had no interest in schmoozing. She headed straight to her seat to wait for the press conference to begin.

The plush fabric sofa dipped under her weight alone. Tan Yushu fetched a bottle of mineral water from the refreshment table and handed it to her quietly.

“You sit, too.” Ning Jiuwei twisted off the cap and took a few sips. The cool liquid eased the agitation churning inside her.

Tan Yushu glanced toward the distance, where President Su watched them—or more precisely, Designer Ning—and shook her head.

“Designer Ning, I don’t think President Su meant any harm. She wasn’t trying to toy with you.” Tan Yushu spoke up sincerely in the president’s defense.

Ning Jiuwei gave a soft hum. “I know.”

The press conference was moments from starting, and guests were settling into their seats. Ning Jiuwei never once glanced back at the rear of the hall. She sipped her water, waiting calmly for the host to take the stage.

In her peripheral vision, a figure drew near. Ning Jiuwei realized she could now identify Su Jinglan from the barest outline.

She turned to face her squarely, her gaze drifting naturally to the backrest of the sofa beside hers.

The backrest surprisingly lacked a name tag, making it impossible to tell whose seat it was.

“My seat has been arranged here,” Su Jinglan said, maintaining a proper distance as she stood in front of the sofa. “Designer Ning, if you mind me sitting next to you, I can move to the back.”

The back-row seats were reserved for floaters and mobile staff. Su Jinglan was the President of the HS Design Division—Ning Jiuwei’s superior. How could she let her boss sit back there and lose face?

Using the dimming lights for cover, Ning Jiuwei clenched her fist. “I don’t mind.” With the armrest between them, sitting side by side was no big deal anyway.

“That’s good, then.” Su Jinglan flashed a brilliant smile, took the last step forward, and settled onto Ning Jiuwei’s sofa right beside her.

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