Chapter 9: The Princess of Jingan

Gu Qingshuang’s exchange with Gu Xueqiang had ended on a sour note, and she was ready to make an early exit.

Ming Li instinctively moved to follow her, but Gu Xueqiang’s voice cut through the air, stopping her in her tracks. “You stay. There are still people you need to meet.”

Gu Qingshuang turned back, her voice sharp. “You’ve already seen what you needed to see. Is this really necessary?”

“It is,” Gu Xueqiang replied, a smile touching her lips that didn’t reach her eyes. In fact, there was something dark and predatory behind it. “Because for now, Ming Li is still your wife.”

She shifted her gaze to the younger woman. “Ming Li is simply doing what you were supposed to do, Shuangshuang. You’ve been willful for far too long.”

Gu Qingshuang pressed her lips together, silenced. Her mother had found her Achilles’ heel.

“You’re tired. Go home,” Gu Xueqiang said, her tone final.

Gu Qingshuang glanced at Ming Li. The latter offered a gentle, reassuring smile and stepped forward, whispering, “Mother is just showing me the ropes. Besides, I’m used to these things. It’s actually quite fun. Just be careful on your way home.”

“You…” Gu Qingshuang started to say something, but the words died in her throat.

What was there to say?

They had a deal from the start. Gu Qingshuang would help her through her immediate crisis, and in return, Ming Li would play the role of the perfect wife.

To be precise, she was a “replacement” required by the Gu family—by Gu Xueqiang.

Ming Li was bound so that Qingshuang could be free.

Gu Qingshuang detested her mother’s autocratic and tyrannical ways, yet she found herself unable to break out of this cycle. It was a path that seemed predestined from the moment of her birth. Perhaps life was just one giant loop, a script written by fate long ago. She had no standing to speak up for Ming Li now.

Gu Qingshuang looked back at Gu Xueqiang, her posture softening slightly. “Since you know about the agreement between Ming Li and me, don’t be so harsh on her. Also, I was the one who kicked out the floral arrangement teacher today, and Wang Xi from the styling room. I didn’t like their attitudes, so I fired them. It has nothing to do with Ming Li.”

Gu Qingshuang was not the type to apologize or yield easily; even when she tried to be reasonable, her words came out stiff and blunt.

She was exactly like Gu Xueqiang.

Gu Xueqiang gave her a sidelong glance. “Shuangshuang, you need to change the tone you use when speaking to your mother.”

“This is what I learned from you,” Qingshuang retorted. “It’s hard to change.”

“Even if it’s hard, you will change it,” Gu Xueqiang insisted.

“…”

“I’ll try.”

It was the greatest concession Gu Qingshuang could make. She pressed further, “And about Ming Li?”

“I’ve already told you,” Gu Xueqiang said. “As long as she is your wife, her job is to help you establish a foothold in the company. There is much you don’t understand, so she must be capable enough for the both of you.”

“But Ming Li and I are going to…” Gu Qingshuang paused. The conviction in her voice wavered as she met Ming Li’s gentle eyes. Feeling a sudden pang of guilt, she lowered her voice and finished, “…separate eventually.”

“Who can say what the future holds?” Gu Xueqiang patted her daughter’s shoulder. “Shuangshuang, as long as you aren’t divorced, she must spend every day preparing to help you.”

“Don’t make things too difficult for her,” Qingshuang said, taking a step back.

Gu Xueqiang merely smiled and said nothing.

In this bloodless struggle between mother and daughter, Gu Xueqiang had won a total victory.

And Ming Li was merely a bargaining chip in their game, a detail no one truly cared about.

Having spent years in the Gu household, Ming Li was used to such scenes. She could still face it all with a practiced smile.

–

After Gu Qingshuang left, Ming Li followed Gu Xueqiang to meet several CEOs. These were prominent figures from across the country, the kind of people usually only seen in financial magazines. Ming Li handled herself with perfect grace.

Accompanying Gu Xueqiang to social functions had long been a mandatory course for Ming Li, and she had always been a star pupil.

Once the rounds were over, the two stood in a corner of the hall. Gu Xueqiang drained her glass of wine before speaking slowly. “Did you complain to Shuangshuang?”

“No,” Ming Li denied. “She came home early today and happened to see the floral teacher when she came looking for me…”

Before she could finish, Gu Xueqiang cut her off sharply. “Ming Li, you were late today.”

That was a point Ming Li couldn’t argue.

“I’m sorry,” Ming Li apologized. “I’ll be more careful in the future.”

“I recall that punctuality was the very first lesson I taught you,” Gu Xueqiang said. “And yet, after three years, not only have you failed to improve, you’re regressing. You’re looking for help and making excuses.”

Ming Li remained silent, quietly accepting the reprimand.

It wasn’t even a shouting match; Gu Xueqiang was perfectly calm, a stark contrast to the explosive tension she had with Gu Qingshuang. She projected her authority with a chilling stillness, creating an atmosphere of suffocating pressure.

It was the aura of a true sovereign.

Ming Li had once been a high-ranking figure herself, but she had never mastered this particular brand of intimidation.

Gu Xueqiang was formidable. She wasn’t just a paper tiger; she was strong, cold, and hard to the core, both in mind and body. She was exceptional.

Ming Li admired her for that, but she also feared her.

“I’m sorry,” Ming Li apologized again.

In public, Gu Xueqiang knew how to show restraint. After a few minutes of silence, she said coolly, “We’ll let this matter drop, but there cannot be a next time.”

Ming Li nodded. “Understood.”

Most of the guests had arrived. The auspicious hour, calculated by a feng shui master, had finally come. Chun Liuyi, who had been welcoming guests at the door, moved inside as the lights on the main stage flared to life.

A professional MC began a long-winded speech of pleasantries. Throughout the introduction, Ming Li stood dutifully by Gu Xueqiang’s side.

Gu Xueqiang took the opportunity to give her a crash course on the inner workings of the Chunran Group. Since they were at a birthday banquet hosted by them, preparation was essential.

Ming Li had researched the company beforehand, but many details weren’t in the public record. Gu Xueqiang’s insights were more secretive and far more precise. They were worth more than any amount of data.

The Chunran Group had some business dealings with the Gu family, but not many; they were often competitors on certain projects.

Gu Xueqiang mentioned the current head of the Lu family. He was getting on in years, and his two legitimate sons were useless. He had one illegitimate son who was brilliant, leading to a fierce internal power struggle.

The birthday girl today was the Lu family’s youngest daughter, Lu Guixiao. She was the child of Old President Lu and an actress from the entertainment industry. It was rumored that the mother was only eighteen when she got pregnant. The industry had mocked them for years, and many female CEOs refused to do business with him out of spite.

Yet, he had managed to rebuild his image. The “devoted husband and loving father” persona was a card that never seemed to lose its value.

As Gu Xueqiang was explaining this, the MC announced: “Next, please welcome the birthday girl’s older sister, Lu Yi, who will perform a dance titled ‘Haze’ as a tribute to her little sister.”

From the phrasing to the program itself, everything felt off.

Even Gu Xueqiang’s expression soured. She muttered under her breath, “Lu Tingsong is truly subhuman.”

A moment later, the performer appeared on stage.

She stood under the spotlights wearing thin, sheer, gauze-like clothing. Beneath the translucent fabric, she wore only a bandeau and tight leggings. The “haze” of the outer layer served only to stir the imagination. Her face was beautiful and strikingly familiar—so familiar that Ming Li’s jaw nearly dropped.

The outfit wouldn’t have been out of place for a suggestive cabaret performance.

Most importantly, the person standing on stage was Chun Liuyi.

Ming Li was shocked and curious, but she didn’t dare ask Gu Xueqiang.

Gu Xueqiang had no intention of explaining. She simply lowered her voice and said, “Do not tell Shuangshuang about what happens tonight.”

“I’ve already seen it,” Gu Qingshuang’s voice suddenly appeared behind them. Her eyes were fixed squarely on the woman on stage.

Expecting her daughter’s reaction, Gu Xueqiang grabbed her wrist before she could move. “Shuangshuang, what do you think you’re doing?”

“Look at what the Lu family is making her do!” Gu Qingshuang hissed, wrenching her hand away with a fierce strength.

The dance had already begun. Gu Qingshuang marched through the crowd toward the stage. Gu Xueqiang barked, “Ming Li!”

Ming Li snapped into action, stepping forward to catch Gu Qingshuang.

On stage, Chun Liuyi was all smiles. Her movements were elegant, graceful, and composed.

But it didn’t stop the audience from looking at her with dirty minds.

Not far away, a pot-bellied man chuckled. “Lu Tingsong’s daughter is quite the star. With a body like that, playing with her must be a hell of a time.”

“She’ll probably be auctioned off tonight. Twenty million?”

“At least fifty million, I’d bet.”

“…”

Gu Qingshuang looked at Ming Li, her eyes cold. “Even you are going to stop me?”

Ming Li squeezed her eyes shut. Behind her was the oppressive weight of Gu Xueqiang’s gaze; before her was Gu Qingshuang’s fury and disappointment.

After a heartbeat, she asked Qingshuang, “Is she that important to you?”

Gu Qingshuang glanced at the stage but remained silent.

Based on Ming Li’s understanding of her, if the person weren’t important, Qingshuang would have denied it instantly. But she didn’t; instead, she looked conflicted in a way Ming Li couldn’t quite describe.

Ming Li offered a gentle, soothing smile. “It won’t end well for anyone if you go up there like that. Let me go instead.”

“You?” Gu Qingshuang was stunned. “What can you do?”

Ming Li patted her hand, then let go and strode toward the stage.

When she stepped onto the platform, the entire audience fell into a bewildered silence.

Soon, recognition dawned. This was Ming Li—a name that had once electrified Jing’an City.

It was said that years ago, she had performed a single dance at the “Spring Scenery Garden,” the most exclusive club in the city. That performance had made her famous overnight. In high society, everyone knew the Ming family had a daughter as beautiful as a celestial maiden.

Back then, the Ming family’s status was so high that no one could even get a word in with her. Over time, she became known as the legendary “Princess Ming.”

Standing beside the stage-hardened Chun Liuyi, Ming Li didn’t pale in comparison. Her evening gown wasn’t designed for dancing, yet she hit every beat perfectly, integrating herself into Chun Liuyi’s performance without stealing her spotlight.

Every glance, every smile, and every fluid movement was a masterclass in charm.

Below the stage, Gu Qingshuang was dazed. She had suddenly remembered—Ming Li was a trained classical dancer.