Jin Yizhu pointed the sky lantern, and Wang Ruoling was even more unwilling to concede defeat. She immediately bid again.
Anyway, someone would foot the bill. This was the moment to indulge—when else could she do it again? Several rounds of bidding emerged in the venue one after another, and Wang Ruoling’s movements when raising her paddle began to hesitate.
“Dad, what are they trying to do?” Wang Ruoling lowered her voice. “They won’t really blow up the price of this lantern, will they?”
“Are you worried about Jin Yizhu?” Her dad chuckled, looking every bit like Maitreya Buddha. “I think she knows exactly what’s going on. You play enough and then stop, lest you really end up clashing with her.”
“What does she want to do?” Wang Ruoling symbolically raised her paddle once more and set down her number plate. “I genuinely think this necklace is pretty good.”
“Take a closer look at the person next to her. Their family recently hired someone as Tokyo agent—supposedly with quite the background.” Her dad shook his head, clearly harboring his own thoughts. “You young ones’ matters are for you to figure out yourselves.”
“I just can’t figure out why Grandma treats her so differently…”
A flicker of confusion crossed Wang Ruoling’s face as she glanced in that direction.
“She doesn’t even attend our family’s board meetings anymore, so why is she still meddling with their family?”
“Last generation’s affairs—you shouldn’t dwell on them.” Her dad’s smile turned bitter. “Your grandma and her maternal grandma were close; our two families’ shares overlap. You’d better stay wary of her.”
“I know that.” Wang Ruoling nodded. “After this ends, I’ll go apologize to them.”
Wang Ruoling refrained from further bidding. The others in the venue followed a few more rounds before it settled at a price that wasn’t outrageous.
The banquet had verified funds beforehand, freezing a portion as auction payment, so there was no concern about guests reneging. The staff brought down the hammer, and soon the necklace arrived in a velvet box, handed directly to Jin Yizhu.
They were always adept at reading the room and could tell Jin Yizhu had bought this necklace to gift to someone.
Jin Yizhu opened the box for a glance and handed it straight to Wei Shuyu, smiling. “For you.”
“Do you have to play it so cool?”
Wei Shuyu looked up, her gaze meeting Jin Yizhu’s. The smile tugging at her lips was impossible to hide.
“Why not just put it on me right now?”
“Can I?” Jin Yizhu asked. “I want to put it on you.”
Her voice was exceedingly soft, as if afraid of startling something—or of hearing an answer she didn’t want.
“Of course.”
Wei Shuyu turned slightly sideways, lifting her cascading long hair to bare her fair neck.
“Please.”
They sat in the middle section, where the lights focused on the front stage. By the time the glow reached them, only a soft, diffused light remained, lending the moment an already ambiguous air.
Not to mention how Wei Shuyu, heedless of those around her, turned sideways and lifted her hair, exposing her slender back fully to Jin Yizhu’s view.
It was practically declaring… our relationship runs deep.
Jin Yizhu’s heart raced. She couldn’t tell if the thrill from pointing the sky lantern still lingered in her fingertips or if she was simply captivated by the other woman’s tilted smile. She unclasped Wei Shuyu’s necklace and let it drop into the velvet jewelry box, then into her handbag.
The sapphire felt cool to the touch—like a drop of water cradled in Jin Yizhu’s fingertips.
She placed that drop of water against Wei Shuyu’s neck, staring openly. “It suits you perfectly.”
“Is it pretty?”
Wei Shuyu’s hand drifted upward to press her collarbone.
“Just suitable?”
The auction was now past its midpoint, and their necklace frenzy had whipped the crowd into a boil. The venue had grown listless, filled with chatter—not the hushed quiet of before.
Their words and movements didn’t stand out now.
Jin Yizhu paid no mind to the others. In that instant when Wei Shuyu turned toward her, nothing and no one else registered—only Wei Shuyu.
She simply watched Wei Shuyu, watched her hand on her collarbone, that drop of water glinting between her fingers.
“Very pretty.”
She tucked Wei Shuyu’s long hair behind her ear, her fingertip brushing the earlobe—hot to the touch.
“So it wasn’t my imagination.”
“What…” Wei Shuyu bit her lip, released it quickly, and said with feigned denial, “It is your imagination.”
“What are you even shy about?”
Jin Yizhu laughed softly, pressing her waist to signal her to sit up straight.
“Wei Shuyu, you’re cute to an excessive degree.”
Wei Shuyu ignored her. Her earlobe, already warm, now burned for real.
She lifted her gaze to the front, suddenly feigning keen interest in the auction—which only widened the irrepressible smile on Jin Yizhu’s lips.
Once the auction wrapped, came the cocktail reception Wei Shuyu loathed most.
People clutched wine glasses, engaging in performative chit-chat, swapping business cards, vaguely promising to connect later. It looked convivial and refined, but was merely a barter of resources and interests.
Yet this was also why Jin Yizhu had brought her.
No helping it. Wei Shuyu grabbed a glass of wine, downed it in one gulp, then took another to clutch as a prop for upcoming conversations.
Jin Yizhu spotted the move. “Why down a whole glass right off the bat?”
“How else am I supposed to work?” Wei Shuyu adjusted her facial expression. “I hate cocktail receptions most.”
Jin Yizhu paused, watching her shift from cool impatience to a perfectly measured smile. She grasped instantly what Wei Shuyu meant by “work.”
For Wei Shuyu, schmoozing these people was indistinguishable from a job—both loathsome necessities for survival.
“So exhibitions aren’t work for you, but everything else is?”
Jin Yizhu murmured, fingers tracing her wrist with uncertainty. “Want to take a break?”
“What I enjoy doesn’t count as work.” Wei Shuyu gave her a half-smile, slipping her hand free and tapping the necklace at her throat. “After taking such a pricey gift from you, how could I slack off?”
“Relax—I’m great at these scenes.”
She waved at Jin Yizhu. “A few familiar faces over there. I’ll go greet them first, introduce you later.”
Jin Yizhu nodded faintly and headed the other way. A handful of her trust-fund friends had shown up today; greetings were in order.
After circling through, only Wang Ruoling remained.
In all fairness, she and Wang Ruoling weren’t close—just their elders’ deep private friendship, plus Wang Ruoling’s recent bidding war with Wei Shuyu. She had little desire to see her now.
Wang Ruoling thought otherwise. The moment Jin Yizhu’s circle cleared, she approached.
“Jin Yizhu.” Wang Ruoling smiled. “Long time no see. Last time at Mid-Levels, too many people—didn’t get to chat properly.”
“Long time no see.” Jin Yizhu replied. “My maternal grandfather mentioned wanting to talk with you sometime, but no chance yet.”
Vapid pleasantries dragged on a few rounds until Wang Ruoling grew visibly restless.
She took the plunge, cutting straight to it with an apology. “Yizhu, about earlier—I’m truly sorry. I had no idea you were bidding on that necklace.”
Hearing her invoke the incident with that chummy address made Jin Yizhu frown.
“If I’d known it was you, I wouldn’t have bid.”
Wang Ruoling pressed her palms together, beaming.
“I really liked the necklace too—that’s why I bid.”
Jin Yizhu dropped her gaze to her. “What do you mean saying that now?”
It couldn’t be a genuine apology for future friendship.
Wang Ruoling might look cute and innocent, but as the Wang heir, she’d solidified her position in the Wang Group in mere months back home. No one bought the naive girl act.
“Just like the rumors—no mercy, no face given.”
Wang Ruoling touched her nose. That tack failing, she dropped the coquetry. “That woman earlier—is she the art director you scouted in Tokyo?”
“Yes.” Jin Yizhu owned it frankly. “What do you want?”
“With her credentials propping you up, things should be smooth… A necklace is the least you could do.”
Wang Ruoling eyed Wei Shuyu’s retreating figure with an ambiguous smile, voice dropping. “Her network—you planning to leverage it too? Lucky you. I’d love someone like that.”
“Wang Ruoling.”
Warning edged Jin Yizhu’s tone.
She followed Wang Ruoling’s line of sight to Wei Shuyu amid the crowd. Her silhouette was slim, the pure white gown tracing a delicate waist. An occasional head-turn and soft laugh sent hair spilling over her shoulder—magnetic.
What was Wang Ruoling on about now? Wanting someone like that?
Right here, ogling Wei Shuyu, spouting this drivel?
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing much.” Wang Ruoling licked her lip, smile teasing. “If it’s convenient, her pay package?”
“Not convenient.”
Jin Yizhu shut it down and turned away.
“Don’t even dream.”
“Of course not—I wouldn’t dare.” Wang Ruoling tittered. “Word is, she’s your canary stashed in Tokyo?”
Jin Yizhu halted. “Who said?”
Second time hearing it—from another unrelated source.
If Wang Ruoling knew, it had long circulated atop Mid-Levels.
“I couldn’t name names precisely. By the time it reached me, even our gardeners gossiped: Eldest Miss Jin keeps a canary overseas—no wonder the trips; their foreign ops must be for her.”
Wang Ruoling shed the jest, reciting verbatim, then probed: “Your vibe says she’s no canary.”
“Girlfriend, then?”
Same question, zero malice—just earnest inquiry. Jin Yizhu’s flare of anger extinguished under reason.
“Not quite there.” Her reply came cold, firm. “All that talk—you want my board vote?”
Ties ran deep between families. Wang Ruoling’s grandma held Lionheart shares; she had Wang Group stake via maternal grandma’s untouchable trust.
Wang Qianchun backed her for her own maternal grandfather’s sake. A few words to sway her allegiance?
“Right—Wang Group board. Stand with me?” Wang Ruoling grinned. “No one else for your vote anyway, yeah?”
“How do you know I don’t back others?” Jin Yizhu countered. “Wang Ruoling, support needs sincerity.”
“Plenty sincere.” She shrugged. “Guarantee: when Grandma can’t help, I’ll still pick you at Lionheart. Fair trade?”
“Plus a personal perk.”
Wang Ruoling stepped close, whispering with a laugh: “Love troubles with that miss? Confide in me.”
“No love story…”
Jin Yizhu reflexively denied it, a nameless void hitting on the words.
To fill it: “But feelings, yes.”
“Uh-huh, got it. Straight girls like you—duck-mouthed stubborn. I know.”
Wang Ruoling patted her shoulder twice, all besties-who-who, playfulness yielding to faint melancholy.
“Up on Mid-Levels, only I’d hear your lesbian romance tales. Don’t jinx it speaking early.”
She waved and drifted off.
Leaving Jin Yizhu in disarray.
Love…
Her and Wei Shuyu?
