Chapter 82: The Blind Date

Jinsheng Tower in Shanghai.

Today, Fang Yujia abandoned her usual plain style and donned an elegant beige, British-inspired long dress. Her naturally wavy chestnut hair cascaded down, enhancing her innate beauty. With such a simple adornment, she was even more radiant and striking.

Her figure was exquisite, and the long, fitted dress highlighted her curves, making her presence remarkably eye-catching. Although she couldn’t quite rival Ning Jingzhe’s bold and overwhelming allure, she was still impossible to overlook. Her waist was slender enough to be encircled with a single hand, and beneath the hem of her skirt, a glimpse of pale, smooth calf was revealed. On her feet were a pair of delicate, pure white block-heeled shoes, further accentuating her noble air.

At twenty-three, she was in the prime of her youth. With this simple transformation, she exuded a vibrant energy; the cold elegance that usually defined her was now tinged with softness. The coexistence of these contradictory qualities—gentle and icy—was a rare and captivating combination.

She had never cared about her appearance before. Yet lately, for reasons unknown even to herself, she suddenly felt compelled to dress up. As someone who believed in the unity of the microscopic world, she saw the universe as a collection of countless particles, herself included, and so beauty and ugliness had no essential difference. This impulse for self-adornment was truly extraordinary.

Why she felt this urge was a mystery—perhaps she had been influenced by the sight of Zhuo Qinglian in her flamboyant attire that day. Who could say?

If Xiao Cheng were here to witness Fang Yujia in such a getup, he would surely marvel at whether the sun had risen in the west today. His sister-in-law, who always regarded beauty as nothing but dirt, was now wearing a dress and heels—more than that, she had even applied a touch of makeup.

Even on her wedding day, she had only worn a wedding gown for form’s sake, without high heels. Compared to her former self, Fang Yujia was now almost unrecognizable.

She sat in her chair, supporting her head with both hands, eyes narrowed, fingers constantly massaging her temples, her face full of exhaustion.

She had been extremely busy lately. After Xiao Guowei’s death, she made a series of bold moves—cutting away Xiao Guowei’s loyalists, promoting capable employees to key departments, attracting investment, and expanding pharmaceutical sales. She now had complete control of Shanghai Xiao Pharmaceuticals.

These tasks sounded simple in a few sentences, but in reality, they were enormously complicated.

Fortunately, she had a master’s in finance and was well-versed in such matters, so they didn’t pose much trouble for her.

Busy as she was, and though she was indeed tired, her spirits remained high. Seeing the company flourish under her management gave her a deep sense of accomplishment.

With the company’s fortunes reversed, she grew ever more grateful to her brother-in-law. If not for his decisive actions in eliminating Xiao Guowei, she would not have been able to rid the enterprise of its malignant elements so easily—she might even have lost her life.

Thinking of Xiao Cheng, she broke into a rare, gentle smile. Without a doubt, Xiao Cheng now held an unparalleled place in her heart. She often asked herself: was there anyone else who could do what her brother-in-law had done? Would anyone else be willing to risk their life to protect her?

To risk one’s life for her—though it sounded melodramatic, it was an undeniable fact. Even her parents might not be able to do the same.

By comparison, Xiao Cheng became ever more important to her. As for the recent matter when Ning Jingzhe found a hole in Xiao Cheng’s room, at first she thought Xiao Cheng had meant to spy on her. But deep down, she didn’t believe it. Xiao Cheng had risked his life for her; would he stoop to such vulgarity? Of course not!

After Ning Jingzhe left, she inspected the hole carefully and found evidence of repairs below. The marks together formed the outline of a person. According to Ning Jingzhe, the old man had come to the villa last month to catch Xiao Cheng but failed. That human-shaped hollow was likely where Xiao Cheng had hidden, not a peeping hole.

“Ah! I wonder if his gunshot wound has healed yet?” Fang Yujia sighed, murmuring to herself.

It had been more than ten days since Xiao Cheng was shot. Normally, the wound wouldn’t be healed yet. Whenever she thought of a bullet tearing into flesh, she shuddered at the pain, the suffering, and the countless damaged cells.

Since Xiao Cheng left, she had been troubled by his refusal to let her care for him—not out of dissatisfaction with him, but guilt toward herself. Xiao Cheng would rather trust an outsider than her. It was her own failing; she had never truly faced Xiao Cheng, always doubting and disliking him.

But that was all in the past. She would do better from now on...

Lost in these trivial thoughts, she suddenly heard a knock at the door. Fang Yujia raised her head, instantly regaining her composure. “Come in!” she called.

A young man in professional attire entered, head bowed, not daring to meet her gaze.

“Xiao Zhao, is there something you need?” Fang Yujia asked calmly.

“Director Fang, there’s a lady downstairs who claims to be your mother. Are you available to see her?”

Fang Yujia frowned. She hadn’t heard her mother was coming to Shanghai; her mother rarely left Beijing. When had she arrived in Shanghai?

She quickly opened her computer and accessed the lounge’s surveillance feed, only to find her mother, Zhang Lan, sitting there. Fang Yujia was puzzled: since her mother was in Shanghai, why hadn’t she notified her—what could be the reason for coming straight to the company?

“Alright, Xiao Zhao, please bring my mother up. Wait, no, I’ll go down myself,” she decided, thinking it might be inappropriate for her mother to come up.

Arriving at the lounge, Fang Yujia saw Zhang Lan chatting energetically with a young man in his twenties. Zhang Lan’s demeanor was so enthusiastic, she seemed ready to adopt the young man on the spot.

The young man’s appearance was unremarkable, and his attire added nothing, but he radiated a steady, serious aura. He spoke to Zhang Lan half-heartedly, responding with monosyllabic sounds. Zhang Lan seemed oblivious, endlessly praising her daughter, even making crude remarks about her fertility.

Watching through one-way glass, Fang Yujia was initially delighted to see her mother after so long, but after hearing those words, her face grew dark.

“Mom, when did you arrive?” Fang Yujia couldn’t help herself. If her mother kept going, she might even announce her bust and hip measurements. She stepped out to greet them.

Today, Fang Yujia was especially well-dressed, even more charming than before.

The young man, at first amused by Zhang Lan’s over-the-top compliments, thought to himself that with Zhang Lan’s looks, Fang Yujia was probably nothing special. But when he suddenly saw Fang Yujia, he was stunned—his breath quickened. He hadn’t expected her to be so breathtakingly beautiful. More importantly, her unique aura—a blend of cold pride and gentle allure—was something he had never encountered.

Zhang Lan didn’t answer her daughter’s question but instead introduced Fang Yujia to the young man as if presenting a treasure. “Look, this is my daughter Yujia. Isn’t she beautiful? And just look at her figure! I’m not boasting, but back in Beijing, my daughter was known as the leading beauty among the Four Great Beauties.”

Hearing this, Fang Yujia’s face turned icy. For her own mother to describe her this way—as if she were a commodity or a courtesan—even her usually excellent composure couldn’t suppress a flicker of anger.

“Pleasure to meet you!” The young man, not waiting for Zhang Lan to continue, stood up with a broad smile and extended his hand for a handshake.

Fang Yujia glanced at his hand but made no move. Not only did she have a touch of germophobia, but even without it, she would never shake hands with a stranger under these circumstances.

Even if she were naive, she could tell that her mother had come to Shanghai to introduce her to this young man—essentially a matchmaking meeting.

The young man, seeing Fang Yujia unmoved, felt awkward. He understood that beautiful women often had a temper, but Fang Yujia was a widow; if not for his family’s recognition of the Fang family’s status and political influence, he would never accept “second-hand goods.”

No matter how beautiful, a woman used by another was just that—how could she still pretend to be so lofty?

Of course, though he thought this, he didn’t let it show. He clasped his hands and smiled, “Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Chu Jinghui.”

“So, your name is Chu Jinghui?” Fang Yujia smiled and suddenly raised her voice. “Where are the security guards? Please escort this man out—he’s not welcome here!”

She couldn’t bring herself to vent her anger at her mother, but she had no such mercy for Chu Jinghui. Jinsheng Tower was her domain, after all.

——