money player

Zhen Guolong immediately flew into a rage, unleashing a string of profanities: "Have these sworn brothers lost their minds? They're so clumsy and reckless, daring to mess with those red-haired devils. Do they have a death wish?"

“Brother Lung, the superintendent I’m talking about is the new head constable at the Sham Shui Po Police Station. He’ll officially start his new job next week,” Sin Yiu-man added.

Zhen Guolong was taken aback at first, then his brows furrowed even more, his fierce expression instantly darkened, and he felt a bitter taste in his mouth. "Offending the new constable is a big problem."

"It's trouble, but it's also an opportunity. It all depends on what Brother Long does."

As soon as Xian Yaowu finished speaking, Su Lizhen got up to say goodbye and left the office with Guo Biwan.

The offices of Jinzhao Group were not far away, just a few steps from the street. Su Lizhen led Guo Biwan straight into her office.

Su Lizhen sat down in her executive chair, leaning slightly to the right. She pressed the red button on the tea table, and the kettle lid popped open. A moment later, the faucet above automatically started filling with water. Once the water stopped, she closed the lid, and the kettle immediately began to hiss as it boiled.

Looking at it with curiosity, Guo Biwan couldn't help but ask, "Mrs. Xian, what is this object?"

Su Lizhen's fingertips were still resting on the warm edge of the tea table as she smiled slightly: "My husband designed an automatic electric tea stove, which saves me the trouble of carrying the kettle and pouring water myself. It's very convenient."

Guo Biwan exclaimed in amazement, "I never imagined there were such exquisite things. It's truly an eye-opener. I never thought Mr. Xian would design something like this."

Su Lizhen nodded slightly, her gaze shifting to the plain old tin can beside her. The can, worn smooth by the passage of time, gleamed with a warm, silvery-white luster, and its seal was tight.

She gently twisted the lid of the can, and a refreshing and invigorating aroma of tea wafted out.

She gently twirled a few tea leaves between her fingertips and put them into the teapot, saying softly, "This is this year's new tea, picked before the rain. It has a delicate aroma and is not bitter. You'll know once you try it."

Guo Biwan sat to the side, her gaze unconsciously falling on Su Lizhen. Today, Su Lizhen was wearing a well-tailored light apricot-colored cheongsam. The fabric was smooth and flowing, neither too bright nor too garish. Only a few very pale orchids were embroidered on the collar, which made her look gentle and dignified.

Her hair was neatly combed and loosely tied back, revealing a section of her fair and slender neck. Even her ears were adorned with only a pair of delicate pearls, understated yet elegant.

She moved with composure in every gesture, lifting the lid and stirring the tea leaves with gentle, measured movements, as if she were born to be so refined and elegant.

Guo Biwan glanced down at her rather ordinary clothes, and then, recalling the other person's calm and composed demeanor, her heart sank inexplicably, and she felt a pang of self-consciousness.

Both being women, she seemed so calm and collected, while I always appeared awkward and shy, unable to compare to her in any way.

Guo Biwan thought to herself, she had long heard that Su Lizhen was just an ordinary woman in the past, but she did not know whether her outstanding demeanor was due to her innate talent or the nurturing she had received over the years.

She sighed softly to herself, thinking that she must have met a good man who cherished her and supported her, allowing her to live a stable and comfortable life, which cultivated such a good temperament.

Her thoughts drifted away, and the thought of boarding a plane to Taipei the next day to see the person she longed for filled her heart with sweet joy.

Su Lizhen put down the tin can, casually wiped her fingertips, and gently pressed on the can. With a soft click, the mechanism on the top of the can popped open, slowly unfolding like a flower petal, revealing several cigarettes neatly nestled inside.

"Mrs. Zhao, please have a cigarette." Su Lizhen gestured for her to have one, and then gently pushed the teapot-shaped lighter on the table in front of Guo Biwan.

Guo Biwan glanced at the teapot-shaped lighter, took a cigarette and put it between her lips. She picked up the lighter and fiddled with it for a while before realizing that the switch was actually the protrusion on the lid of the teapot.

She pressed down with her fingertip, and a slight friction sound came from the body of the pot. Then a cluster of pale blue flames shot out from the mouth of the pot.

She lit a cigarette and exclaimed in amazement, "This thing is so exquisite, it's made exactly like a real teapot."

"If Mrs. Zhao likes it, she can take one with her when she leaves."

Guo Biwan smiled and shook her head: "Thank you for your kindness, Mrs. Xian, but I just wanted something new. How could I possibly take away what someone else loves?"

"Mrs. Zhao, please don't be so polite. It's all made in our own factory. We can make as much as you want." Su Lizhen smiled faintly, her tone casual, yet exuding a confidence that others couldn't easily emulate.

Guo Biwan was slightly surprised upon hearing this, "Mrs. Xian even owns a factory that makes lighters?"

“I acquired a small smoking accessory factory by taking over a debt from someone else. After some minor restructuring, it now specializes in making gift lighters and sells them directly to the United States.”

Guo Biwan took a drag of her cigarette, her tone both curious and tactful: "If I may ask, how are the sales?"

“It’s alright.” Su Lizhen’s expression was calm, but her tone was very steady: “Americans have a habit of exchanging gifts when they visit each other. I supply goods to American department stores, and I just signed an order for a Statue of Liberty design a couple of days ago.”

Guo Biwan's eyes lit up upon hearing this, and she sincerely praised, "Mrs. Xian is truly capable. Such vision and demeanor are unmatched by ordinary men."

Su Lizhen smiled faintly and waved her hand gently: "It's just making a living. I've had some good luck and the master's guidance. I'm not that capable."

Guo Biwan smiled knowingly and nodded, "Mrs. Sin has Mr. Sin backing her up, it's truly enviable."

Su Lizhen raised her eyes, gave Guo Biwan a meaningful look, and said softly, "Mrs. Zhao, there's no need to be envious. Don't you have people backing you up too?"

Guo Biwan's heart tightened suddenly, but her face remained calm. She smiled faintly and said, "Mrs. Xian is joking. I am just an ordinary woman. Who would support me?"

“There will be.” Su Lizhen added casually, opening the pastry box on the table and gently changing the subject, “Mrs. Zhao, try these cookies, they’re from Denmark.”

Guo Biwan picked up a cookie with her fingertips, looked up at Su Lizhen, and said in a calm but undeniably firm tone: "Mrs. Xian, I have about 100,000 yuan and I want to start a thermos factory. Where do you think would be a good location for the factory?"

Su Lizhen's gaze lingered on Guo Biwan's face for a moment, as if weighing the weight of her words, before she slowly spoke, her voice low but each word clear: "It's good that Mrs. Zhao has such ambition. Thermos bottles are a basic necessity, and they sell well in Southeast Asia and Hong Kong. Starting at around 100,000, that's not a small amount."

She paused, tapped her fingertips lightly on the table, and gave the most practical advice: "In my opinion, To Kwa Wan is the most suitable."

Why?

Su Lizhen smiled gently, a hint of understanding flashing in her eyes, and said slowly, "Instead of asking me this question, Mrs. Zhao should go back and ask Mr. Zhao. Isn't Zhao's restaurant located in To Kwa Wan?"

"Mrs. Xian, to be honest, that's precisely why I don't feel comfortable asking my husband."

Hearing this, Su Lizhen's smile faded a little, but she appeared even more sincere. She said in a steady tone, "In the To Kwa Wan area, most of the factories are owned by industrialists who moved here from Shanghai and Guangzhou. They have a lot of connections and networks."

"If Zhao Tai really wants to start a factory, I can introduce you to some old friends who make enamelware and glass liners. I can help you with raw materials and sales channels."

As she spoke, she looked up at Guo Biwan, her gaze deepening with meaning, and slowly said, word by word, "Running a factory is not like running a small business; the waters run deep. Only with someone backing you up can you go far."

Guo Biwan's fingertips tightened slightly, and the cookie almost broke between her fingers. She composed herself and smiled gently, "I am extremely grateful to Mrs. Xian for her kindness."

Su Lizhen smiled slightly: "Mrs. Zhao, there's no need to be so polite. When we're out doing business, we should look out for each other. This afternoon, I'm going to Gaosheng Tea House to attend a tea party for the plastics industry. We'll all be discussing sales needs in the West and Southeast Asia. If you have time, Mrs. Zhao, you might as well come along and listen."

Guo Biwan was more than willing. She had heard that Su Lizhen was very influential in Hong Kong's business circles, especially in the Western and Southeast Asian trade circles. This tea party was by no means an ordinary social gathering.

She immediately stood up and bowed slightly, her tone filled with genuine joy: "I am more than happy to have Mrs. Sin's recommendation. I will definitely be at Ko Shing Tea House on time this afternoon and will not dare to delay."

Su Lizhen waved her hand, "In that case, Mrs. Zhao, don't rush back. Stay here for a simple meal and rest for a while. We'll go together this afternoon, so you won't have to travel back and forth."

"That would be too much trouble for Madam Xian. I will respectfully accept your offer."

……

Sin Yiu-man offered a few words of encouragement to Wen Po-yuen, the manager of HK Consulting’s Taipei branch, before leaving the office, getting into his waiting car on the street, picking up a newspaper and slowly flipping through it to pass the time.

Around noon, Xie Tingyun slowly started the car, moved it forward a few inches, and parked it steadily in front of White Company.

Qiong was already waiting on the side. As soon as the car came to a stop, she quickly stepped forward, opened the door, and nimbly climbed in.

Before she could even settle down, she had already wrapped her arms around Sin Yiu-man's neck, tilted her head slightly, and offered him a soft, tender kiss tinged with dependence.

After their intimate moment, her cheeks were slightly flushed, and she asked softly, "Where shall we go for dinner?"

“Lafayette. I already instructed them yesterday to prepare the ingredients in advance, to make cream of asparagus soup, veal stew in white sauce, and steamed mashed potatoes with butter.”

"Where's dessert?" Joan leaned gently against his shoulder, her voice as soft as freshly melted cream.

"Apple puree or vanilla custard."

"These are all my favorite foods, Go, Go, Go."

"Ha~, let's go."

Once a woman's certain switches are turned on, they are hard to turn off again. Who would have thought that a calm and rational engineer like Joan, who could stay up all night working on blueprints and data, would also suffer from love-struck syndrome, and in such severe form?

Mealtimes lasted a third longer than usual. Most of the time was spent not eating, but huddled together whispering. An occasional glance or a kiss would turn what should have been a quick and easy meal into a tender and lengthy affair.

After the meal, on the way back to Qiong's office, the two were inseparable, and they kept kissing each other.

In the afternoon, the afternoon sun shone through the blinds of the Prince Enterprises office, casting dappled shadows on the dark executive desk.

Sin Yiu-man sat upright at his desk, his fingertips brushing over the meeting minutes and work reports that Song Cheng-xiu had brought him. The handwriting on the paper was neat and clear, listing all the recent business dealings and operational details.

He intently flipped through the pages, sometimes raising his hand to mark key points, sometimes lightly tapping the table with his fingertips, sorting out the business operations. After a moment, he picked up his pen and began to draft the first formal "Business Report" for Michelle.

With each stroke of the pen, every word was carefully considered, reflecting both an objective summary of past operations and a consideration for future development. The only sound in the office was the scratching of the pen across the paper, making the afternoon even more tranquil.

Prince Enterprise's existing businesses will be sorted out into sustainable and unsustainable categories, and the spin-off and restructuring work is planned to be launched gradually in two years: core high-quality assets will be injected into a newly established entity, non-core assets will be integrated and shareholders will be absorbed, thereby building a listing structure.

According to his plan, Prince Enterprise will list on the US OTC (over-the-counter) market in the form of ADRs (American Depositary Receipts), taking advantage of the wave of US aid to reap huge capital dividends.

The idea is easy to conceive, but difficult to implement. If we want to reap greater capital gains, it is indeed necessary to establish the Taiwan Stock Exchange as soon as possible. However, Taiwan does not yet meet the conditions for opening a market; we must wait for the land reform to release sufficient positive effects before the time is truly ripe.

Hopefully, the Shanghai gang that used to speculate in stocks won't have fallen by then, otherwise, without a lot of "leeks" (new investors) to take advantage of, things will be difficult. Also, Chiang Kai-shek was exploited when he was young, and we don't know if he's been scared out of his wits by the stock market.

Hopefully, the Shanghai group of stock market veterans will still be around by then; otherwise, without these retail investors to feed, relying solely on new retail investors will ultimately be insufficient to sustain the market. Furthermore, Lao Jiang suffered a major setback in the stock market in his early years, and it's unknown whether he's been burned too many times and harbors a deep-seated fear of the capital market.

While secretly making plans, Xian Yaowen had already sketched out the general framework of the subsequent layout in his mind.

Song Chengxiu's official position is Long Xuemei's special assistant, and her office is right next to Long Xuemei's. During working hours, unless she has to go out, she usually works in her own office.

When Sin Yiu-man came over, he went straight to her executive chair, so she had no choice but to sit on the guest chair, handling her daily affairs while assisting him.

Although Song Chengxiu was recruited by Xian Yaowen, the two did not actually spend much time together. Her understanding of this boss mostly came from Long Xuemei's usual mentions.

At this moment, there were documents spread out in front of her, but the pen tip did not fall for a long time.

Xian Yaowen leaned forward slightly as he flipped through the documents. His profile was sharp, and when he frowned slightly, he exuded an undeniable composure. Song Chengxiu took the opportunity while tidying up the papers to quickly glance at him.

Sunlight streamed through the blinds, casting a soft halo around his shoulders and making even the stray hairs falling across his forehead clearly visible. Just as he lightly tapped the table with his fingertips, as if about to turn his head, she hurriedly lowered her head again, pretending to focus on checking the data, but her heart inexplicably skipped a beat.

"Check the numbers in this document again."

Sin Yiu-man suddenly spoke, his voice not loud, but it made her heart skip a beat, and her fingers gripping the pen tightened almost imperceptibly.

Despite being in the same office, she could only secretly observe this big boss, whom she had only heard of but rarely seen, from a distance that was neither too close nor too far.

Song Chengxiu quickly replied "Okay," then gently tapped the paper twice with her fingertips while holding the pen before forcing herself to focus her attention back on the document.

But the impression from that one glance was too deep, and the faint scent of fir mixed with ink wafted from him, making it hard to concentrate.

She tried to appear calm as she flipped through the documents, but her peripheral vision kept drifting towards the executive chair.

Xian Yaowen seemed oblivious to her odd behavior, continuing to peruse the documents in his hands with his eyes lowered. His slender fingers occasionally turned a page, his movements steady and efficient. Sunlight cast a soft shadow on his profile, making even the taut curve of his jawline appear exceptionally pronounced.

The only sound in the office was the soft rustling of papers turning, so quiet that you could hear each other's shallow breathing.

Song Chengxiu's palms were slightly damp as he held the pen. Although it was just an ordinary office scene, the air inexplicably felt thicker.

She took a deep breath, forced herself to look away, and checked the numbers word by word, but the inexplicable panic in her heart lingered.

She wasn't unaware of the source of this panic, but she simply didn't want to think about it deeply.

She has a fiancé, Zhao Jiade, her childhood sweetheart, who is gentle, considerate, and knows her well. She knows clearly that she loves him.

But love is never a shackle; it doesn't prevent her from appreciating the beautiful things in the world, nor can it stop her from developing an unconscious fondness for another outstanding man.

Just like now, facing the natural composure and sharpness of Sin Yiu-man, she couldn't deny that she did feel a bit of admiration, or even a bit of liking that she herself was unwilling to admit.

This feeling was so subtle that she only dared to hide it in the most secret corner of her heart, not daring to let anyone notice it, much less compare it to her love for Zhao Jiade.

She gently bit her lower lip, suppressing those inappropriate thoughts, and with a firm press of her fingertips, finally left a clear check mark on the document. However, the blush on her earlobes lingered for a long time.

"All checked?"

After a long while, Sin Yiu-man's voice rang out again, breaking the silence of the office. He did not look up, his fingertips still resting on a certain page of the document, his tone so flat that no emotion could be discerned.

Song Chengxiu quickly responded, and as she stood up, a slight breeze stirred up her. Clutching the documents, she strode to the executive chair, deliberately maintaining a polite distance, and said softly, "Sir, I've checked it. However, there are two discrepancies between the figures and the information you have here. One is the revenue data on the third page, which is three thousand less, and the other is the cost calculation on the fifth page, which is five hundred more."

She spoke softly, her gaze fixed on the documents, not daring to look into Xian Yaowen's eyes, but she could clearly feel his gaze shift from the documents to the pages in her hands.

Xian Yaowen looked up, glancing at the two places she was pointing to. He raised an eyebrow, reached out and took the document. His fingertips inadvertently brushed against her fingertips, and the warm touch sent a jolt through Song Chengxiu's fingertips like an electric current, causing her to abruptly pull her hand back, her fingertips curling slightly.

"Yes, the accountant made a mistake." He said calmly, circling the incorrect number lightly with his fingertip, his tone completely flat. "Write the correct number next to it, and send me a revised copy."

"Okay, sir."

Song Chengxiu nodded hurriedly and took the document. Her gaze quickly swept across his profile, and she happened to meet his eyes. His eyes were deep and steady, with a hint of inquiry. She was so frightened that she immediately lowered her head, hugged the document, and walked back to the guest chair. Her heart began to pound uncontrollably again.

She sat in the chair, pen in hand, but hesitated to put it down for a long time. The feeling of their fingers touching was still there, and his voice echoed in her ears. Even the act of changing numbers became somewhat clumsy.

Sin Yiu-man remained seated in her executive chair, as if the brief touch just moments before was merely her illusion. Only the two wrong characters circled by his fingertips proved that the brief encounter had truly occurred.

Sin Yiu-man lowered his eyes, his fingertips tracing the circled erroneous numbers on the document, but his eyes showed little emotion, his mind already drifting back to the subtle details from earlier.

He certainly noticed Song Chengxiu's unusual behavior. From the moment he entered and took her chair, he noticed the gaze that lingered on him, both evasive and unable to resist, the stiffness and retreat she showed when their fingertips touched as he handed her the documents, and the barely concealed blush on her earlobes. None of these things escaped his notice.

His fingertips caressed the nib of the pen, and his eyebrows twitched almost imperceptibly. He had seen countless people and was very perceptive. He could clearly see the panic and admiration in Song Chengxiu's eyes. It was not the awe of a subordinate to a superior, but rather a touch of shyness in a young girl's heart, subtle yet genuine.

Song Seung-soo is a prospective high-ranking official in the training phase, and she absolutely cannot be love-struck. She can like other men besides Jo Ga-de, even to the point of love. She can admire him, but she absolutely cannot develop feelings for him.

Observe her first. If things go wrong, give her a break, buy her a plane ticket and send her to New York to spend a few days with Zhao Jiade. If she is still unrepentant when she comes back, then we can only implement Plan B - arrange a lover for her.

If you still can't get along well sleeping in two beds, you'll have to optimize the situation.

He still liked Lu Yansu's views on love; she was skilled at using charm on men, but her defenses were strong enough to prevent any major mistakes. The only drawback was her slightly sadistic and perverse psychology. Like last time, she wouldn't just wipe his buttocks once; who knew when she might develop an anal fistula, making it difficult to clean properly.

Shake your head, refocus on the report, and put more effort into making it look good.

His friendship with Michelle was built on the premise that he could bring her benefits and unlimited possibilities. He cherished this friendship and the "model home," so naturally he wanted to do things well.

Time flies when you're focused on your work, and before you know it, it's afternoon tea time.

Xian Yaowen put down his pen, gently moved his slightly swollen left hand, and casually instructed, "Go to Welfare Bread and buy a small cake, then go to the American Flower Shop and buy a bouquet of pink roses, with some freesias as embellishments, and deliver them to White Company and give them to Joan Charlotte."

Song Chengxiu paused, placing the pen steadily on the document. His face showed no sign of emotion. He simply stood up, nodded slightly, and said crisply and appropriately, "Yes, sir, I'll go right away."

"By the way, ask Amei what she'd like to eat."

"Yes."

After Song Chengxiu left, Xian Yaowen tidied up his desk, put the unfinished report into his briefcase, left the office, went to a street stall with a sign for braised pork rice, ate a bowl of braised pork rice, and then bought a bowl of soy milk to go with it.

Seeing that they were selling dragon fat pig's blood, they bought a bowl and paired it with stinky tofu, asking Xie Tingyun to deliver it to Quan Danru.

After Song Chengxiu left, Xian Yaowen slowly tidied up his desk, put the unfinished report into his briefcase, and also got up and left the office.

He walked to the street and saw a popular food stall with a sign that read "Braised Pork Rice," so he sat down and ordered a bowl of braised pork rice. The large chunks of pork belly were stewed until tender and flavorful, and the sauce was savory and fragrant. He ate it cleanly with the white rice, and finally got a bowl of warm soy milk from the stall next door to soothe his stomach.

As he was getting up, he noticed a stall nearby selling dragon's blood and Changsha stinky tofu, the aroma filling the air. After a moment's thought, he bought one of each, extra spicy, and instructed the stall owner to pack them up so Xie Tingyun could deliver them to Quan Danru.

The family's meals were always bland. Although he had told the girl before that if she craved spicy food, she could ask her third sister to cook something stronger, she was never one to take advantage of being spoiled. Even if she had that privilege, she used it with great restraint. After a while, her mouth must have been so bland.

Back in his office, he continued writing the report. He wrote until it was time to leave work, but the manuscript was still unfinished. Even if he stayed to work overtime, he knew he wouldn't finish it that night. So he gave up, left on time, packed his things neatly, and went home.

Logically, he should have taken the opportunity to invite Joan to dinner and strike while the iron was hot to get closer. But he couldn't give Joan too high expectations; a relationship doesn't need to burn too brightly, and a romance certainly doesn't need to be too passionate.

When Xian Yaowen returned to the Xian residence, he saw Fei Baoqi sitting in the pavilion. The evening breeze carried the faint fragrance of osmanthus from the corner of the pavilion, fluttering her clothes. Beside her was a cup of cool tea, and she was gazing at the orchid potted plant in the courtyard, which made the quiet residence even more gentle.

He walked over, sat down next to her, and without saying much, took out a harmonica from his briefcase.

He brought the harmonica to his lips, his breath slowly releasing it, and a soft, gentle melody of Canon spread through the twilight. The melody was clean and restrained, neither flamboyant nor intense, like the light and shadow quietly falling in a courtyard, gently swirling in the pavilion.

He played the flute gently and steadily, without any deliberate attempt to evoke emotion, letting the repetitive and progressive melody, accompanied by the fragrance of flowers, fall into the ears of the person beside him.

Fei Baoqi sat quietly, without turning around or speaking. The evening breeze stirred a few strands of slightly gray hair at her temples. Her eyes were lowered, and her fingertips lightly rested on the stone table, tapping out a very soft and slow rhythm to the continuous, melodious tune.

Her face showed no obvious joy, nor a trace of resentment, only a gentle and calm demeanor, as if the familiar melody had gently stirred up many old memories buried deep in her heart.

As the song drew to a close, she slowly turned her head, her gaze falling on his hands holding the harmonica, her voice as soft as the fragrance of osmanthus in the twilight: "She's starting to cause trouble."

The harmonica music from Xian Yaowen's lips slowly stopped. He casually placed the harmonica on the stone table, tapped the edge of the table lightly with his fingertips, and said calmly, without revealing his emotions: "Let her cause trouble if she wants to. If she goes too far, I'll watch. If she goes too far, I'll slap her to death."

"What is excessive, and what is not excessive?"

"If it allows you to watch the show peacefully, then it's not excessive; if it makes you unhappy, then it's excessive." As Xian Yaowen spoke, he raised his hand to gently brush away the white hair at Fei Baoqi's temple. His tone was casual, yet it revealed an undeniable certainty. "When you're a person, don't get stuck in a rut, don't waste your energy on yourself, and vent your anger."

"How should I do it?" Fei Baoqi asked softly, her tone tinged with helplessness. "I don't want to be a shrew."

  Xian Yaowen chuckled softly, gently withdrawing his fingertips from her temple, his tone casual yet clear: "Taking a tantrum isn't about throwing a tantrum. If you're unhappy, just say so. If you don't like someone, deal with them. If you have the means, use them; if you don't, just endure it. Don't wrong yourself, and don't lose face. That's what skill is."

Fei Baoqi sighed softly, her gaze falling on the osmanthus leaves swaying in the wind outside the pavilion. Her voice was gentle yet carried a hint of understanding: "I understand the reasoning, but I'm getting old and I'm too lazy to argue with people about those things anymore."

Upon hearing this, Xian Yaowen chuckled and casually leaned against the stone railing. The twilight seeped into his eyes, and his languid demeanor was shrouded in a cold and imposing aura: "I'm too lazy to argue, not because I'm swallowing my pride, but because I disdain such petty squabbles. If she really crosses my line, there's no need to argue or make a scene. One move will be enough to prevent her from stirring up any more trouble. Why bother with the act of a shrew?"

His gaze fell on the white hair at Fei Baoqi's temples, and his tone became a little deeper, "Sister, you don't need to be hypocritical in front of me. I remember how many white hairs you had before, and there are a few more today."

Upon hearing this, Fei Baoqi gently rested her head on Xian Yaowen's shoulder, her voice slightly hoarse, with a hint of softness as she let her guard down: "Yaowen, only you still care about these little things. He can't see them anymore."

Sin Yiu-man's shoulders slumped slightly as he let her lean on him. He raised his hand and gently took her arm in his, his voice low and steady: "Brother-in-law can't see, but I can. We'll call a mahjong partner to take your place later. After dinner, we'll find a place where my sister can properly absorb yang energy."

Fei Baoqi's warm breath brushed against his neck as she asked, half-jokingly and half-melancholy, "Then... if we're closer and more comfortable, will it reduce the number of gray hairs?"

"Yes." Xian Yaowen tightened his arms slightly, gently pulling the person into his embrace. His voice was deep and chuckled, yet also carried a touch of tender certainty: "If you can be more at ease and worry less in the future, your white hair will naturally stop growing."

"Mmm." Fei Baoqi responded softly, snuggling closer to him, her nose brushing against his collar, her voice so soft it almost blended into the twilight: "Then I'll lean on you and enjoy a few more comfortable days."

Sin Yiu-man picked up his harmonica again, brought it to his lips, and gently blew. The melody of "Forever With You" flowed slowly in the twilight. The tone was warm and mellow, without a trace of sharpness, only peace and gentleness, like an evening breeze carrying the fragrance of osmanthus, gently caressing the softest part of the heart.

Fei Baoqi still rested her head on his shoulder, listening quietly with her eyes closed. The corners of her mouth unconsciously curved slightly, and all the weariness and bitterness in her heart slowly melted away in the long melody.

The long, drawn-out harmonica music drifted into the living room, drawing Madam Lan out. She stood in the entryway, leaning against the doorframe, a cigarette between her fingers. As the embers flickered, her gaze fell heavily on the two people leaning against each other in the pavilion. There was no surprise, only a hint of understanding; she had long since seen through this shameful affair that could not be brought to light.

He saw through it all, and Xian Yaowen didn't care at all. Since he dared to be so intimate with Fei Baoqi in his own courtyard, he had naturally weighed the pros and cons and made up his mind.

After the song ended, the lingering sound still echoed between the beams and pillars of the pavilion. Xian Yaowen put down his harmonica, moved to sit opposite Fei Baoqi, his gaze so tender it could drown water, and lowered his voice to whisper sweet nothings to her.

Just before dinner, Huo Zhixian returned from outside. Her outfit was noticeably more mature, less youthful and more deliberately feigned gentleness and composure. As soon as she entered, her gaze fell on the pavilion.

The Xian family members couldn't sit idly by, and their prospective marriage partner was no exception. Besides participating in the funding program, Xian Yaowen also gave her the responsibility of "Manchu financing," making her the liaison and responsible for contacting Tang Shunjun. (End of Chapter)