A sudden clap of thunder split the sky.  

It was Chairman’s right-hand man and secretary, Mai Xuwen, who woke Jiang Quyan up. “Boss said if you’re awake, go home and rest. No need to come in today. The press conference will be held after the funeral. No media interviews will be granted in the meantime.”

Jiang Quyan felt a little embarrassed to be caught sleeping in the boss’s office. Why hadn’t Guan Zhengying woken him up? And where was he?  

“The boss went to a meeting. There’s an emergency board meeting today,” Mai Xuwen explained politely.  

Jiang Quyan finally crawled off the sofa and checked the time. Since it wasn’t officially work hours yet, he quickly gathered his things and slipped out of the company to avoid being seen by more people.  

Instead of going straight home, he made a detour to a car dealership to pick out a new car. The boss had already told him to replace his car, so he wasn’t about to pass up such a rare perk.  

The Mercedes sales manager had already been briefed in advance and knew he was one of Guan Zhengying’s people, so he received him warmly.  

“The hottest model right now is definitely the W220,” the manager said as he led him to experience the car firsthand. “Since ’98, this has been the top choice for bosses. Five meters long—hardly any cars have this kind of length anymore. More refined and elegant than BMW or Audi. A 2.9-meter wheelbase with a full chrome trim. Look at the twin butterfly headlights—absolutely stunning. This is what you call a classic.”  

Sitting in the driver’s seat, Jiang Quyan felt more like a chauffeur than a VP. “Aren’t bosses supposed to sit in the back? I don’t have a driver. Driving myself feels kind of embarrassing.”  

“How could it be?” The manager only had compliments for him. “Bosses are getting younger and younger these days. It’s not like before. Those young bosses in New Territories tech companies? They all drive sports cars—so flashy.”  

“You got sports cars? Let me see.” Since he was getting a new car, he might as well go big. After all, it wasn’t his money.  

The manager led him to the sports car section. “Only one model is available in stock. The rest require pre-orders.” He pointed to a convertible in the showroom. “This one—the latest model, R230. Open the top, and it’s the perfect car for cruising with a girlfriend. A total babe magnet. Keep the top closed, and it’s a hardtop, just like a regular business car. This model looks a lot younger—suits you better.”  

Jiang Quyan was instantly captivated, unwilling to let go of the steering wheel.  

As the manager went over the car’s features, Luo Jiajun called him. “Got time for lunch?”  

“What are you up to now?” Jiang Quyan asked lazily, phone pinned between his shoulder and ear, while giving the manager an “OK” sign for the car.  

Luo Jiajun sounded mysterious. “Introducing you to a big shot.”  

A silver Mercedes-Benz sports car, adorned with the iconic three-pointed star, glided effortlessly to a stop in front of the hotel. Before the driver even stepped out, a brand-new car key was tossed to the hotel attendant. Then, emerging from the driver’s seat was a young man with long hair, sharp features, a slender waist, and tall stature. Standing beside the attendant, his legs looked impossibly long and straight—like a runway model.  

“Damn, did you win the lottery?” Luo Jiajun gawked as his friend got out of the car.  

Jiang Quyan winked. “Promotion gift. The boss gave it to me.”  

Luo Jiajun was shocked. “Wasn’t he always stingy with you?”  

Jiang Quyan scratched his head awkwardly. “You know the saying: ‘Promotion, wealth, and a wife’s death.’ He just hit two out of three. He’s in a good mood.”  

Luo Jiajun suddenly understood. “That means he’s really happy.”  

As they walked into the restaurant, Luo Jiajun reminded him, “Behave yourself. It took a lot to set up this meeting. Just give me some face, okay?”  

Jiang Quyan wasn’t new to these kinds of situations. “Who is it? Some big deal?”  

Their guest had already arrived. Luo Jiajun led him over. “Let me introduce you. This is Sussi Joeng, senior partner at New Bridge Capital. Sussi, this is Vincent Gong—Jiang Quyan.”  

Sussi Joeng handed him her business card with a polite smile. “I’ve heard a lot about you. They say the most stunning one at Fuzheng isn’t their top model—it’s their PR director. And now I see it’s true.”  

Jiang Quyan exchanged business cards and shook her hand. “Miss Yang, you could outshine our top models yourself.”  

“Just call me Sussi.” She got straight to the point. “Jiajun told me you guys want to start your own entertainment company?”  

That was the first time Jiang Quyan heard about it. He shot Luo Jiajun a surprised look.  

Luo Jiajun acted oblivious. “Fuzheng won’t promote him. He’s a veteran, has overseas experience, and after fifteen years, he’s still just a director. So, he’s looking for another path.” He patted Jiang Quyan’s shoulder. “You know this—Vincent’s launched several top models. His latest, Joanne, is a sensation. She just walked fifteen shows in Tokyo’s Spring Fashion Week. The guy’s got talent.”  

Sussi Joeng was well aware of Jiang Quyan’s credentials. “But being a great director doesn’t mean you’ll be a great boss.”  

Jiang Quyan completely agreed. “Excuse me, give us five minutes.”  

He dragged Luo Jiajun to a corner. “You’re serious about this?”  

Luo Jiajun nodded. “Of course. What did you think?” He was convinced this was a golden opportunity. “Come on, New Bridge Capital—major investors! If you get their Series A funding, you’ll be set for life.”  

“Set for what?” Jiang Quyan wanted to smack some sense into him. “VP isn’t ‘set’ enough for you?”  

Luo Jiajun was stunned. “Wait, not Assistant VP?”  

Jiang Quyan sighed and rubbed his temples. “I just found out yesterday. Didn’t get a chance to tell you yet.”  

Luo Jiajun immediately put the pieces together. “Wait… the old hag’s gone, and now Guan Zhengying wants to pursue you?”  

“The company’s full of young models. I’m ancient. You think he’d still be into me?” Jiang Quyan didn’t have time to explain further. He pointed at the elegant, business-savvy Sussi Joeng sitting at the table. “I don’t care about your capital plan. You figure out a way to smooth this over.”  

Luo Jiajun scoffed. “Smooth it over? How the hell do I do that?”  

Back at the table, Luo Jiajun wasted no time throwing his friend under the bus. “This guy—gets promoted and doesn’t even tell me. Shows up in a flashy sports car, and I thought he rented it just to impress. My apologies, Sussi, for wasting your time. Today’s meal is on him—order anything you like.”  

“Hey! Who’s the jerk here? You can take a beautiful woman out to eat, but I can’t drive a nice car?” Jiang Quyan protested.

Sussi laughed at their banter. Despite the mix-up, she remained composed and gracious. “So today’s actually a celebration dinner? Well, I’ll take it as a chance to share in the good fortune. Cheers!”

Luo Jiajun also raised his glass. “A toast to our Mr. VP—may you soar to great heights and have a bright future ahead!”

Jiang Quyan clinked glasses with them. “Thank you.”

“Wow, a direct promotion to VP? That’s quite the leap,” Sussi remarked. She herself had recently been promoted to senior partner. “I read Fuzheng’s annual report from last year—the results were impressive, especially in the entertainment sector. Overseas revenue now accounts for 30%, which is a staggering increase. Expanding abroad was definitely the right call. If I were your boss, I’d want to put you in charge too.”

Since he was already here, Jiang Quyan figured he might as well try to squeeze out some investment. “If you’re interested, Fuzheng is always open to investors.”

Sussi laughed. “See? That’s the perspective of a true VP—already thinking on a bigger scale.”

“I’m serious.” Jiang Quyan swirled his wine and arched an eyebrow with a charming smile. “You never know—our boss might spin off the entertainment division into its own company. Overseas operations are bound to expand, and if New Bridge gets in now with an equity investment, I can guarantee the returns will be just as good as those IT companies you back.”

Sussi blushed slightly at his smile but kept her tone professional. “I meet ten people, and nine of them talk a bigger game than you. Securing investments isn’t about sweet talk, Mr. VP. At least put together a business plan first.”

“No problem.” Jiang Quyan clinked glasses with her again. “Let’s set a time—I’ll invite you to visit Fuzheng.”

After lunch, Jiang Quyan took the opportunity to drive his brand-new sports car to drop the Senior Partner off at her office. Luo Jiajun, who was supposed to get a ride, gave him an internationally recognized rude gesture before storming off to take the subway.

Sussi chuckled. “I could’ve just walked back. It’s not that far. Now he’s going to say you’re heartless.”

Jiang Quyan was unfazed. “He’s a grown man—walking a bit is good for him. You, on the other hand, are wearing heels. You should walk less.”

“Your girlfriend must be so lucky to have such a gentlemanly boyfriend.” Sussi teased.

Jiang Quyan pressed the button to lower the convertible’s roof, letting the sleek Mercedes-Benz glide smoothly onto the road. “Do you think I have a girlfriend?”

Sussi pretended to be focused on the scenery outside. “Depends—do you want one?”

Jiang Quyan chuckled but didn’t continue the conversation.  

After dropping Sussi off, he drove back to Sham Shui Po. But after circling his apartment a few times, he realized that parking a brand-new Mercedes convertible in this neighborhood would be like walking into an underground casino with a plastic bag full of cash—basically an open invitation to get robbed. 

Not daring to leave the car there, he drove it back to the company and parked in the lot before taking the subway home. The entire ride, he wondered if he’d been out of his mind when he decided to buy the car in the first place.

….

Seven days later, Lin Zhifang’s funeral was held in Wan Chai.  

The ceremony was simple yet dignified, attended only by close friends and family from the Guan and Lin families. Since Lin Zhifang had been a devout Buddhist, the Guan family had invited monks to chant scriptures. Her memorial tablet had been blessed with cinnabar ink by the monks, and her husband, Guan Zhengying, wore plain mourning clothes, kneeling in front of the altar with their two children throughout the entire ceremony until the body was transported to the crematorium.

That evening, a light rain fell, adding to the lingering chill of spring. A heavy, misty fog hung over the city, making the black coffin and the white funeral drapes look even more somber and oppressive. The funeral procession moved forward, guided by the sound of Buddhist chants interspersed with quiet sobs. Suddenly, a gust of wind sent the bells on the prayer flags ringing—a sharp, eerie sound that echoed like a ghostly wail across the sea.

Jiang Quyan didn’t enter the crematorium. He stood outside, watching wisps of gray smoke curl up from the tall chimney.

A pair of polished black leather shoes approached him under the dim light.  

“I really don’t understand why my mother tolerated you.”  

Jiang Quyan smirked slightly. There were many things that not only this young master of the Guan family didn’t understand, but even he himself couldn’t fully grasp.

“You must be quite pleased with yourself now, huh?” Guan Zhanhong’s voice was filled with resentment. “My mother is gone—no one’s left to fight you anymore.”

Jiang Quyan knew that explaining wouldn’t change anything, so he didn’t bother. “Your mother always thought everyone was trying to steal from her—her man, her money, her power. But the truth is, she was the one who was always on edge, the one who slept the worst at night.”

Guan Zhanhong lowered his head, watching raindrops drip off the eaves and land on the tips of his leather shoes.

“But she was the one who married my father fair and square. She was the legitimate wife.” Guan Zhanhong’s voice tightened with anger. “Do you think my father will marry you? Do you really think he’d bring a man into our family? Can you even give him children?”

This was getting ridiculous. Jiang Quyan waved a hand dismissively, not interested in continuing the argument.

Guan Zhanhong suddenly grabbed his arm. He hesitated for a long moment before forcing out the words, “That day when I hit you… I was… wrong.”

The last two words were so soft they were barely audible—like the buzz of a mosquito. Jiang Quyan could easily imagine how his father must have pressured him into apologizing. But there had been no need—Jiang Quyan had never even seen Guan Zhanhong as a threat.

“You? Wrong?” Jiang Quyan’s voice was full of sarcasm. “How could the great young master ever be wrong? Please, don’t say such things—I might lose years off my life.”

Guan Zhanhong, clearly humiliated, clenched his fists. “You told my dad to exile me to a subsidiary company, didn’t you?”

Jiang Quyan responded with a question of his own. “If I say no, will you believe me?”

“I knew it—you’re nothing but a backstabbing traitor!” Guan Zhanhong was on the verge of breaking down. “You can’t do this to me! My mother is watching from heaven!”

These mother and son always had the same few lines, just in different variations. Jiang Quyan was already sick of hearing them. “Young Master, your father’s decisions weren’t even influenced by your mother, the legitimate wife—so how could I, an outsider, have any say? Or are you trying to say that your father is so incompetent that he doesn’t even care about the future of his only biological son, leaving his fate up to me? Maybe you should clear your head before coming to blame me.”

Guan Zhanhong, caught off guard by the logic, hesitated.

“So what you’re saying is…” He trailed off, still struggling to make sense of his father’s intentions.

Jiang Quyan didn’t even bother to hide his eye roll. “Even someone with elementary school education like me knows the saying, ‘When Heaven is about to confer a great responsibility on a person, it first tests their will with hardship.’ Your dad is testing you, training you—he’s making you suffer now to shape you. Do you think running a company is like being a hereditary emperor? If you don’t show results, how is your dad supposed to convince the board of directors?”

Guan Zhanhong’s eyes lit up. “Really? He…”  

Jiang Quyan nodded perfunctorily. “Really, really. If I’m lying, may your mother strike me with lightning right now. Happy?”  

Just as he finished speaking, a thunderclap split the sky. A bolt of lightning struck with a deafening roar, illuminating the night in a blinding flash.  

Guan Zhanhong turned to him in shock.

Jiang Quyan froze for two seconds before shamelessly continuing, “That wasn’t your mom! I said she should strike me, but look how far that lightning was! Clearly, it wasn’t for me. Probably some other immortal going through tribulation.”