Chapter 37.1

◎ Playing Golf ◎

Early Sunday morning, Fan Qi was practically being pestered to death by Chen Zhiqian. He insisted she go play golf with him—at seven in the morning, no less! Those old gentlemen really had energy to spare.

“Get up, the wontons are getting soggy. Eat up so we can head to the country club.”

Annoyed by his nagging, Fan Qi pulled her teddy bear over her head. “You go! Let me sleep a bit more. If the wontons get soggy, I’ll just heat them up again—still edible.”

“You really not coming?”

“Nope. Brother, let me sleep, please?”

“There’s this German restaurant that makes amazing crispy pork knuckle. Want to try it?” he tempted her.

Fan Qi peeked out from under the bear, rubbing her eyes and looking up at him.

“You come play golf with me, and tonight we’ll go eat crispy pork knuckle,” Chen Zhiqian bargained.

Fan Qi squinted at him for a few seconds, then finally dragged herself out of bed.

She brushed her teeth, washed up, changed clothes, then sat at the table. She added a spoonful of vinegar to her wonton soup and started eating in big bites. Chen Zhiqian reached over to ruffle her hair. “Slow down.”

She glared up at him with puppy-like frustration, baring her teeth.

After breakfast, the two got into the car. Chen Zhiqian was still thinking of ways to tease her, but then a song came on the radio—and to his surprise, she started humming along. Off-key, but still. The corners of Chen Zhiqian’s mouth lifted in a smile. Classic kid—quick to pout, but just as quick to bounce back.

As they turned the corner, Fan Qi suddenly stopped humming. Chen Zhiqian glanced sideways at her and saw her staring out the window in fascination. On the mountain outside, amusement park rides from the Ocean Park were visible.

The car continued moving forward as she watched quietly the entire time. Even after they turned again and the view shifted, she craned her neck to keep looking.

Only when the Ocean Park disappeared from view did she turn her head back and resume singing her slightly off-key, mispronounced tune.

At the entrance of the country club, a security guard came over to inquire, then opened the gate to let them in.

It was Fan Qi’s second time here. The first time had felt quite impressive, but this time felt a bit underwhelming—maybe because she had already seen the Yuan Building. This place had character, yes, but lacked that seamless grandeur—it felt a little forced.

Chen Zhiqian parked the car, and the two of them walked in side by side. At the entrance, they saw Yuan Hai, and Chen Zhiqian greeted him, “Uncle.”

“Zhiqian, Xiaoqi,” Yuan Hai came over to welcome them.

“Has Grandpa Yuan arrived?”

“Yes, he’s inside.” Yuan Hai led them in.

Following Yuan Hai, they entered the club and saw Old Mr. Yuan chatting with another elder. Chen Zhiqian stepped forward, “Grandpa Yuan.”

Old Mr. Yuan introduced them, “Zhiqian, let me introduce you. This is Mr. Fu from Jincheng Group. You’re familiar with Huiqianjia Supermarket, right?”

“Of course. I’ve heard of Mr. Fu’s reputation for a long time,” Chen Zhiqian replied.

Mr. Yuan smiled. “I showed Mr. Fu two characters from your games—he really liked them. Jincheng’s Toy World is interested in collaborating with you to develop and promote those characters.”

So this was the owner of Toy World? Fan Qi had originally thought the rivalry between Toy World and Child’s Wonderland had nothing to do with her. But now it turned out to be connected to Chen Zhiqian?

Mr. Fu said to him, “After seeing those characters and hearing that you plan to co-produce an animated series with Mr. Yuan, and even package figurines with your game consoles, I think we can work more closely. Not just on distribution, but on character development too.”

“Thank you for your interest, Mr. Fu. I had considered that, but since Jincheng is a large, well-established Chinese business and Tianyao is still a startup, I was worried it might not be taken seriously,” Chen Zhiqian said modestly.

“No way. With Mr. Yuan’s recommendation and the strength of your products, that’s more than enough assurance.”

“Thank you!”

While they were chatting, Yuan Hai whispered to his father, “Boss Qiao is here.”

Mr. Fu and Old Mr. Yuan both went over to greet him. Boss Qiao didn’t need any introduction—Fan Qi recognized him immediately as one of the top tycoons in the city. Before Mr. Yuan could say anything, Boss Qiao was already shaking Chen Zhiqian’s hand.

“Ah Yuan told me you’ve made a new friend recently,” he said warmly.

“Good day, Mr. Qiao.”

“Come, let’s play a few rounds together,” Mr. Yuan said.

Fan Qi watched as Chen Zhiqian moved easily through the golf course, swinging and chatting with these big-name businessmen like he belonged there. She had assumed this was one of those social events where he needed a female companion by his side, but clearly, he didn’t need her at all. So why had he insisted on bringing her?

“Xiao Qi, come here!” Chen Zhiqian called out.

Fan Qi reluctantly stepped out from under the sunshade and walked over. She heard him saying to Mr. Qiao, “My wife has a real talent for the stock market—even Mr. Liao Jiqing praised her. But she’s just passed her broker’s license exam, so whether she truly has what it takes will be shown in the upcoming live trading competition.”

“You work so hard yourself—do you really expect your wife to work too?” Mr. Qiao teased.

“I can’t let her talent go to waste.” Chen Zhiqian handed her the golf club. “Want to try a few swings?”

Fan Qi didn’t understand why he was bringing up her trading skills in front of these business elites.

Chen Zhiqian looked at her. “Do you know how to play?”

She could say yes—but that she didn’t like it. In her past life, although her parents had their flaws, they never lacked money. So she’d been made to learn all these classy, upscale hobbies. She wasn’t great at them, but she wasn’t a complete novice either.

But this lifetime’s Fan Qi probably shouldn’t know, right? So she replied, “Nope.”

“I’ll teach you.”

Hearing that made Fan Qi stiffen. In her previous life, she’d used the same line—claiming she didn’t know how to golf—to avoid a direct supervisor she didn’t like. The man took it as an opportunity to “teach” her, getting handsy in the process. She’d reacted instinctively, swung the club, and nearly made him a eunuch.

She hadn’t hesitated back then. If Chen Zhiqian tried something similar… should she hit him too?

Turned out, she was overthinking. Chen Zhiqian didn’t touch her at all—he demonstrated how to stand, how to grip the club, how to swing—all very proper and respectful.

“Give it a try.”

She swung. The posture was fine, but the ball landed nowhere near the hole—more like eight poles away.

“Not bad, not bad! For a first time, that’s pretty good,” he encouraged.

Was he praising her like a little kid? Fan Qi turned around after her swing and saw Liu Xiangnian approaching, accompanied by Feng Xueming, getting off a golf cart and walking their way.

She said to Chen Zhiqian, “Liu Xiangnian is here.”

“Let him come,” he replied calmly.

Old Mr. Yuan walked over before Chen Zhiqian could. “Mr. Liu, long time no see.”

Mr. Qiao also approached. “Brother Xiangnian, how’s your health lately?”

“Well, I had a major surgery. Thankfully, the cancer hadn’t spread,” Liu Xiangnian replied.

Mr. Qiao sighed. “Indeed, life is unpredictable. That’s a blessing.”

Mr. Fu joined them as well, followed by Fan Qi and Chen Zhiqian.

Seeing his grandson walking behind Yuan Zaide, Liu Xiangnian couldn’t help the pang in his chest. Why was the boy so stubborn? Why turn to outsiders instead of his own grandfather? Did he think Liu Xiangnian’s support would be any less than Yuan Zaide’s?

“Zhiqian, playing a round with these gentlemen today?” he asked.

Chen Zhiqian smiled and nodded, “Grandpa Yuan wanted to introduce Mr. Fu to me. And Mr. Qiao is Ah Yuan’s elder. They were kind enough to tolerate my lackluster golf skills. You here to play too, Mr. Liu?”

He called Yuan Zaide “Grandpa,” but addressed him as “Mr. Liu.” Liu Xiangnian kept telling himself to be patient—to wait for the clouds to part and the moon to shine through. But if this kept up… he couldn’t hold it in forever. He wanted to lash out, but forced it down again.

He said, “I’m just out for a walk. Ever since my surgery, I’m not really fit for sports anymore. But since all of you happen to be here, I thought I’d join you for a chat. How about lunch on me today?”

The group continued playing ball and chatting. Everyone present was involved in the business world, and the recent U.S.-Japan Semiconductor Agreement had become a hot topic of discussion.

They were debating whether the depreciation of the U.S. dollar was truly effective. After all, it had been almost a year and a half since the dollar began to weaken in February 1985, and yet the U.S. trade deficit with Japan continued to grow.

After listening for a while, Chen Zhiqian turned and asked Fan Qi, “What’s your view?”

From pushing her to the forefront earlier in front of the other business leaders, to now inviting her to share her opinion—was this all part of his plan? At home over the past couple of days, they had discussed the Semiconductor Agreement repeatedly. She thought it was just Chen Zhiqian, a young man, getting excited about having found a long-term mission to dedicate himself to, eager to talk about it.

But now it seemed like he had been helping her organize her thoughts so she could perform well in front of this crowd. But she was just a stock trader—why would she need to “perform”?

Still, this wasn’t the time or place to shy away. She spoke up:

“The effects of exchange rate fluctuations on trade flows are typically delayed. Historically, if we look back—from the textile industry in the 1950s to home appliances and automobiles later on—the Ministry of International Trade and Industry in Japan has consistently used subsidies…”

Having studied the U.S.-China trade dispute in her past life, she had naturally gone back to analyze the details of the U.S.-Japan trade conflict. Fan Qi had a relatively deep understanding of this history. And during their recent home discussions, she and Chen Zhiqian had thoroughly worked through these ideas again.

The more she spoke, the more serious the expressions of those around her became. Was this really just some glamorous actress from romantic films? Even their own heirs, whom they had raised with vast resources, might not be this insightful.