Jiang Quyan was anxious.  

He hadn’t seen Guan Zhengying in two months, and their last meeting had ended on a terrible note. He had been firm when he drove him away, but now, facing another meeting, he couldn’t help feeling uneasy.  

At the office, Guan Zhengying looked a little weary. Maybe he hadn’t been sleeping well lately—dark circles were visible under his eyes, making the white strands at his temples and the wrinkles at his forehead even more prominent. He finished reading the report, carefully marked a few areas for revision, and asked detailed questions about key points in the schedule.  

“Since you’re here, I’ll tell you directly.” Guan Zhengying said, “I’ve decided to send Ah Xue to study in the U.S. Her boyfriend is American, and she wants to go too. I heard that going to high school makes it easier to fit in, so I figured she might as well leave earlier.”  

Jiang Quyan was caught off guard. “But her career is just taking off here. Why so suddenly…?”  

“It’s great that she has a career, but she’s still young. She needs an education—having knowledge and a degree will give her confidence in the future. I don’t want her to sacrifice her studies for short-term gains. Modeling relies on youth. When she’s no longer in her prime, what will she do? She can’t be a model forever.” Guan Zhengying’s tone was firm.  

Jiang Quyan understood his concerns as a father. “Then I’ll start reducing her workload.”  

Guan Zhengying nodded. “School in the U.S. isn’t too demanding, so she can still take on some work in her free time. You should assign her a dedicated manager—someone experienced and reliable. You don’t need to personally handle everything.”  

Wait—was he being replaced as her manager?  

Jiang Quyan was both shocked and anxious. “That’s not necessary. I can handle it. I’ve always been responsible for Ah Xue, and I wouldn’t feel comfortable handing her over to someone else.”  

“She’s not your responsibility.” Guan Zhengying looked at him. “Besides, you’re an executive now. Handling such basic, hands-on work isn’t appropriate for someone at your level. You have more important things to focus on.”  

Jiang Quyan’s heart sank.  

He couldn’t gauge Guan Zhengying’s intentions. He had managed Guan Xuexin ever since she started as a child model at six years old. She had grown up under his watch, and he had always looked after her—both professionally and personally. She even told him about her first boyfriend before she told her own father. To him, she wasn’t just a client; she was like a little sister.  

Did Guan Zhengying no longer trust him as her manager? Had he made a serious mistake? Was this a way of stripping him of his authority?  

His entire career at Fuzheng had started with being a manager. He had climbed from there to become an operations director and later a PR director. Managing talent was his foundation, his core expertise. As the boss’s daughter, Guan Xuexin being under his management symbolized trust and his proximity to the company’s core power. If she was reassigned, how would others perceive him? Would they think he was simply moving up the ranks, or would they see it as a veiled demotion—one step away from being sidelined completely?  

Why was Guan Zhengying making this decision now? Was he still angry? Was this retaliation for that day—when he had rejected him and kicked him out? Was this his way of saying he wouldn’t be valued anymore?  

Jiang Quyan’s face turned pale at the thought.  

Guan Zhengying noticed and softened his tone. “You’ve done so much for Ah Xue over the years, and I’m truly grateful. But after thinking about it carefully, you’re still young. Having a child with you all the time is inconvenient and puts a burden on your life. That was my oversight.”  

“No, she’s well-behaved, and I like her a lot.” Jiang Quyan’s voice was tinged with emotion.  

Guan Zhengying smiled. “She likes you too. When I told her about studying abroad, the first thing she asked was whether you would go with her. I told her you still have work here, so it’s impossible, and she was reluctant to leave. It’s clear how much effort you’ve put into taking care of her—otherwise, she wouldn’t be so attached to you.”  

Jiang Quyan wasn’t against her leaving. “Studying abroad is good. I support education. I’ve suffered from not having enough education myself. Ah Xue is smart—if she studies seriously, she’ll do well.”  

“She’ll still be in touch with you, and she’ll be back for work occasionally. You can visit her too. The only change is that someone else will handle her daily tasks, but you’ll still be responsible for her overall career direction and branding.” Guan Zhengying reassured him, afraid of a misunderstanding. “I’m not telling you to step away completely—just not to micromanage everything.”  

Jiang Quyan finally felt a little better. “Understood. I’ll make the arrangements.”  

Guan Zhengying’s real concern wasn’t Guan Xuexin, but his disappointing eldest son.  

“I need to reflect on my own failures. I haven’t been a good father. I didn’t discipline Ah Hong properly, which is why he turned out like this. Now that he’s older, he won’t listen to reason anymore. I just hope he can live a steady life—I have no expectations for him to achieve anything great.”

“He just lost his mother, so he’s heartbroken and desperate to achieve something to show her,” Jiang Quyan said tactfully.  

Guan Zhengying had already lost hope in his son. “I’ve told everyone—no one is to give him money during this time. If he comes to you asking for it, don’t give him anything. If he throws a tantrum, tell him it was my decision and that he should come to me.”  

Jiang Quyan nodded in agreement.  

Guan Zhengying continued, “I’m not keeping him in the company anymore. He’s nothing but a parasite, always causing trouble. I’ll send him to the military for a while—let him suffer a little, so he realizes how comfortable his life has been.”  

“Isn’t that too harsh on him?” Jiang Quyan wasn’t convinced that military service was the solution. “It might toughen him up, but it might not have the effect you want. He’s used to an easy life—he might endure the hardship for a while, but when he returns, he could end up even more reckless and indulgent. Plus, there’s no guarantee he’ll understand your intentions.”  

Guan Zhengying sighed, rubbing his temples. “I honestly don’t know what to do with him.”  

Jiang Quyan thought for a moment. “Ah Hong does have ambition. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be trying so hard to prove himself in the subsidiary company. His methods are wrong, and his abilities don’t match his ambitions, but who would dare criticize the young master? No one wants to offend him.” He then suggested, “Why don’t you bring him to your side and teach him yourself? If he feels that his father still values and cares about him, he might be more willing to work hard. Besides, only you can truly make him listen and accept discipline. Instead of giving him major projects right away, start with smaller tasks and ease him in.”  

Guan Zhengying hesitated. “Would he even want to be around an old man like me all day?”  

Jiang Quyan chuckled. “You’re his father—blood is thicker than water. Why wouldn’t he?”  

Guan Zhengying looked at him and smiled. “I really don’t understand these kids. You’re more attentive than I am.”  

“If you’re worried, I can talk to him first,” Jiang Quyan offered. He didn’t want to see a permanent rift between father and son. After all, they were family, and unity was always better.  

Guan Zhengying was concerned that his son might give Jiang Quyan a hard time. “If he says anything unpleasant, don’t take it to heart. Let me apologize on his behalf in advance.”  

Jiang Quyan waved it off. “Kids say all sorts of things. It’s no big deal.”  

Guan Zhengying was reassured. “Good. Talk to him. Maybe he’ll start seeing you differently. You’ll be together for a long time, so it’s best to establish a good relationship now.”  

Jiang Quyan assumed the “long-term” relationship Guan Zhengying mentioned referred to working as colleagues. He simply smiled without responding.  

“A few days from now, once Ah Xue’s paperwork for studying in the U.S. is finalized, come over for dinner,” Guan Zhengying said. “It’ll just be me, Ah Hong, Ah Xue, and you. Think of it as a farewell gathering for Ah Xue—I’m sure she’d like you to see her off.”  

Jiang Quyan found this reasonable. “Alright, I’ll be there.”  

Since there was still time before Guan Xuexin left for the U.S., Jiang Quyan wasn’t in a rush to find Guan Zhanhong. He deliberately waited two weeks before visiting the subsidiary company after work.  

By then, Guan Zhanhong was already packing up his things, preparing to leave. HR had spoken to him, making it clear that this was a direct order from the headquarters—he was fired. He didn’t have much to pack; the young master, who never actually did any work, barely had any stationery. Aside from an expensive but mostly empty briefcase, he only had some decorative items like framed photos, potted plants, and books.  

Jiang Quyan walked in just as Guan Zhanhong was putting a family photo frame into a box. “Clocking out?”  

Guan Zhanhong looked up, surprised to see him. “You must be thrilled. Did you come to laugh at me?”  

“Why would I bother coming all the way here just for that?” Jiang Quyan sat leisurely on the couch. “The entire company has already laughed at you multiple times. I just had lunch and overheard a bunch of stories—way more entertaining than staring at your sulking face.”  

Guan Zhanhong stopped packing, silent.  

“Being looked down on, hearing people talk behind your back—doesn’t feel great, does it?” Jiang Quyan tilted his head, feigning sympathy. “I lived like that for fifteen years. Now it’s finally your turn.”  

Guan Zhanhong clenched his fists. “You’re despicable!”  

Jiang Quyan raised an eyebrow. “Me? What did I do wrong?”  

“You dare say you did nothing wrong? How do you think you got to where you are today? Do you know why people look down on you?”  

“Oh, I know. People say I climbed into your father’s bed to get ahead, and you believed them. But when people say you’re useless, why don’t you believe that?”  

“Don’t twist the facts! It was my mother—”  

“Yes, your mother sent me to your father’s bedroom. But she only brought me to the door. Did she actually see anything happen between us?”  

Guan Zhanhong was stunned—whether from shock at Jiang Quyan’s bluntness or from the unexpected truth, he wasn’t sure.  

Jiang Quyan patted the empty seat next to him, gesturing for Guan Zhanhong to sit. “Look, I don’t think your mother was stupid. Your father and I worked hard to cover up what actually happened, so it’s understandable she didn’t notice. And I don’t blame you for misunderstanding either.  

“But let me make one thing clear—I never had that kind of relationship with your father.”  

Guan Zhanhong didn’t believe him. “Liar.”  

“What would I gain from lying now?” Jiang Quyan challenged. “If you don’t believe me, call your father and ask him yourself.”  

Guan Zhanhong hesitated. He didn’t have the guts to ask his father about something so personal.  

Jiang Quyan sighed, holding up one finger. “We kissed once—just once. And I was the one who initiated it.”  

Guan Zhanhong sneered. “Didn’t you just say nothing happened?”  

“That kiss was out of necessity,” Jiang Quyan replied.

Lin Zhifang had her suspicions about the two of them.  

Sometimes, she would subtly probe Guan Zhengying’s driver or secretary. Other times, she would conduct surprise inspections of Jiang Quyan’s body. On occasion, she would even plant people around Jiang Quyan to report their activities back to her.  

To deal with her scrutiny, Guan Zhengying developed the habit of driving himself whenever he took Jiang Quyan out, ensuring no one else was present. They rarely booked hotel rooms, avoiding the risk of being spied on or recorded. During those years, Jiang Quyan honed his makeup skills to perfection—hickeys, bruises, fingernail scratches—he could recreate any mark left from intimacy. He even inflicted small injuries on himself, mixing real wounds with fake ones, making it nearly impossible for Lin Zhifang to discern the truth.  

But faking bedroom activities was only part of the act. Sometimes, they had to put on a show in public as well.  

The most nerve-wracking occasion was the year Fuzheng went public on the stock exchange. It was late 1996, just before Hong Kong’s handover. Signs of the Asian financial crisis were beginning to show, and Hong Kong was the first to feel the impact. Speculators flooded in, inflating the market, while rumors spread that Western investors were planning to short Hong Kong stocks. Panic ensued, and every Hong Kong citizen’s first act in the morning was to check financial news and stock prices.  

Fuzheng had planned to go public before the New Year, but in such turbulent times, the challenge was immense. Guan Zhengying spent weeks entertaining clients and officials to smooth the process, drinking heavily almost every night. There were times he drank himself into oblivion and had to be taken to the hospital for IV fluids. Even on the eve of the listing hearing, he was out wining and dining the vice chairman of the stock exchange.  

That evening’s banquet was lavish. Guan Zhengying brought along his wife, Lin Zhifang, senior executives, and stock exchange officials, reserving a private hall in a high-end restaurant. Around fifty people attended. After the meal, key officials were escorted to a nightclub in Tsim Sha Tsui East.  

Before heading to the club, Lin Zhifang, feigning intoxication, excused herself to go home. Then, she arranged for Jiang Quyan to accompany her husband. This was her usual tactic—rather than interfering with her husband’s entertainment, she would send him in her place. It made her appear magnanimous while ensuring someone she trusted stayed by Guan Zhengying’s side, which was preferable to him being surrounded by unknown women from the club.  

When Jiang Quyan arrived at the nightclub, he was greeted by a room full of men reeking of alcohol, each with a woman in his arms. On stage, singers performed sultry melodies, and on the floor, dancers swayed seductively.  

Guan Zhengying sat on the right side of a long sofa. A girl had just crawled out from under the table and was climbing into his lap.