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Chapter 11 — Watching her chatting and laughing with another man…

Because Dr. Huo’s words and actions were both humorous and candid, Lin Keying didn’t get angry. Instead, as she took a sip of red wine, she half-mockingly praised him, “Dr. Huo, you really are a dutiful son.”

Dr. Huo smiled noncommittally. “My parents are probably relieved to have shaken off such an eyesore like me. Tonight, they can finally enjoy a world of just the two of them.”

Having studied medicine abroad, Huo Huachen naturally carried a touch of Western openness in his manner—so frank it bordered on outrageous. Especially since the first time he laid eyes on Miss Lin, his heart had been firmly set.

To be honest, in the romantic and quiet Western restaurant, chatting and laughing across the table with such a well-informed companion, Lin Keying felt it was quite pleasant.

However, as time passed, the surrounding air seemed to grow thinner, as if a searing gaze from some unknown direction was piercing her back like needles.

Following her intuition, she glanced toward the entrance of the Peninsula Hotel. She only saw a grand entourage leaving, heavily guarded by bodyguards. Who knew which big shot had just arrived?

Fortunately, once the big shot left, that burning gaze seemed to vanish as well. Lin Keying continued enjoying her meal, occasionally glimpsing some rich second-generation heir proposing with flowers at another table—it truly felt like life imitating drama.

…

While romantic scenes played out in the Western restaurant on the first floor, up in a private suite on the 26th floor of the Peninsula Hotel, the heads of Huanyu Group and Tianxing Real Estate were sipping tea and conversing.

Liu Zhigao had ventured into the real estate industry in Hong Kong years ago, snatching up considerable land from both the colonial government and British firms. His wealth was astonishing. Now in his early forties, right in the prime of his career, he sized up the young man across from him—barely thirty—with some surprise.

The Cheng family had previously been devoted to shipping and rarely clashed with his interests. But in recent years, Cheng Wanting had frequently made moves, advancing aggressively into commercial buildings and real estate, always causing concern.

Now, this man had even invited him here personally—with a clear goal: Wharf Holdings (Kowloon Wharf).

“Brother Cheng, I want Wharf, Jardines wants it, and now you want to get a piece of it too?” Liu Zhigao raised his teacup, the rich aroma wafting around, and took a heavy sip.

Cheng Wanting, though more than ten years younger, exuded a calm and steady aura without a trace of youthful fear. He raised his cup in return, gesturing slightly before taking a sip himself.

The strong, bitter tea flowed over his tongue and down his throat, accompanying his low voice:
“Everyone wants Wharf, and I’m no exception. If you insist on clashing with Jardines, you might as well hold onto your 18 million shares and confront them for the rest of your life.”

“Are you threatening me?” Liu Zhigao’s eyes narrowed.

“I didn’t invite you here to threaten you—I want to help,” Cheng Wanting replied smoothly, his long fingers resting lightly on the porcelain teacup, perfectly composed.

“And how do you propose to help?” Liu Zhigao’s interest was piqued.

“I heard you’re also interested in Crescent Bay. If you sell me the 18 million shares of Wharf you’re holding, I’ll help you negotiate with HSBC. I get Wharf, you get Crescent Bay—isn’t that the best of both worlds?”

Crescent Bay was likewise a prime piece of real estate in Hong Kong, though currently controlled in part by HSBC.

Recalling rumors circulating in the market, Liu Zhigao chuckled. “Brother Cheng, don’t tell me you’re planning to personally step into the game—by marrying the daughter of an HSBC board director to help your old pal out?”

Aristocratic alliances were commonplace in Hong Kong, even a key way to maintain family status. Yet at that moment, an image of the handsome man and beautiful woman chatting downstairs in the restaurant flashed through Cheng Wanting’s mind.

He gave a light laugh. “I wouldn’t go so far as to get personally involved for this.”

As cups were exchanged, night fell completely. Stars speckled the sky, blending beautifully with the glittering city lights below.

Outside the room, Secretary Yang and Liu Zhigao’s confidants stood waiting. When they heard the door open, they all rose to their feet.

Liu Zhigao signaled for his men to leave. As he departed, he looked back at Cheng Wanting. “Brother Cheng, it’s settled then. Whether it’s Wharf or Crescent Bay, I’ll get a piece of both. As for you—whether you can take Wharf or not, that depends on your skill.”

Cheng Wanting nodded slightly, expressionless. “What I want, I always get.”

After Liu Zhigao’s group filed out, Yang Minghui assigned their bodyguards to stand guard outside. Once the door shut, he quickly approached his young master.

“Young Master, about Wharf—”

“Go investigate the man at Table 6 in the restaurant downstairs.”

Secretary Yang reflexively replied, “Yes.”

But as soon as the words left his mouth, he froze.

Table 6? Investigate what man? Weren’t we just talking about Wharf!?

—

The Western meal ended very pleasantly. By the time Lin Keying and Huo Huachen left, night had fully fallen. With great courtesy, Huo Huachen hailed a taxi for Lin Keying, paid in advance, and opened the door himself. Before helping her into the car, he couldn’t resist extending an invitation for their next meeting.

“Miss Lin, are you free this Saturday?” Noticing her keen interest in food during dinner, he eagerly offered, “Li’s Teahouse has excellent afternoon tea—I think you’ll like it. Oh, and we can watch a movie first. ‘The Prodigal Disciple’ just came out; it’s gotten great reviews and the action is fantastic.”

Lin Keying vaguely sensed Dr. Huo’s intentions. If not for the fact that she’d soon be returning to the mainland, never to stay in Hong Kong, dating such a handsome and witty man wouldn’t have been a bad idea.

Unfortunately, she wasn’t destined to stay here.

“Dr. Huo, I’ll be leaving Hong Kong soon. You don’t need to waste your time on me—”

“Miss Lin, no matter when you leave, right now you’re here.” Huo Huachen smiled gently. “I don’t think eating and chatting with you is a waste of time. Besides, we’re already friends, aren’t we?”

Lin Keying couldn’t argue. He was too sincere, and his approach respectful, impossible to dislike.

“Alright, see you then.” Just as Lin Keying agreed and was about to sit into the taxi, she suddenly heard a familiar Mandarin voice with a distinct accent.

“Miss Lin!” Secretary Yang hurried over and quickly stopped her from getting into the cab. “We’re about to return to the Mid-Levels villa—come with us.”

Lin Keying: Huh?

Since when was her fiancé so thoughtful?

…

The spacious back seat of the Rolls-Royce Silver Spur felt surprisingly cramped today, as if even the air had thinned.

Secretary Yang had lost his usual spot in the back and had to sit in the front passenger seat, secretly observing the situation behind through the rearview mirror.

The Young Master was actually giving someone a ride—and he was the one who offered!

Suppressing his shock, Secretary Yang’s mind buzzed.

The back seat, grand and imposing, reminded Lin Keying of a vintage Rolls-Royce Silver Spur she’d seen at an auto show in her previous life—its noble and elegant lines were imposing and majestic.

She never expected that after time-traveling forty years back, she’d get to experience this car up close.

However, the car owner beside her was anything but hospitable—ever since she got in, he had buried his head in the newspaper.

“Young Master.” Sensing the rare chance to bond, Lin Keying seized the opportunity to express her feelings. “Why did you suddenly decide to return to the Mid-Levels villa today?”

She had heard that her fiancé owned multiple mansions, but spent most of his time with his family in Deep Water Bay, only occasionally visiting the Mid-Levels villa.

“Uncle Zhong and Aunt Hua miss you. They keep asking when you’ll come back so they can make soup to nourish you,” Lin Keying racked her brain for conversation topics to chat with this cold man.

Finally, he spoke.

“Is that so?” Cheng Wanting folded the newspaper and turned to glance at the woman dressed up elegantly for tonight’s candlelight dinner, his gaze indifferent. “So do you want me to come back or not?”

Lin Keying: …?

Why the sudden change in attitude? Still, no matter what, she reminded herself to stick to the script and gave an enthusiastic answer.

“Of course I want you to!”

Cheng Wanting saw Lin Keying smile sweetly at him, blooming like a red rose, speaking the most bewitching words.

“I think of you every day.” Worried her words weren’t strong enough, Lin Keying shed all restraint, pouring out all the sweet talk she could. “Even when you’re not home, I worry whether you’re eating well and taking care of yourself.”

With such blatant affection, her fiancé, who hated this child bride, should react—be annoyed—maybe even add another 200,000 to the compensation package!

In the front, Secretary Yang’s ears perked up. Hearing Miss Lin’s undisguised declaration of love, his eyes nearly popped out.

It wasn’t that he was inexperienced—but in all these years, countless women had tried to approach the Young Master, yet none had ever gotten close, let alone openly express affection while the Young Master patiently listened.

Secretary Yang glanced sideways and accidentally met the eyes of the driver. Both raised their brows, two equally gossip-hungry faces, holding their breath.

Then, a deep voice from the back stunned them further.

“In that case, I’ll start staying at the Mid-Levels villa every night from now on.”

Lin Keying: ?

Secretary Yang: ?

Driver: ?

Even after returning to her guest room at the villa, Lin Keying still couldn’t figure out her fiancé’s behavior. What had provoked this change?

Maybe it was just the calm before the storm, she comforted herself. Worst case, she’d sail back to the mainland next week—whether it was a million or just 600,000 HKD, that was still a lot.

Yet she couldn’t help but wonder if she hadn’t annoyed him enough lately. Had he really not increased the payout?

Around 8 PM, Lin Keying, wearing a cute white silk ruffled nightgown she had bought at the mall, lay on her bed reading. When she heard noise outside, she quickly grabbed her book and newspaper, stepped out, and timidly called to her fiancé at the door.

“Young Master, I want to learn to listen to and speak Cantonese. If I run into something I don’t understand, could I come ask you?” —It was time to take the initiative and create some trouble for her fiancé.

Sure enough, his gaze landed on her coldly, tinged with an almost scorching sharpness, clearly on the verge of irritation from being disturbed.

“I don’t have time for that,” he said curtly.

Lin Keying hugged her books and watched him leave, only turning back to her room once he had gone upstairs, lips curling into a smile.

Excellent. I’ll just keep annoying him like this a few more times!

Yet upstairs, in the master bedroom, the man was in a foul mood—because he hadn’t slept well again. That damned dream had returned. In the dream, that patch of green sometimes turned red, then suddenly became a swath of white—with a delicate ruffled collar.

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