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Chapter 8 — The Stunning Transformation of the Child Bride

The taxi arrived at the Mid-Levels villa area. Carrying multiple large shopping bags, Lin Keying walked into Mansion No. 5, her hands practically overflowing. Despite having worked as an employee for over a decade, she had never shopped so extravagantly before and still wasn’t quite used to it.

Inside the villa, two young maids, Ah mei and Axiang, quickly came forward to help her. However, since neither of them spoke Mandarin, they could only clumsily ask a few questions. Once they learned that Miss Lin had bought many clothes, they excitedly urged her to try them on.

Though each villa in the Mid-Levels had servants, none had a more relaxed and leisurely life than those of Mansion No. 5. That was because the owner of Mansion No. 5—the eldest young master of the Cheng family—rarely visited.

As a result, the servants spent their days idly at the villa, still receiving generous salaries each month, to the point where they almost felt guilty about it.

With Miss Lin’s arrival, the villa finally had a guest again, and Ah mei and the others were delighted, feeling at last that they were earning their keep.

Unable to refuse their enthusiasm—and because she herself was infatuated with her new clothes—Lin Keying happily began trying them on one by one in her room.

Her original self, due to hardship and poor financial circumstances, had been wearing clothes that were several years old. They no longer fit her growing body, and just the slightest movement made them appear too short—either exposing her waist, her wrists, or her ankles.

Now, dressed in new clothes, everyone in the villa couldn’t help but be amazed.

Aunt Hua gave Miss Lin a thumbs-up and kept praising her as a beauty.

Lin Keying understood the compliment and accepted it with a joyful smile.

Privately, Aunt Hua and Uncle Zhong exchanged thoughts about Miss Lin’s feelings for the eldest young master and sighed, “Miss Lin was already pretty, but now with these new clothes, she looks even more stunning. I think she’s prettier than those beauty pageant queens on TV.”

Uncle Zhong, however, said, “It’s not like there aren’t plenty of pretty girls chasing after the young master. You should advise Miss Lin not to waste her time and energy on him.”

Aunt Hua probed for gossip, “I heard the old master wants the young master to marry the daughter of Director Li from Jardine Matheson. Is that true?”

Uncle Zhong, who had closer ties with the Cheng family’s ancestral home, replied, “The old master does have that plan. That Director Li’s daughter studied finance overseas and speaks five or six languages—she’s remarkable. Her father is a director, her mother works in the colonial government; a marriage alliance with the Cheng family would be ideal. Plus, I hear Miss Li is sophisticated and beautiful—she matches the young master in every way. As for Miss Lin, who came from the mainland, at most she’s a distant relative of Young Master Chen’s family. She has no background at all—naturally, it won’t work.”

“Ah.” Aunt Hua, who genuinely liked Miss Lin’s personality, could only sigh repeatedly in regret.

Unaware that people in the villa were feeling sorry for her, Lin Keying changed out of her rustic, rough clothes and, dressed in a red-and-white striped camisole and denim shorts, began planning her return to the mainland in half a month.

Once she got her one million yuan, she’d return to the capital, buy a dozen courtyard houses, and in a few years, when commercial housing became available, buy a few shops to collect rent, live in an apartment with an elevator, make some investments here and there, and basically declare early retirement at twenty.

With nothing pressing at hand, Lin Keying asked Mrs. He about places in Hong Kong that sold wholesale clothing, intending to broaden her horizons.

In the late ’80s and early ’90s, after China’s reform and opening up, there were golden opportunities everywhere. Business prospects were endless, and smuggling clothing and electronics from Hong Kong to the mainland was especially common. As long as one successfully transported the goods across, it was an immensely profitable business.

At that time, there was a large production gap between the two sides. Hong Kong’s clothing was fashionable, colorful, and had its own unique Hong Kong flair, so much so that decades later it became trendy again.

Fashion really does cycle.

With her modern sensibilities, Lin Keying wandered among the clothing stalls of Hong Kong and didn’t feel the styles were outdated at all. Instead, they had their own unique charm.

Although the fabric quality couldn’t compare with the department stores, the clothes were cheap and stylish. Most pieces cost between 5 to 10 Hong Kong dollars, and once transported to the mainland, they could easily sell for several dozen or even over a hundred yuan—and would still sell out instantly.

After all, China had only recently begun opening up, and most clothing was still black, white, or gray—simple and repressed for too long. Bright colors and trendy designs had long been coveted.

Lin Keying began calculating whether she should invest in a clothing store upon returning to the mainland and use the connections she could now establish in Hong Kong to do business smoothly. That would be far easier than blindly fumbling around back home.

For example, Sister He and her husband were mainlanders now living in Hong Kong—honest and reliable, perfect for handling logistics.

While calculating her business plan in her mind, Lin Keying picked out a few dresses and clothing sets from the market stalls and was about to leave with her bags when she heard a commotion nearby.

The intricate alleys of this working-class neighborhood had all been cordoned off. Older residents either continued eating at roadside stalls or drinking sweet soups as if nothing unusual had happened, while the younger ones eagerly gossiped and tried to figure out what was going on.

Equally curious, Lin Keying circled back to Sister He’s stall and finally heard that a shootout had occurred nearby!

Sister He reassured her, “There are a lot of gangs in Hong Kong. Fights often break out in the streets—you have to be careful.”

Following the crowd to the alley entrance to watch the commotion, Lin Keying saw police officers in their iconic green uniforms (the kind only seen in Hong Kong dramas), their black leather belts at their waists—an oddly familiar sight.

As police officers secured the scene, Lin Keying spotted a familiar figure on the other side.

“Secretary Yang—” Lin Keying waved her hand.

When Yang Minghui saw Lin Keying again after a few days, his eyelids twitched involuntarily.

How had the child bride of the young master’s cousin become as stunning as a beauty queen?

But what gave him an even bigger headache was her ambiguous, hard-to-define relationship with the young master.

“Miss Lin, why are you here?” Secretary Yang’s awkward Mandarin resurfaced.

“I came to buy clothes,” Lin Keying said, and, guessing that her fiancé must be nearby, asked, “Are you and the young master handling business here? Can I see him?”

Curious, and since she hadn’t had a chance to see her fiancé for several days and advance her “storyline” and express her feelings, Lin Keying was still thinking about her one million yuan!

Normally, Secretary Yang would never take an outsider over, but Miss Lin seemed to be different in the young master’s eyes—he even let her feed him. Even if their relationship breached social norms…

Given the weight she carried, Secretary Yang hesitated.

…

Had she known what scene awaited her, Lin Keying would never have asked Secretary Yang to take her to see her fiancé.

In her memories, her fiancé was always impeccably clean, dressed in sharp suits, exuding a powerful aura—the quintessential 1980s big shot.

But now, the man’s dark gray suit and white shirt were stained with fresh blood. The blood on his chest spread like ink on paper—bright red.

Lin Keying blinked, her heart pounding wildly.

Wasn’t her fiancé a businessman? Could it be he was involved in the underworld too?

Ah, right—weren’t most Hong Kong tycoons of the ’80s and ’90s tied to both the legal and illegal worlds? Lin Keying’s lashes fluttered slightly as she suppressed her instinct to run away, carefully observing the now-calm surroundings.

The Hong Kong police officer was speaking with the tall, bloodstained man, and their conversation seemed respectful. The area was calm and secure—there was no danger.

Clenching her resolve, Lin Keying thought since she was already here, she couldn’t miss this opportunity. This was her chance to push her luck, make physical contact with her injured fiancé, and deepen their relationship!

She didn’t hesitate any longer and trotted over to the man.

Today, Cheng Wanting had been secretly meeting with Liu Zhigao, the decision-maker of Tianxing Realty, when a third-party gang attempted to assassinate them.

The blood on him wasn’t his own but had splattered onto him during the shootout.

The grim scene had been brought under control by the police; everyone stood tense and composed, except for one splash of bright red and white rushing straight toward him.

Cheng Wanting reflexively reached for his gun, but when his gaze fell on that familiar yet unfamiliar figure, he stopped.

The red-and-white striped camisole hugged pale skin tightly, revealing large swathes of whiteness. Her beautiful shoulders and neck flowed gracefully like a swan’s, and her long black hair—previously braided—now fell loose in natural waves, like silk draped over snow-white skin, a striking contrast.

The half-finger-wide waist he’d glimpsed that day was now a full finger’s width of exposed pale skin between her trendy camisole and sky-blue denim shorts.

As she ran, her long, slender legs seemed endless before she finally stopped in front of him.

Cheng Wanting lowered his gaze to see Miss Lin staring fearfully at the bloodstain on his chest, her lips slightly bitten as if she wanted to speak but hesitated. Her hands fluttered midair before curling back.

Lin Keying stared blankly at her fiancé’s bloodstained shirt for a few seconds, then looked up at his expression—he didn’t seem injured.

Relieved, though slightly disappointed (no injury meant less excuse for physical contact), her gaze slowly shifted downward when she caught sight of his broad hands. His fingers were long and well-defined, joints prominent, and his entire being radiated a cold hardness.

At that moment, his hands were stained with blood—quite an eye-catching sight.

Opportunity!

Lin Keying softly murmured, “Young Master, are you alright?”

As she spoke, she quickly pulled a white handkerchief from her pocket and boldly yet gently grabbed his hand, lowering her gaze to wipe the blood from his fingers.

As Cheng Wanting felt her soft grasp, a tingling sensation shot from his fingertips like electricity, spreading quickly to his palm, arm…

From his vantage point, he could only see the top of Lin Keying’s jet-black hair and curled lashes, her side profile fair and delicate, her petite nose high and straight, her cherry lips tightly closed as she carefully wiped the blood from his hand.

So obedient.

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