Chapter 44: A Match Made in Heaven

Station Street, Lucia Café.

Just hearing the name, you could tell this place was run by Russians, and indeed, the owner was a Russian woman in her thirties. Such wealthy Russian women were commonly addressed as “Madame,” a term that in Russian simply meant “lady of means.”

The original owner of this body had been a frequent patron of the café, but now he preferred tea. After all, he was Chinese, and tea seemed more fitting. Thus, the café where Zhou Sen had once been an almost daily visitor now saw him only rarely. Still, Ice City was the largest city in the Far East, home to many foreigners, and cafés were never in short supply. On any bustling street, you might spot two or three cafés—sometimes called tea and snack shops—each with a name chosen on a whim.

Given his status as a regular, Zhou Sen was recognized the moment he walked in. A young waiter greeted him with enthusiasm, “Young Master Zhou, what would you like to drink today?”

“The usual. I’ve arranged to meet someone for a discussion—give me a quiet spot,” Zhou Sen instructed, assuming that his old tastes hadn’t changed much.

“Of course. Please follow me.”

The waiter led him to a booth tucked away in a corner. There were no private rooms in this café, only open booths, but some offered more privacy than others. Two people speaking in low voices wouldn’t be overheard or disturbed.

“Thank you,” Zhou Sen said as the waiter brought over a latte. He had barely settled in when he spotted a woman entering, wrapped up from head to toe.

The waiter approached to inquire, but she shook her head gently and gestured. He nodded in understanding and let her survey the hall until she finally spotted Zhou Sen in the corner. With her head lowered, she made her way over.

For Bai Yulan, this was the first time she had ever ventured out like this. She hadn’t wanted to come, but in the end, she couldn’t resist. The feeling was oddly akin to a married woman secretly meeting her lover. Yet her husband was long dead, and even if she were to take a lover, what of it? She had nothing to fear from the gossip of others.

Still, the man in her ideal was supposed to be older, mature, and steady—not someone like Zhou Sen, whose temperament was too unstable, too unpredictable for her liking. Instinctively, she felt a sense of repulsion. Women, after all, only discover what they want after experiencing life.

The cold in Ice City this season was intense, and many people wrapped themselves up tightly before venturing out. Her appearance drew no particular attention.

“I ordered you a latte. It’s at just the right temperature now,” Zhou Sen remarked, nearly laughing at the sight of her, though he understood—if she revealed her true face, she’d be recognized instantly, and that would become a sensation throughout Ice City.

For now, he didn’t want the world to know about their connection. (Eavesdroppers might be aware, but they wouldn’t dare speak up, lest they expose themselves.)

“How did you know I like lattes?”

Zhou Sen chuckled. Was he supposed to say he’d smelled it on her? But that sounded just like a girlfriend pouting at her boyfriend. “I asked you to come because I wanted your help reviewing some things.”

With that, Zhou Sen pulled out a black leather case, retrieved the documents inside, and handed them to Bai Yulan.

She took them suspiciously, opened the envelope, skimmed through a few documents, and asked in surprise, “Where did you get all these?”

“They’re from my family, of course. Don’t tell me you don’t even know who I am?” Zhou Sen shot back.

“I know. But these are your adoptive father’s assets. What are you planning to do?” Bai Yulan’s voice was tense.

“I want you to help me estimate—if I mortgage these to the bank, how much could I borrow?”

“Zhou Sen, don’t tell me you’re planning to use these assets to take out a loan for my sake?” Bai Yulan was sharp—she grasped his intention at once.

“For your sake? No, it’s called an investment!” Zhou Sen corrected her.

“But you know about the crisis at the Fragrant Pavilion. This money could very well…”

“Go down the drain, right?” Zhou Sen grinned. “I know. But I trust your ability. I’m willing to bet on you.”

“You—you must be mad!” Bai Yulan exclaimed, rising as if to leave. She may not have liked Zhou Sen, but she had her principles.

“Sit down and hear me out. Actually, I could easily get that three hundred thousand without mortgaging anything. But, like you, I’m also in trouble,” Zhou Sen said calmly, motioning for her to sit.

At that moment, he became even more certain that Bai Yulan was a worthy partner—someone reliable, with boundaries, more trustworthy than most men.

She frowned but sat down again.

“These assets mean nothing to me as they are. Mortgaging them to help you makes more sense. I know thirty thousand is just the minimum you need, probably not nearly enough, but I’m not well-versed in these matters. If I go straight to the bank, they’ll probably undervalue them, so I wanted your advice,” Zhou Sen explained.

“These assets are the fruit of your adoptive father Anthony’s lifetime. You’d just mortgage them away? What will you say to him?” she asked.

“A mortgage isn’t a sale. As long as I repay the money on time, these assets remain mine. Or do you lack confidence in yourself?” Zhou Sen replied. “Besides, my adoptive father Anthony is gone. I don’t know how to manage these things, and if I just sit on them, they’ll be stolen piece by piece. By mortgaging them, at least the money remains under my control.”

Bai Yulan began to understand. Zhou Sen’s adoptive father Anthony was no longer in Ice City, and Zhou Sen himself didn’t manage the businesses. His companies, factories, and shops had long since fallen under others’ control. Officially, he still held the shares, but in reality, the power had shifted elsewhere.

Now, by mortgaging his shares, Zhou Sen could extract a large sum of money, transferring the risk to the banks while retaining ownership as Anthony’s sole legal heir. It was an astute move.

Bai Yulan couldn’t help but admire this supposedly wayward young man’s cunning and decisiveness.

She reviewed the documents one by one before closing them and saying, “By my estimate, these shares together are worth about three million yen. The bank will have more precise figures, but it won’t be more than three million. Under current rules, you can borrow up to seventy percent—about two million. But since you’re not Mr. Anthony himself, the bank will use that as an excuse to lower the amount to reduce their risk. I think if you get one and a half million, that would already be remarkable.”

“One and a half million is enough. If someone seizes the company, I wouldn’t get a cent anyway,” Zhou Sen laughed. Akira Akiyama had told him that Old Man Anthony had died on a mission, and that hypocrite Ivanovich had revealed his true face. This was, in a sense, a way to preserve Anthony’s property.

He couldn’t think of a better way to fight Ivanovich. And even if his relationship with Bai Yulan was exposed and he mortgaged Anthony’s shares to give her liquidity, the worst he’d suffer would be a reputation as a lovesick spendthrift who “sacrificed everything for beauty.”

Reputation meant nothing to him. It was better than being branded a traitor.

“With such a large mortgage, which bank do you plan to use?” Bai Yulan asked.

“No single bank can handle this much. They’ll want to spread the risk, so I plan to approach two or three. You’ve visited many banks these days—can you give me some advice?” Zhou Sen said, knowing Bai Yulan understood banks far better than he did.

“I’ll recommend three banks and help you organize the mortgage documents. With luck, you can get a sizable loan.”

“Three banks—isn’t that too few? That’s fifty thousand per bank.”

“If you want it done quickly, the fewer banks the better. Otherwise, someone might interfere and block all your attempts,” Bai Yulan replied. She didn’t know Zhou Sen’s exact situation, but her own experiences served as warning enough.

“You’re right. This must be done swiftly, without hesitation. I’ll follow your advice,” Zhou Sen agreed, then added, “Why don’t you come with me?”

“How can I possibly go with you…”

“You’ll be my adviser. You don’t have to go inside—just wait outside. When we’re done with one, we move to the next!” Zhou Sen slapped the table lightly. “It’s settled!”

“Zhou Sen, how can I go with you like this? What if someone recognizes me?” Bai Yulan was anxious. If anyone saw her with Zhou Sen, her reputation would be ruined.

“Looking like this, who could possibly recognize you?”

“But… this just isn’t right…” she protested in distress. She had come alone, not even bringing Ah Xiang, determined that no one should know she was meeting Zhou Sen.

Zhou Sen studied her for a moment, and an idea sprang to mind: if Bai Yulan dressed as a man, she would be strikingly handsome.

“Wait here and don’t leave. Otherwise, I’ll put an announcement in the papers and make our relationship public!” With that threat, Zhou Sen stood up and strode out.

Bai Yulan was both angry and anxious. This scoundrel—if she had known, she’d never have come!

About ten minutes later, Zhou Sen returned, grabbed Bai Yulan, and led her outside, where a modest carriage awaited.

Wu En was at the reins.

Once they were in, Zhou Sen instructed Wu En to drive.

“Where are you taking me?” Bai Yulan yanked her hand free and demanded crossly.

“Tongji.”

“What for?”

“To buy clothes, of course. What else?” Zhou Sen replied. Tongji Department Store was the city’s leading fashion emporium.

“Stay in the carriage and don’t move. I’ll be right back!” he told her, then jumped down.

Bai Yulan had no idea what he was up to, but she complied, waiting inside. After about half an hour, Zhou Sen returned, carrying several bags.

“These are for you. Change into them—no one will recognize you like this,” he said, setting down the bags before stepping out.

Carriages had curtains for privacy, and once drawn, no one could see inside. In the time it took Zhou Sen to smoke a cigarette, the door opened.

A handsome young man stepped out, leaving Zhou Sen momentarily stunned—he was no match in looks.

“How do I look?” she asked.

“Very handsome,” Zhou Sen replied. With looks like hers, how could she be anything but? Only a blind man would disagree.

“Do you like it?” Bai Yulan’s eyes sparkled as she cast him a sidelong glance.

Zhou Sen felt a shiver run through him and blurted, “I do.”

“Men—none of you are any good!” she scoffed.

“Yulan, I think we’re a match made in heaven…”