Chapter Twenty

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The sky was overcast, with massive dark clouds pressing so low that they seemed like a crumbling wall about to collapse. The urgent autumn wind howled, lifting the dense carpet of fallen leaves throughout the garden.

Unnoticed, autumn had already arrived in the southern city.

Shen Huaiqing reached out to close the window, her gaze lingering on the churning clouds at the horizon, the perfect embodiment of that old saying: “The wind fills the tower before the mountain rain descends.”

“Madam, you have a letter.” Aunt Feng knocked gently at Shen Huaiqing’s door, a note of bewilderment in her heart.

Who sends letters in this day and age?

A faint twitch flickered at the corner of Shen Huaiqing’s eye as she accepted the envelope and studied it closely.

The envelope was pure white, bearing only a delicate line: “To Shen Huaiqing.”

Inside, the invitation was made of silver-gray, subtly shimmering cardstock, with “Invitation” embossed in gold. Unfolding it revealed a neat line of print: “On the evening of September 6th at 7:00 p.m., Miss Shen Huaiqing is cordially invited to attend my art exhibition at the Grand Hall of the W Hotel.” Signed, Lin Yiqing.

So Lin Yiqing couldn’t wait any longer? Over the past month, Fu Chen and Shen Huaiqing had graced the headlines of every entertainment section, always showcasing their affection.

“President Fu takes his wife on a seaside getaway; the two share a passionate kiss.”

“Mrs. Fu learns to make chocolate by hand, simply because her husband loves it.”

Such stories were endless. Everyone in the southern city envied this loving couple; Lin Yiqing, after a month of watching these public displays of affection on the front page, clearly couldn’t take it anymore.

Shen Huaiqing was determined to go, but it was best if Fu Chen knew nothing of it—otherwise, there would be unnecessary complications.

President’s Office.

Fu Chen stood with both hands in his trouser pockets, his tall, slender figure framed by the enormous glass window overlooking the metropolis. His brows were drawn in anger, a sharpness and edge replacing his usual calm and distant demeanor.

“She’s received the invitation,” he said coldly, the words slipping from his thin lips.

Lin Yu lounged lazily on the sofa, his pale blue, finely checked shirt with sleeves casually rolled up, a look both elegant and inexplicably seductive.

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“I think you’re being overly sensitive. Shen Huaiqing has long since noticed that your relationship with Yiqing is unusual, but she hasn’t done anything out of line. Besides, Yiqing’s art exhibition in the city was always part of her plan, and as a socialite, Shen Huaiqing was bound to be invited,” Lin Yu explained patiently to Fu Chen.

Fu Chen’s face remained expressionless, his voice still cool and detached: “You’ll understand my concern when you see Shen Huaiqing today. She’s not the kind of pampered heiress people think.”

Lin Yu played with the custom lighter in his hand, the flame flickering and casting shadows across his face: “Then let’s go a bit later. Give your wife a big surprise.”

Night fell, and the city lights came alive. In the bustling metropolis, neon glowed and brightened the city streets as if it were daytime.

Shen Huaiqing sat in the car, gazing quietly out the window. The whole city seemed to bathe in the shimmering neon, the radiant lights outshining the gentle moon and concealing her own restless heart.

Before they reached the hotel entrance, the car stopped—there was a queue. Clearly, tonight’s event had drawn quite a crowd.

Suddenly, a commotion erupted ahead. Through the darkened glass, Shen Huaiqing frowned in annoyance—reporters again.

“Madam, Lin Yiqing is quite well-known. There must be many celebrities here tonight, and the reporters won’t miss this opportunity,” the driver tried to reassure her.

Watching her expression darken in the rearview mirror, he quickly added, “Madam, President Fu is one of the W Hotel’s shareholders. If you don’t mind, we could use the back entrance.”

Shen Huaiqing’s mood immediately improved, just as she was about to nod, a thought struck her. Her brown eyes sparkled as she replied, “No need. Why should I sneak in the back? If the press caught wind of it, who knows what stories they’d spin. I’ll use the main entrance.”

The driver nodded sheepishly, secretly marveling at how quickly a woman’s mood could change.

Ten minutes later, the black limousine stopped smoothly at the hotel entrance.

Her hair, as dark as seaweed, cascaded to her waist. She wore an off-shoulder, high-slit black evening gown that made her skin appear like porcelain. A diamond butterfly necklace glittered at her throat, and beneath the soft lights, she was like a blooming black rose. Shen Huaiqing’s slender, alluring legs exuded a silent allure in the night.

The reporters swarmed toward her like predators.

“Miss Shen, are you here to assert your status as the main wife by attending Miss Lin’s exhibition?”

“Why isn’t President Fu here with you? Are the rumors of marital discord true?”

Shen Huaiqing’s smile was radiant, captivating, and calm: “You reporters have such wild imaginations. It’s a waste you’re not writing novels.”

Her retort rendered the reporters speechless. Shen Huaiqing turned gracefully and walked out of their encirclement, heading toward the grand hall.

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The banquet hall was ablaze with light and noise, an assembly of the city’s elite. Handsome men and beautiful women mingled in small groups, wine glasses in hand, exchanging pleasantries. The aroma of wine drifted through the air as glasses clinked.

Shen Huaiqing took a cursory tour of Lin Yiqing’s works before sitting down. She wasn’t versed in art, but thought the pieces all looked beautiful.

“President Shen, we meet again.” Mu Jinghuai, dressed in a pure white suit, approached with a gentle bow and a warm smile.

Shen Huaiqing was surprised—was this really the kind of event Mu Jinghuai could attend?

She nodded politely, asking with curiosity, “How did you get an invitation?”

Mu Jinghuai winked mischievously and offered his hand with a smile: “If you’ll dance with me, I’ll tell you the secret.”

Noticing the attention from onlookers, Shen Huaiqing hesitated, about to refuse, when she caught Lin Yiqing’s gaze through the crowd—an expression laden with too much meaning.

Slowly, Shen Huaiqing placed her hand in Mu Jinghuai’s palm, her brow furrowing slightly. “Alright.”

Mu Jinghuai beamed with delight, holding her hand tightly as if never wanting to let go.

As elegant music played, Mu Jinghuai gently embraced Shen Huaiqing’s waist, her hand resting on his shoulder—their closeness almost intimate.

In a voice only the two could hear, Shen Huaiqing asked, “Now can you tell me?”

Mu Jinghuai laughed softly, affectionately replying, “Of course I snuck in. No one would actually invite me.”

Unable to help herself, Shen Huaiqing gave him a light smack on the head. “You brat! Looking for trouble?”

Mu Jinghuai stared at her in a daze, forcing a smile while sorrow welled up in his eyes. Self-mockingly, he said, “Do you know how long I’ve been searching for you?”

Shen Huaiqing’s movements faltered, regret flooding her—why hadn’t she controlled herself just now?