Chapter 32
Ming Jiayue was a beauty of classic, dignified features and a righteous aura.
Ji Shuangci had seen her in her most magnificent, power-filled moments, and she had likewise felt the weight of her gentle, profound tolerance. She was like a piece of Jun porcelain refined over years in the kiln, or a mountain range weathered by monsoons for centuries.
The more one sought to explore her, the more one discovered her boundless vastness.
And at this moment, she had retracted her outward sharpness. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes hazy with wine, shimmering like water full of unspoken affection.
She was incomparably beautiful, and her charm possessed a rare poise.
Ji Shuangci had never seen Ming Jiayue in such a state—so, so intoxicatingly alluring.
She had arrived with a heart full of grievances and anger, but she didn’t know what kind of spell she had fallen under. Her thoughts stalled, her mind went blank, and it felt as if her entire heart were being gripped by Ming Jiayue—aching, softening—leaving her only able to trace the woman’s face with her gaze over and over again.
They were positioned with one above and one below. As time passed, Ming Jiayue grew uncomfortable from the weight. She pressed her hand against Ji Shuangci’s shoulder, pushing her to the side, and reached out to grab a throw pillow to tuck beneath herself.
Whether in posture or expression, Ming Jiayue appeared incredibly relaxed. Her shirt was buttoned all the way up to the collar, and though there wasn’t a single suggestive image, Ji Shuangci found her lethally sexy.
Her throat bobbed; Ji Shuangci let out a long, slow breath and didn’t move again.
Ming Jiayue lay on her side, a hint of emotion gathering in her eyes. She glanced sideways, arched an eyebrow, and suddenly reached her hand out toward Ji Shuangci. Her breath was winding and far from steady.
“You want me to beg you?”
Even Ming Jiayue’s hands deserved the description of “icy skin and jade bones,” carved as if from fine jade.
The world was silent, leaving only the two of them. Ming Jiayue’s eyes seemed filled with the moonlight of the night. Ji Shuangci watched her, and as if possessed, she bent down, lowered her head, curled her legs, and lightly pressed her chin against those fingertips.
Ming Jiayue withdrew her hand inch by inch.
Ji Shuangci followed the fingertips, moving her knees forward inch by inch.
It was a scene of desire and tension.
Suddenly, Ming Jiayue’s hand against Ji Shuangci’s chin loosened. She raised it instead, making a gesture as if she were about to slap the offending woman inches away.
Ji Shuangci instinctively closed her eyes.
One second, two seconds… a gentle, stroking sensation came from the side of her cheek. A soft laugh sounded in her ear—mellow and pleasant, delivered in a rare, tender tone.
She said, “So silly.”
The forbidden, the restrained—all those obscure emotions flared up again like a wildfire. Ji Shuangci hadn’t drunk a drop of alcohol today, yet her cheeks turned red. Next came her neck, her ears, and even her palms began to sweat.
The early spring breeze blew gently, and a rustling of green growth rose outside the window.
Ji Shuangci lowered her head and let out a series of short, shallow laughs. Why did spring arrive so early this year?
Ming Jiayue fell asleep at some point, her breathing long and steady. Ji Shuangci lightly circled her waist, pressing against her back from behind. She turned off the light, closed her eyes, and sank into this peaceful, warm, and beautiful night.
In the Ming family villa, Zhou An’an held her phone and woke up early. She went downstairs to ask the butler:
“Uncle Butler, hasn’t Auntie Ming come back yet?”
Knowing Ming Jiayue was supposed to come home, Zhou An’an had rushed to finish all her work. But when she arrived last night, Ming Jiayue wasn’t home at all, and she wouldn’t answer calls or messages.
An’an was a little anxious.
She was no longer the naive, ignorant girl of her student days. After graduation, she had entered her father’s company for training, preparing to take over the reins step-by-step.
Usually, Ming Jiayue was busy with work, and she was too; they hardly saw each other.
As for those obscure, difficult feelings, they had suffered a crushing defeat in the clash between reality and reason.
As An’an grew more mature each year, she understood more clearly: Ming Jiayue did not love her. They had spent many warm moments together and accompanied each other for a long time—as elder and junior.
There were massive chasms between them: age, experience, family…
Once, An’an had tried to cut open her heart to show Ming Jiayue. She had sobbed uncontrollably in front of her, speaking of her love as if she were ready to renounce everything…
Ming Jiayue had sat quietly, pulled her into her arms, wiped away her tears, and gently patted her back. She coaxed her tenderly and then told her, mildly yet firmly:
“It is not suitable. It is not possible. I do not accept it.”
“An’an, this is not love.”
Ming Jiayue didn’t even utter a single word of reproach. She completely considered An’an’s dignity and tolerated her rebellious thoughts.
An’an felt ashamed; for a long time, she didn’t dare see Ming Jiayue again.
However, Ming Jiayue had proactively sought her out.
She asked about her life, cared if she was doing well, if she was happy, or if she needed help anywhere.
Just like a gentle elder, she guided her out of the cage of her own making, accompanied her to see the bustling world, and then, at the right time, let go of her hand and watched her walk away.
An’an began to learn to let go. By chance, she accepted the pursuit of another woman. They dated for six months; she couldn’t say what was wrong, but she just didn’t feel that feverish impulse from before.
An’an broke up with her and has remained single since.
Now, she could interact naturally with Ming Jiayue without any overstepping behavior. Under the wash of time, even she herself couldn’t distinguish if it had truly been love.
But that didn’t matter anymore. For the current Zhou An’an, being able to see her occasionally as a family member was lucky enough.
Fate is not a philanthropist; the love received outside one’s life trajectory must eventually be repaid.
Just as An’an was lost in thought, Ming Jiayue walked in through the front garden.
Her jacket and shirt were uncharacteristically wrinkled, and her demeanor wasn’t as orderly as usual. An’an stepped forward and sharply noticed a red mark on the side of Ming Jiayue’s neck.
A cluster of color visible through the fair skin—it looked exactly like a hickey.
“Auntie Ming, where were you last night? Did something happen?”
An’an’s eyes were full of worry. The fact that Ming Jiayue and Ji Shuangci were at odds had already spread throughout H City. She was worried to the point that she had considered going to apologize to Ji Shuangci to seek peace.
When she was young, she had been pampered and focused only on her own wilfulness, leaving Ming Jiayue to bear the consequences.
Ming Jiayue’s expression was a bit subtle. She didn’t say much, only:
“The engagement was too late, so I just slept at a nearby hotel for the night. I didn’t get a chance to charge my phone.”
“Okay. There’s porridge warming in the kitchen. Have some before you wash up and rest.”
Ming Jiayue nodded in agreement. After breakfast, she went upstairs and entered the bathroom.
The hickey was in a very obvious position, visible at a glance. It seemed Ji Shuangci had done it on purpose—like a hunter who likes to leave a specific mark on their prey.
Ming Jiayue looked at the hickey through the mirror. Her eyes suddenly grew deep, and after a long time, she let out an unreadable laugh.
At the same time Ming Jiayue left, Ji Shuangci silently opened her eyes. She did nothing and said nothing, acting as if she hadn’t noticed a thing.
She had imagined many reactions Ming Jiayue might have upon waking.
However, running away directly was something Ji Shuangci hadn’t anticipated.
Faintly sniffing the lingering fragrance in the bedding, Ji Shuangci couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “She really is cute.”
The employees of Chuangyi’s China branch were horrified to find that their workaholic President Ji would occasionally start smiling foolishly—smiling in meetings, smiling in the pantry, smiling in the elevator… smiling with an indescribable look as if she were possessed.
That wasn’t even the most absurd part. Two days later, employees of both Ming Corp and Chuangyi were surprised to see Ji Shuangci strolling over to the Ming headquarters every day, heading straight for the President’s office.
Sometimes she stayed for half an hour, sometimes an hour. Then, everyone would see the two of them walk out looking like they were having a pleasant conversation, with President Ming personally seeing President Ji downstairs.
News that the Huaxia production line was soon to be acquired by Chuangyi spread with “photographic evidence.”
For a whole week, the financial media in H City used their largest layouts to report on their reconciliation.
When the true is taken for false, the false becomes true. Ming Jiayue saw Ji Shuangci off and waited leisurely for the next move from various parties. Needless to say, the Tang family was “determined to win”—buying land, negotiating orders, expanding production lines… investing with extreme optimism regardless of cost.
They put on an air of total dominance.
As a physical enterprise concerning the nation’s livelihood and economy, the public discussion was high. However, the vast majority praised Ji Shuangci as a genius, while conversely, they lamented that Ming Jiayue was a “beauty in her twilight years” and a “fading hero.”
Many bloggers even released videos mocking her and Ming Corp’s performance over the past year.
[How to evaluate Ming Jiayue’s terrible performance in handling the core product iteration this year?]
Stage 1: Proclaiming we have absolute confidence to meet the market’s challenges.
Stage 2: Expressing we’ve taken a certain hit, but it’s entirely within the tolerable range.
Stage 3: Saying perhaps we should take more proactive measures to recoup losses.
Stage 4: Claiming we should have taken measures long ago, but it’s too late.
Stage 5: Lying down and admitting defeat.
In mid-November, the lone red maple in Ming Jiayue’s yard turned a vibrant crimson. She received a call at home, and within two hours after the call ended, a video on social media quickly exploded across the entire internet.
In the video, the well-known President of the Ming Group sat in a car that hadn’t been released yet. After greeting the camera, she slammed the accelerator to the floor.
In a closed venue, she drove the electric car with the visual impact of a race car.
It was twilight, and the horizon was painted with broad strokes of orange, amber, and deep gold. From her perspective, the passionate colors were pulled into streaks of light by the car’s speed. Pendulum drifts, four-wheel-drive cornering…
The camera pulled back for an overhead drone shot. On the rolling green mountains in the distance, the intense embers of the sun rolled behind pure white clouds. On the other side, Ming Jiayue operated the vehicle through continuous turns, the wind from the extreme speed blowing through her wild, uninhibited long hair. The glowing sunset fell from the sky, and at this moment, time seemed to slow down infinitely. She looked like a newly rising, fierce morning sun.
The finish line was set near a wide cliff. At a distance of exactly two meters from the edge, Ming Jiayue braked to a halt.
Zero-error operation—thrilling, beautiful, and breathtaking.
“The Boundary Series—Unchanged price, ultimate enjoyment.”
The end of the video featured page after page of explanations regarding the new car. Simultaneously, the Ming Group’s official account opened a livestream for pre-orders. Crucially, the livestream staff included the core engineers from the research team the Tang family had collaborated with.
Once this video was released, it was “sky is falling” news for industry insiders.
They thought the tiger was so old its teeth had fallen out, so they dared to pluck its whiskers. Now it turned out she was just playing with them!
The related search terms on the internet were “BURST” for the entire night.
“Wait, we’re doing the ‘mole’ trope? I just sold my Ming Corp stock and went all-in on Chuangyi. This isn’t just killing the Tang family; it’s killing me!”
“Someone tell me—is this real? Has the business war reached the point where the President has to personally risk her life on camera?”
“I’m in the industry, and I can only say this move is designed to be lethal. Based on the Tang family’s investment projects over the last half-year, they’re going to lose everything down to their underwear. Those with weak hearts will definitely jump off buildings. Chuangyi won’t be much better; President Ji is in for it.”
“Stabbing them at their most triumphant moment—killing the heart!”
“I hereby announce I am going all-in on Ming Corp stock.”
“And you, President Ming, my Sister—you are the true Queen.”
“So the core technology of ‘Boundary’ is enough to crush the ‘Zhuyue’ series? President Ming stayed still just to wait for them to bleed out?”
“How much hatred is there? This is a death blow.”
Many stayed awake all night. The next day, Ming Corp stock hit the daily price ceiling at the opening. Conversely, the opponents’ stock plummeted.
A crowd of reporters blocked the entrance to the Ming building. Ming Jiayue sat in her office with the door tightly shut, her expression calm as she looked at her phone. There was no excitement or joy, as if everything had been planned long ago.
Ji Shuangci’s call came in at this time. Ming Jiayue heard it ringing but didn’t pick up.
Shortly after, she received a WeChat message from Ji Shuangci with only one question:
“So when you said I was ‘so silly’ that night, was it because everything was an act from the very beginning?”
Ming Jiayue clicked into the chat. Her gaze lingered for a few seconds, a hint of playful amusement flashing in her eyes, before she crisply turned the screen off.
At this moment, on the 38th floor of the Ruijin Center, there was a loud bang. Everyone saw President Ji suddenly smash her phone, her face so dark it looked like it could drip ink.
It was the first time they had seen Ji Shuangci lose her composure so publicly.
She bowed her head and propped herself up on the desk. After two minutes, she straightened her back and apologized.
“My apologies, everyone. I need a thirty-minute break. I’ll see you in the conference room at 11:00.”
Ji Shuangci’s office returned to “all-nighter” mode. During this time, she tried to visit the Ming building again but was blocked by security at the entrance.
Months passed without them meeting again, until the H City Young Entrepreneurs Model Commendation Meeting, where both were again invited to attend.
The authorities intended to foster a reconciliation; this time, the venue wasn’t as dull as usual—it was open-air, halfway up a mountain.
Ming Jiayue arrived first, Ji Shuangci later.
At the top of the stairs, Ming Jiayue stood against the wind, her chin slightly raised, a hint of a smile on her lips.
Ji Shuangci climbed the steps under her gaze, her face showing an exhaustion that even makeup couldn’t hide.
One high and one low, one left and one right.
Their gazes met, and in those silent few seconds, the air seemed to smell of gunpowder, ready to ignite at any moment.
Ming Jiayue stood against the light, tall and graceful. She leaned in slightly, brushing past Ji Shuangci’s ear. Her voice was low, her ending tone curling upward.
“Mhm?”
“Wanted to beat me?”
“Is this all you’ve got?”
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