When Lin Su woke up the next morning, she was alone in the large bed. Judging by the bright spring sunlight streaming through the curtains, it was already late.
This was a very large bedroom.
Large enough to fit two beds, one square and one round, arranged in a shape that resembled a flat exclamation mark.
Silently, she got up alone, first pulling open the curtains to let the sunlight flood the room. All of his homes seemed to be so large, so spacious that they felt empty. Lin Su thought it would be difficult for anyone with a fragile heart to live in such an environment—at least, she felt that way.
Yet, wherever he went, it never seemed empty.
It was always vibrant, like the Grand View Garden in Dream of the Red Chamber.
She wondered if there was a poem about her, just like the women in that story.
The ending shouldn't be too bad.
Just like the radiant women around him—A, B, C, D, Alice Ferguson, Sophia Faith... All dazzling on the stage he provided, outshining men everywhere.
Even she and Chen Qing had become the envy of many.
Cat-like, she quietly dressed, washed up, and did her makeup by herself. Afterward, she remained in the bedroom, not venturing out.
In fact, she had known when the others got up, but deliberately chose to stay behind. Ever since he had exposed some of her thoughts the day before, she had been like this. And... he was always so restrained, like someone who, faced with a table full of delicacies, still knew when to stop. But last night, all of that restraint seemed to have fallen on her.
So much so that she still felt too weak to get up.
She wandered barefoot to the edge of the round bed and sat down, looking around. The bed had no covers, more like a small stage. She recalled the three beautiful Ukrainian girls from last night, illuminated by soft lights from above, like blooming lilies—stunning and pure.
She understood now why he liked them.
The bedroom door suddenly opened, startling Lin Su, who instinctively stood up.
When she saw that it was Chen Qing entering, she rolled her eyes—she had no idea when Chen Qing had picked up such a Western habit.
Chen Qing smiled as she approached. "I thought you were still in bed, so I was planning to yank off the covers."
Lin Su ignored her, glanced at her wristwatch, and saw it was already 9:30 a.m.
Chen Qing sat down on the round bed, pressing down on the mattress as if reliving memories of last night. But soon she stood back up and said, "Alright, there are plenty of women like you around the boss—no one really cares. Let's get to work. Otherwise, you'll just end up as another pretty vase."
Hearing this, Lin Su felt a bit embarrassed but followed her out of the bedroom anyway, determined not to ask about certain things.
However, after going downstairs and noticing how much emptier the villa seemed, she realized he had already left. She had just been too shy to face him, but now that he was gone, her heart felt somewhat hollow. Perhaps she really was the kind of "little woman" Confucius had spoken about.
Following Chen Qing into the villa's dining room, Lin Su mechanically took a seat, only snapping out of her daze once seated.
A maid served breakfast and quietly left.
Chen Qing picked up a copy of The Wall Street Journal, gesturing to Lin Su's breakfast. "You've got ten minutes. We've got a lot to do before we leave this afternoon."
Lin Su glanced at her breakfast, her eyes lingering on the small plate with pills, her face flushing as she thought of something, and she sighed softly before taking a sip of her warm milk.
These small details did not escape Chen Qing's notice. Without looking up from her newspaper, she commented, "What's with the sigh? If you get pregnant, it's really not a big deal—just more child support. This kind of thing is nothing to the boss. The only thing is, you'd have no way out after that. Our boss wouldn't allow the mother of his child to run off with another man."
Lin Su hastily replied, "You're talking nonsense."
Chen Qing shrugged, another Western habit she had picked up unknowingly. "Or, you could just choose not to take them."
Lin Su fell silent, picking up her utensils and ignoring Chen Qing. However, by the time she left the dining room ten minutes later, the small plate was empty.
After breakfast, they headed to a coastal estate in southwest East Hampton, which was being renovated to serve as the dormitory for the dancers of the Guofeng Art Troupe. The renovation had been completed over the past six months. The main villa, resembling a castle, had three floors and nearly 10,000 square meters of space. With 100 dancers moving in, each girl would have an average of 100 square meters to herself—an incredibly spacious setup.
The estate spanned 15 acres, equivalent to over six hectares or about 91 mu by Chinese measurement, facing the sea and surrounded by lush greenery, creating an isolated haven.
Chen Qing couldn't help but feel a bit envious.
In China, unless you went deep into the countryside, owning such an estate was nothing but a dream.
Moreover, while this estate seemed far from the heart of New York City, it was located in one of the most exclusive and expensive areas in the U.S. Only her boss could afford to dedicate 15 acres of prime real estate to house a group of dancers—and still pay for it.
At the same time, Chen Qing had another, deeper thought.
This time, things had reversed.
The Chinese girls about to move in would almost be the mistresses of this estate, as there would be a team of 100 maids and security personnel—mostly Western women—responsible for their day-to-day lives and safety.
In China, who could imagine a group of high-status Western women working as bodyguards and maids?
Amazing.
However, Chen Qing also recalled her boss's more devilish side.
He liked to treat the women around him like princesses, letting them enjoy the heights of luxury and power. Once they tasted life at the top of the pyramid, returning to the life of a commoner would be incredibly difficult. Perhaps that's why the women around him worked so hard—not wanting to go back to their past lives.
In the afternoon, after inspecting the estate, Chen Qing and Lin Su made their way to the kitchen, large enough to cater to over a hundred people. Chen Qing checked each of the utensils prepared for the dancers and, seeing the new rosewood chopsticks in the cupboard—ordered specifically from China—thought for a moment before saying to Angra Davis, "Angra, get rid of these chopsticks."
Initially, she had thought the girls should retain some Chinese habits, but now it seemed unnecessary. In a Western-style estate this beautiful, chopsticks just didn't fit.
Simon had tasked Chen Qing and another colleague with overseeing the renovation, but many details were managed by the trusted housekeeper Angra Davis, who had increasingly earned Simon's trust. After all, Angra was the expert, and Chen Qing was far too busy to stay at the estate full-time.
Angra nodded at Chen Qing's instruction, "Yes, Miss Chen."
Standing nearby, Lin Su couldn't help but comment, "You're wasting them. These chopsticks are expensive."
Chen Qing gave her a sidelong glance, then smiled and said to Angra, "In that case, pack them up and have Lin take them with her when we leave."
Lin Su glared back, "I don't want them."
She knew exactly what Chen Qing was implying. These custom rosewood chopsticks were indeed valuable, but taking them home would be embarrassing.
Angra smiled, "Don't worry, Miss Lin. I'll make sure they go to someone who needs them, so they won't be wasted."
Lin Su nodded, accepting the explanation.
Chen Qing, however, turned back to Angra, asking, "You mean, donate them?"
The housekeeper nodded, "Yes, that's what the boss and Mrs. Westeros have arranged. Anything we don't need is donated to charity. We have a dedicated team for it."
Chen Qing frowned, shaking her head. "I don't care about other things, but these must be destroyed. No random donations."
Angra was momentarily taken aback but nodded, "Understood, Miss Chen."
Chen Qing didn't explain further. To her, certain people should only use certain things. If these expensive rosewood chopsticks ended up in the hands of someone from a slum or a homeless person, it would be a waste. Better to destroy them.
After a final inspection of the kitchen, Chen Qing left the estate, satisfied. Before she departed, she asked Angra about another matter, "Have you arranged for the English teachers? I want them to start their training as soon as they arrive."
Angra replied, "We're still finalizing that. Next time you visit, you can personally interview them."
Chen Qing nodded, adding, "Make sure they're women, and preferably attractive."
Angra agreed, "I'm mainly looking at Chinese students studying abroad. That way, they can speak both languages."
"Good, just like that," Chen Qing approved. "And make sure you do thorough background checks. I don't need to remind you of that, right?"
Angra smiled, "Of course. The Westeros family has always had a dedicated team for this."
Hearing this exchange, Lin Su frowned slightly.
Chen Qing realized as well—if this wasn't handled properly, the Westeros family would have been infiltrated long ago. Since she started working for Simon
, the only incident she had heard of was one housemaid who was publicly exposed and dealt with early on. After that, there had been no problems.
When Chen Qing and Lin Su first came to work for Simon, they had both occasionally wondered if he suspected them of being spies.
Looking back now, those concerns were unnecessary.
If Simon hadn't been sure of them, they never would have been allowed to follow him to the U.S.
Both of them, including Lin Su, despite still having strong feelings for her homeland, had never done anything that could harm Simon. Even when Lin Su acted as a bridge between him and the Chinese government, she always remembered her place. And many of her actions were tasks Simon had specifically asked her to handle.
Reflecting on her time in the U.S., Chen Qing realized that Simon probably knew everything about the true personalities of the women around him. He likely had an entire team of psychologists assessing them. Chen Qing had seen such tests during the selection process for the Guofeng Art Troupe. Of the 260,000 applicants, only 100 were chosen—not only for their dance skills and clean backgrounds but also for their personalities.
Girls like her, with an inherently rebellious and ambitious nature, would never have made the cut.
Since it was Simon's private troupe, he wanted women as gentle as water, not those prone to restlessness.
By evening, Chen Qing and Lin Su had finished their work at the estate and boarded a flight back to China.
Aside from handling various business matters, their main task this time was preparing for Simon's upcoming trip to China.
The first stop would be Shanghai.
Every time she returned from the U.S., Chen Qing couldn't help but notice the stark contrast in environment and culture.
It was especially noticeable in the city's architecture.
Most of Manhattan's neighborhoods were very old, with buildings over half a century old everywhere. Yet, those buildings blended seamlessly into the city's overall style.
The suburbs were the same.
Whether it was the luxury estates of East Hampton or the simpler wooden homes, they all seemed to naturally integrate with their surroundings.
In China, everything felt jarring.
Chen Qing understood that much of it had to do with the country's dense population, but still, city planning could have been more thoughtful.
She only mused about it for a moment, though. There wasn't time to dwell on such things.
Upon landing, her schedule immediately became packed.
Moreover, Chen Qing had been closely following the price war happening in China's television industry.
It was the first major price war in the country since the economic reforms began.
Highly significant, with long-lasting effects.
In March, Changhong Group had suddenly announced a large-scale price cut across its television brand, rallying under the slogan of resisting foreign competition. The stated reason was to fend off the expansion of foreign TV brands in China—a rationale that people would still talk about years later. In reality, it worked.
But the result of the price war wasn't just that foreign brands lost significant market share in China. Many domestic TV brands were also wiped out. Companies like Changhong and TCL ended up dominating the market, securing their positions as industry giants.
In the years leading up to this, as China's economy improved, the demand for televisions had surged, leading to a boom in domestic TV manufacturers. At its peak, there were over sixty Chinese TV brands.
In the end, 90% of them disappeared from the market.
But that was a story for another time.
For now, the price war was just beginning. Apart from TCL, which followed Changhong's lead, most other manufacturers hadn't yet reacted. Many were accusing Changhong of disrupting market order and even calling on the government to intervene. For over a decade, China's television market had been a seller's market, with high prices and fat profits. Everyone had been making good money—why start a price war?
Cersei Capital's China Economic Research Institute had taken note of the industry upheaval and was actively monitoring the situation.
Chen Qing, who had developed a keen business sense over the years, was doing the same.
Although the TV price war seemed unrelated to Westeros's investments in China, Chen Qing knew it was deeply connected.
The biggest link was the VCD industry, which had exploded this year.
Countless Chinese manufacturers were flocking to the VCD market, in much the same way as the TV industry.
Then there was the computer industry.
Both sectors were experiencing similar issues.
It was easy to see that the outcome of the TV price war would foreshadow the future of the VCD and computer markets.
All of these industries were overheated, profitable, and chaotic.
Therefore, if one could thoroughly understand the dynamics of the TV price war, navigating the VCD and computer industries would become much easier. To this end, Chen Qing had secured special access from her boss to obtain real-time reports from the Cersei Capital research team.
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