Manhattan.
Near Columbus Circle, on the southwest corner of Central Park, a sleek black Mercedes-Benz pulled up to the curb. The driver, a ponytailed woman in sunglasses, stepped out and opened the door for Zhu Momo. She glanced at the woman—Paula Coland, one of the Westeros family's bodyguards—and then at Jill Peckett and Annie Zhao, who emerged from the passenger seat and the other side of the car. Zhu Momo couldn't help but feel a twinge of amazement.
Even her mother couldn't manage to have three attendants for a simple outing.
Jill, seemingly aware of the tall girl's thoughts, hooked an arm around hers and started leading her toward a building. "Come on, let's go. We're going to be late."
Annie followed behind, translating in her usual tone. "Stop embarrassing yourself, or people might think you're crazy."
Striding confidently in her 12-centimeter heels, Zhu Momo shot Annie a glare. "Do you think I don't understand such basic English?"
"I know you understand. That's just what I wanted to say."
Zhu Momo smirked. "You're fired, shorty."
Annie rolled her eyes.
The four women made their way to a café on the 12th floor of a nearby building. A waiter greeted them and led them to a table by the window, where two women were already waiting. Judging by their appearance, they were both of East Asian descent. When the newcomers approached, the two women stood up to greet them.
Annie was the first to speak, surprised as she recognized one of the women. "Youhu? What are you doing here?"
The younger of the two women was Li Youhu, from the Guofeng Arts Troupe.
Annie had worked with the troupe before, and while Youhu had been living in Manhattan to train for her role in Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, she often visited the troupe. With so few Chinese staff members in the service team, it was only natural for the two to know each other.
Equally surprised, Youhu warmly hugged Annie and said, "Sister Feihong told me she was meeting a student here. Someone's stealing my teacher, so of course, I had to tag along."
As they spoke, Youhu's gaze naturally landed on Zhu Momo.
Her first impression: So tall.
Then, as if by instinct, a subtle rivalry flared between the two women as their eyes met.
While they exchanged polite words, the other woman, who wore a sleek black dress and had an elegant, scholarly demeanor, extended a hand to Zhu Momo. "Hello, my surname is Yu. And you are… you speak Chinese, right?"
Despite her instant animosity toward the "fox," Zhu Momo felt an inexplicable fondness for the elegant woman before her. Shaking her hand, she replied, "Of course. I'm Zhu Momo."
Yu nodded. "My English name is Faye."
Zhu Momo blinked in surprise, then smiled. "Teacher Yu, Momo is my Chinese name. But my English name is also Momo. My agent said it's easy to remember, unique, and, apparently, very cute."
Teacher Yu looked slightly embarrassed. "Oh, I see. Sorry about that. If you don't mind, just call me Sister Yu—no need for 'teacher.'"
"Sure thing, Sister Yu," Zhu Momo said with a grin, adding, "You're so beautiful. I can't even guess your age."
Yu smiled modestly. "I'm really not much older than you."
As they exchanged pleasantries, Yu turned to Jill.
Jill extended a hand and greeted her in clumsy, heavily accented Chinese. "Hello, Teacher Yu. I… Jill. Very happy… meet you."
"Hello," Yu replied, shaking Jill's hand, though she couldn't help but find the interaction a little odd. The blonde's Chinese was so terrible that Yu was amazed she dared to use it in public.
Yu managed to keep her reaction neutral, but Zhu Momo showed no such restraint, nearly bursting into laughter. "Jill, please stop. Your Chinese is unbearable."
Ignoring her, Jill switched to English and explained to Yu, "Apologies, Miss Yu. I only started learning Chinese two days ago. I hope I didn't make you too uncomfortable."
Yu was taken aback, then impressed by Jill's boldness. She quickly responded in English, "Not at all. You're doing very well for someone who just started."
Zhu Momo, overhearing the exchange, rolled her eyes.
This is "very well"? she thought. It's awful.
Yu had the same thought but didn't voice it. She had her reservations about the tall girl seated before her. From the first glance, Yu doubted whether Zhu Momo could succeed in acting. With her towering height of nearly two meters, she was more suited for specialized roles.
If Jill, with her apparent determination, had come to study acting, Yu would have been thrilled. She clearly had the drive.
The group exchanged introductions and sat around the table to discuss business. Paula, the bodyguard, took a seat at a nearby table, keeping a watchful eye on them.
Teacher Yu couldn't help reflecting on how surreal her life had become in recent months.
Born into a privileged family and exposed to acting from a young age, Yu had been something of a prodigy. By the time she enrolled at the Beijing Film Academy, she was already gaining recognition. After graduating, she briefly taught at the academy, but her restless ambition pushed her to the United States for further studies.
Reality, however, was less kind than her dreams.
Disillusioned by the challenges of life in the U.S., she was considering returning to China when she received an unexpected job offer: to teach a young woman acting. Initially uninterested, Yu was swayed by the generous salary and intriguing hints about the job's context.
The role quickly brought her into contact with influential figures in the New York film scene. She became acquainted with renowned director Ang Lee and other talented filmmakers—something she hadn't achieved in two years in Los Angeles.
And now, another student.
Though Yu had yet to meet the mysterious man behind all this, she knew his name: Simon Westeros.
The name was inescapable.
Yu never imagined she would find herself indirectly connected to such a figure. Or perhaps directly—after all, her contract had been signed with an entity that, while not bearing the Westeros name, clearly had ties to him. The $100,000 annual salary and lavish benefits were more than enough to convince her of that.
Despite her initial doubts about Zhu Momo, Yu quickly adapted her teaching plan. Unlike Youhu, who required comprehensive training, Momo needed a tailored approach focusing solely on her role in Keep Cool. The goal was simple: perform adequately in the film.
Meanwhile, Youhu slyly began lobbying Yu to return to China with her for further coaching. Yu, having not been home in two years, found the idea appealing.
Jill also saw this as an opportunity. She had been eager to visit China, and accompanying Yu and Youhu would provide the perfect excuse.
Only Zhu Momo was less enthusiastic. Her life in the U.S. had just begun, and the thought of returning to China felt like a step backward. Moreover, it might mean months without seeing Simon—a thought she wasn't ready to entertain.
After much deliberation, Momo reluctantly agreed, provided Simon approved.
As the conversation drew to a close, the group debated where to have lunch. Though the café served meals, they opted for the more upscale St. George Restaurant nearby. Jill easily secured a reservation.
Just as they were finishing their drinks, their attention was drawn to the conversation at a nearby table. Two sharply dressed men in their thirties were speaking in raised voices, clearly hoping to catch the women's attention.
"After five rounds of bidding, it opened at $15.50. The market completely underestimated Verizon's IPO. I'm confident it'll hit a $100 billion valuation by the end of the week."
The other man, with slicked-back hair, glanced at their table and said, "So, how much did you get in the IPO?"
The first man, apparently named Jim, replied, "150,000 shares. I wanted more, but Verizon was so hot that demand exceeded supply by 17 times during the roadshow. I only got this allocation because my uncle has connections at Goldman."
The slick-haired man whistled. "That's impressive. If Verizon hits $100 billion, you'll make $2 million. Jim, you owe us a trip to Hawaii."
"Consider it done. A round-the-world trip, even."
The two men laughed loudly before turning to the women's table. Jim, the more handsome of the two, stepped forward with a charming smile. "Ladies, my name's Jim. It's almost lunchtime—care to join us?"
His friend chimed in, "And afterward, perhaps some sunbathing on Jim's yacht?"
The women exchanged amused glances. Even Annie, the "plainest" among them, was still striking by most standards. They had all experienced their fair share of flirtation, but this was bold—even laughable.
Jim, noticing their silence, tried again, "Do you speak English?"
At that moment, Paula approached, her expression cool. "Gentlemen, please don't disturb these ladies."
Realizing his mistake, Jim quickly assessed their jewelry and attire. He recognized the limited-edition Vacheron Constantin on Momo's wrist—worth $120,000 alone. These weren't ordinary women.
Apologizing profusely, Jim and his friend beat a hasty retreat.
As the group prepared to leave,
Momo turned to Annie. "What were they saying?"
Annie smirked. "They invited us to lunch and a yacht trip. If you're interested, you can still catch them."
Momo rolled her eyes. "Why don't you go?"
"I get seasick."
The group burst into laughter as they made their way to lunch, leaving behind yet another moment of levity in their strange new world.
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