The doors of the VIP lounge swung open with a soft but commanding creak. Butler Yao stepped in first, his posture straight and dignified, followed closely by Li Ziqing, whose presence seemed to draw the very air in the room toward her.
Ruan Zeyuan, who had only moments ago been silently congratulating himself on the flawless execution of his little scheme, froze mid step. His arrogant smile faltered, melting away as disbelief struck him like a bolt of lightning. Victory? Already lost before it had even begun? How was this possible?
His jaw clenched almost imperceptibly as a flicker of irritation sparked within him. The staff… useless trash. Didn't I instruct them clearly to make her understand her place? Yet no trace of his inner turmoil showed on his face. Instead, he stood, forcing composure, his sharp gaze drifting toward the shadows where the newcomers stood in the dim light of the lounge.
A sigh broke the heavy silence. Zhou Yichen said, "Miss Li, you've finally arrived. I was just about to come receive you myself since I couldn't reach you. Because—" he lifted his dead phone with a helpless shrug "—my battery betrayed me."
Without hesitation, he strode forward, his steps brisk, and placed himself at her side with the ease of a natural shield. Turning slightly, he gestured towards both of them and said, "Allow me to introduce you. Miss Li, this is my friend from Shanghai—Ruan Zeyuan."
At the name, Ruan Zeyuan took slow steps, his movements deliberate, as though he needed the extra seconds to rebuild his mask. He forced a smile, one corner of his mouth tilting upward with practiced charm. But the moment Li Ziqing stepped forward, leaving the dimness behind and letting the lounge's soft golden light fall across her features, his composure cracked.
For the first time in years, his eyes widened in raw, unfiltered astonishment. His breath caught and he murmured, "W… what a beauty…"
The words slipped out before he could restrain them.
Zhou Yichen's eyes sharpened instantly. He cleared his throat with a deliberate, pointed force, the sound echoing in the lounge like a warning bell. His glare snapped Ruan Zeyuan out of his daze, though not entirely.
But the damage was done. His shock lingered, etched across his very expression. What is this face? he thought, almost feverishly. This… this isn't beauty. This is divinity.
Even in Shanghai, even in Beijing—the glittering stages of China's high society—he had never, in all his twenty-four years, encountered such a breathtaking presence. Her beauty was not the shallow kind that faded with a second glance, but the kind that seared itself into memory, unforgettable and untouchable. The kind of beauty sung about in ancient poems, the kind that could launch a thousand ships into war, topple dynasties, and bring empires to ruin.
And yet here she was—standing so calmly before him, as if unaware of the storm she had just stirred in his mind.
Li Ziqing, who had clearly caught the careless murmur, betrayed no reaction. Her expression remained serene, poised. She simply stood there, gazing at him directly, her eyes cool but not hostile.
For the briefest moment, she studied him. Ruan Zeyuan was, objectively speaking, handsome—very much so. His features were sharp, his jawline clean, his smile warm in a way that many women would find irresistible. He was the kind of man who drew admiration wherever he went.
And yet, compared to the arrogance laced in his aura, to the games she already knew he liked to play—none of it mattered.
Her lips curved slightly at the corners, the faintest of smiles tugging at her expression. She spoke, her voice soft but clear, every syllable deliberate, "Mr. Ruan."
The simple address cut through the silence like a blade.
Ruan Zeyuan jolted as though waking from a trance, only then realizing how pathetically he had just behaved—gawking at a girl nearly a decade younger than him like some dazed fool. A flicker of embarrassment pricked him. His pride rebelled instantly.
Closing his eyes briefly, he drew in a steadying breath. When he opened them again, his mask was back in place. The dazed awe was gone, replaced with the familiar arrogance of a man who refused to be unsettled. His lips curved into a polished smile, one that carried both charm and disdain, "Miss Li."
Li Ziqing's lips curved ever so slightly as she glanced at him. "Why so shocked? Didn't expect me here?"
Ruan Zeyuan blinked once, quickly masking his surprise with a practiced smirk. He lifted his eyes brows, "Shocked? Not at all. Weren't we just waiting for you? Though, you did keep us waiting longer than expected."
Her gaze sharpened, but her voice remained silky, almost playful. "Kept you waiting? Hmm." She let out a light chuckle. "I simply encountered some… unexpected surprises at the door."
"Ah, surprises. Then tell me—how did you like it?" Ruan Zeyuan said.
Li Ziqing tilted her head, her expression unreadable. "It was… enlightening. Surprises have a way of revealing more about the one who arranges them than the one who experiences them."
Ruan Zeyuan's smile faltered for a fraction of a second, but he quickly regained it with a low chuckle. "Clever words. But in this world, Miss Li, surprises are simply tests. If you cannot withstand them, perhaps you don't belong in certain places."
Her eyes gleamed with quiet defiance as she walked further into the lounge, her voice calm but cutting. "And yet, here I am. Doesn't that already answers that little test?"
The atmosphere tightened, Zhou Yichen glanced between both of them unable to understand the suffocation between them.
Ruan Zeyuan was now slowly starting to loose his calm as he spoke with forced smile. "Perhaps. But sometimes people make it inside only to realize the room is too big for them. Comfort is not guaranteed."
Li Ziqing's smile deepening, eyes unblinkin as she said, "Then it depends on who's measuring the room, doesn't it? As for me, Mr. Ruan, I've never worried about whether a room could contain me. I'm more concerned about whether my opponent inside can withstand my presence."
His fist tightend for a brief moment before he loosened it, his tone still silky but edged with disdain. "Opponents? That's a heavy word for someone who has only just arrived at the table."
Li Ziqing's eyes lingered on Ruan Zeyuan's arrogant smile. Then, with the grace of someone entirely in control, she shifted the atmosphere without answering his arrogance.
Her lips curved faintly. "Mr. Zhou, Mr. Ruan," she said smoothly, "allow me to introduce someone by my side—Butler Yao."
The tall man behind her stepped forward with quiet composure, bowing slightly. His posture was straight, his movements precise, every detail radiating discipline and refinement.
Zhou Yichen blinked, caught off guard. A butler? In the month he had worked alongside Li Ziqing, he had never once heard her mention such a person. For a fleeting second, curiosity stirred in his chest, but he quickly concealed it beneath his polished smile.
He inclined his head politely. "So this is Butler Yao. A pleasure to meet you."
Butler Yao nodded in return, his voice calm yet firm. "The pleasure is mine, Mr. Zhou."
Zhou Yichen's sharp eyes flickered with approval. His first impression was undeniable—this was no ordinary servant. The man's gaze was steady, his bearing sophisticated, and his silence alone carried weight. Seems Intelligent, composed, dangerous if underestimated.
Li Ziqing then turned toward Butler Yao and with a polite smile said, "Mr. Zhou is the CEO of Huiheng Group, and I'm grateful to have him as my colleague."
Zhou Yichen chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Miss Li, you make it sound as if I've done you a great favor. In truth, working with you has been far more enlightening for me."
From the corner, Ruan Zeyuan's narrowed eyes lingered on the exchange, his smile fixed, polished—yet a faint twitch in his jaw betrayed what he truly thought. Is Zhou Yichen blind? Submitting to this little girl so easily? And her—sweet words, sugar-coated lies, calling an employee her colleague. Such theatrics.
But when he spoke, none of his disdain leaked through. Instead, his tone was smooth, effortless, dripping with courtesy.
"Well then, why don't we sit? Conversations of substance are better had in comfort."
He gestured gracefully toward the plush sofa where he and Zhou Yichen had been seated earlier.
Li Ziqing's lips curved slightly, unreadable, as she accepted the invitation. Butler Yao followed a half-step behind, silent as a shadow, his sharp gaze sweeping the room once before standing at ease nearby.
The three of them settled onto the sofa—Zhou Yichen on one side, Li Ziqing across from Ruan Zeyuan. Ruan Zeyuan than suddenly leaned forward, plucking the slender-necked decanter from the table. He poured the deep crimson liquid into three crystal glasses with deliberate grace, the light catching on the surface of the wine as though to highlight its richness.
He slid one glass toward Zhou Yichen, another toward himself. Then, with a glint of mischief—or was it challenge?—he placed the third directly before Li Ziqing.
"Butler Yao," Ruan Zeyuan said casually, swirling the dark wine in his glass. His voice carried a note of mockery, though his smile seemed pleasant enough. "I do hope your young miss is able to entertain her guest properly. Otherwise, perhaps you should take over."
Butler Yao's expression did not flicker, though a faint chill lingered in his eyes. "Miss Li has her own way of entertaining her guests, Mr. Ruan. You needn't worry. I assure you, you will not regret it."
Li Ziqing remained composed, unshaken by the deliberate provocation. After all, she had already studied the Five Confucian Principles, and one of them spoke of the art of wine tasting—not merely drinking. Her fingers brushed lightly against the stem of the untouched glass, but she did not raise it.
"Bordeaux from 1983?" she said softly, her tone measured and calm. "That was a warm year, if I recall correctly. A very dry summer. The tannins matured earlier than expected. The result was bold in body, but a touch too forward if opened too young. Now, of course, it has mellowed—rounder, more layered."
Ruan Zeyuan's hand froze mid-sip. His eyes narrowed, the faintest flash of surprise betraying him before his smile returned, sharper now. "Oh? Not many girls your age could tell the difference between tannins and tartness. You've studied?"
Li Ziqing tilted her head slightly, the corners of her lips curving with a quiet confidence. "Studied? Not exactly. I simply listen when people who know more speak. Knowledge doesn't always require indulgence."
Her words landed with the elegance of a silk-wrapped blade.
Zhou Yichen's lips twitched upward before he hid it behind his glass. Raising it, he offered lightly, "To listening, then."
Ruan Zeyuan ignored him, resting his chin on his palm as his gaze fixed on Li Ziqing. His tone dropped, heavier now, the mockery edged with challenge. "So you won't drink? Not even a sip? Some would call it disrespectful to refuse a guest's toast."
Butler Yao's voice cut smoothly, polite but firm. "Miss Li is fifteen, Mr. Ruan. Surely you wouldn't insist on pressing wine upon a child."
The air thickened, silence tightening like a rope.
Before it could snap, Li Ziqing herself lifted the glass. She did not drink, but tilted it slightly, letting the wine run down the crystal walls. She observed the slow legs, then gave the liquid a graceful swirl before setting it back down, untouched.
"Disrespect isn't in refusal," she said evenly. "It lies in pretending to enjoy what one cannot. I'd rather be honest in word than false in action."
Zhou Yichen exhaled quietly, admiration flickering across his gaze.
Ruan Zeyuan tapped the rim of his glass against the table. His smirk remained, but his eyes darkened, probing. "Quite the mouth you have, Miss Li. Sharp, but words are cheap. Actions—choices—those reveal truth. So tell me… this meeting tonight—wasn't it meant for business?"
Li Ziqing met his stare calmly, her tone almost light. "Business is always important. But you don't seem very eager to discuss it, Mr. Ruan. If you were, perhaps our meeting place would have been more… formal." Her gaze drifted deliberately toward the racetrack outside, where the thunder of hooves still echoed.
Zhou Yichen caught the subtle undertone immediately. He shook his head gently. "Miss Li, please don't overthink. A misunderstanding at the door shouldn't overshadow the purpose of tonight."
Ruan Zeyuan chuckled, though his eyes gleamed with something colder. "Ah, a misunderstanding? Interesting. You're right, Miss Li—there is one. In fact, this entire situation is a misunderstanding. Otherwise, why would my friend—one of the most sought-after men in the industry—lower himself to work for some unknown, newly formed company? So tell me, Miss Li, what magic did you use to ensnare him?"
Zhou Yichen stiffened, his jaw tightening, but he spoke before Li Ziqing could answer. "Zeyuan, what the hell are you talking about? I've already told you—I work here by my own choice. Who says I must always serve established firms? Sometimes vision is enough. Miss Li sees things… differently."
Ruan Zeyuan gave a low laugh, though his eyes sharpened to a blade's edge. "Vision? Don't insult me, Yichen. Vision doesn't pay dividends. Capability does. And forgive me, Miss Li, but what capability do you have to make him give up his throne?"
Li Ziqing did not falter. Her voice was steady, her gaze unwavering. "Capability takes many forms. Some inherit it, some build it, and some… prove it when the time comes. Perhaps Mr. Zhou believes I belong to the latter."
Zhou Yichen inclined his head, his tone firm. "Don't underestimate yourself, Miss Li. That's your strength—you build quietly, but you deliver firmly. That's why I chose to stand with you."
By now, Ruan Zeyuan's smirk had thinned into something colder, irritation creeping across his features. "So loyal already? That's unlike you, Yichen. You've always valued independence. To kneel under someone's banner…" He turned his glare back on Li Ziqing. "What exactly did you promise him?"
Li Ziqing folded her hands neatly on her lap, her smile calm, but steel glinted in her words. "I promised nothing. Promises fade. Convictions endure. If Mr. Zhou saw conviction in me, I can only be honored. As for kneeling—" she leaned forward slightly, her eyes locking with his, "—not everyone views leadership as chains."
The tension snapped like a drawn bowstring.
Ruan Zeyuan sneered, ready to retort, but Zhou Yichen's voice cut across, sharp and commanding. "Zeyuan, enough. You know me well. If I chose this path, it's not out of impulse. It's because I see value. Don't belittle her before you've seen what she can build. Don't forget the real purpose I called you here tonight."
The words struck harder than a slap.
For a moment, the mask slipped from Ruan Zeyuan's face, revealing raw frustration. Betrayal stung his voice as he growled, "Yichen, do you even realize I'm doing this for you? You've been speaking nonsense since we arrived. What spell has this little girl cast over your mind? What building? What conviction? Do you think building a conglomerate is child's play? Generations bleed for it! And you—" his voice rose, trembling with anger, "—you think you'll achieve it alongside this fifteen-year-old child? You're nearly thirty, Yichen! Use your own damn brain!"
The air in the lounge seemed to tighten, every word echoing with invisible weight.
Li Ziqing's voice was calm, almost delicate, but each syllable carried a sharpness that cut deeper than a shout.
"Mr. Ruan, is your problem with me… my age?"
Ruan Zeyuan snapped his gaze toward her, scoffing, lips curling into disdain. "Isn't it obvious? You're a child! A little girl playing dress-up, daring to speak of vision and conviction as though you've lived long enough to understand what those words mean."
For a heartbeat, Li Ziqing fell silent. Not lived long enough? Perhaps he was right—her years were few. But what did he know of nights spent clawing through despair, of being battered by fate until the only choice left was to rise or perish? Her eyes lingered on him, studying the smoothness of his skin, the gym-toned figure, the polished nails free of calluses—signs of a life pampered, untouched by hardship. And this man dares to question me?
Her lips curved into a sneer, quiet but unmistakable. "And yet, here you are—arguing with a child. Doesn't that say more about you than me?"
His jaw tightened, anger flashing in his eyes. "Don't twist words with me. I've seen people twice my age fail in this game. Do you think you'll succeed simply because you have pretty speeches and… a pretty face?"
"But isn't that precisely why you're unsettled?" she countered smoothly, her gaze unwavering. "Because despite my age, despite your doubts, Mr. Zhou chose to stand with me. Conviction recognizes conviction, no matter the years."
"You're arrogant," Ruan Zeyuan spat, his hand trembling against the stem of his glass. "Blind arrogance dressed up as humility."
Li Ziqing rested her hands neatly in her lap, posture regal despite her youth. "Or perhaps it is you, Mr. Ruan, who cannot stomach being challenged by someone younger. Tell me—if I were thirty, would you rage so loudly? Or is it only because I remind you that experience does not always equal wisdom?"
Zhou Yichen stirred as if to interject, but Ruan Zeyuan cut him off, voice rising with raw irritation. "Wisdom without scars is worthless! You haven't fallen, haven't lost, haven't built anything with your own blood and sweat. Don't lecture me!"
Li Ziqing's eyes shimmered faintly red. Without scars? Did he think her path was paved with roses? Life had beaten her down, crushed her, forced her to rise from the ashes more than once. She wasn't building for indulgence or luxury—she was building a fortress, a shield for those she loved, a power great enough to stand against the hidden blades that threatened her family. Her hands trembled at her side, not from weakness but from fury contained, and when she spoke, her voice was iron.
"Then let me learn," she said evenly, each word hammered with conviction. "If failure is the measure of wisdom, then let failure come. I will face it. But until then, I will not bow—neither to you, nor to anyone—simply because they believe I should."
Ruan Zeyuan's laugh was harsh, ringing with disbelief. "You speak as if this world will bend to your ideals. It won't. It will crush you, Miss Li. Grind you into dust. And when it does, not even Yichen will be able to pull you out."
Li Ziqing's fury broke its chains, her voice lashing out like lightning. "Then let the world try!"
Her eyes burned, not with helpless tears but with a fire too sharp for her age, her trembling hands clenched but her stance unyielding. The aura she radiated in that moment—unyielding, defiant, immovable—crashed into the room like a storm tide.
Ruan Zeyuan blinked, stunned to his core. He hadn't expected such force, such presence, from someone so young. Even Zhou Yichen's lips parted, struck silent. Butler Yao, whose face rarely betrayed emotion, was shaken, his eyes reflecting a rare spark of awe.
Li Ziqing's voice cut through the silence again, steady, resolute. "Storms do not frighten me, Mr. Ruan. Let them come. If I crumble, so be it—I will rise again. But if I endure, if I stand through every gale and thunder, then I will not just survive—I will command. And the world you say will crush me? One day, it will have no choice but to acknowledge me."
Her declaration lingered in the air, every syllable sinking like a blade.
Even Ruan Zeyuan could not immediately form words. Fury and disbelief warred in his chest. How could a fifteen-year-old girl, barely stepping into society, wield such conviction, such fire?
He clenched his fists under the table, forcing his expression back into a mask of arrogance. After a long silence, his lips twisted into a smirk, though his eyes blazed.
"Fine," he said at last, voice low and sharp. "Words are cheap, as I've said before. If you want me to take you seriously, prove it. Not with pretty speeches, but with action."
Li Ziqing didn't reply immediately. She only watched him, letting him finish.
Ruan Zeyuan leaned forward, his voice dripping disdain. "Don't you like to talk big? To do things no one your age would dare? So confident. So arrogant. Then prove it. Show me what you've got."
There was a long, suffocating silence before Ruan Zeyuan leaned back, his lips curling into a sharp smile.
"Let's set something more challenging," he drawled, his gaze drifting toward the floor-to-ceiling windows. Beyond the glass, the roar of engines had just died down, the previous race concluding in a cloud of smoke and cheering. His eyes gleamed with a predatory edge. "Something adventurous. Something that makes the blood race."
He turned back, eyes locking onto Li Ziqing. "Don't worry, I won't throw you into anything life-threatening. Just… a simple race. Nothing more. Consider it the first storm you claim you can face. Let's see if your grand words about conviction and vision amount to anything when the wheel is in your hands."
The words hit like a whip.
Butler Yao's composure finally cracked, his voice a thunderclap. "Mr. Ruan, you are crossing the line. Miss Li is only fifteen years old! She doesn't even know how to drive—and you want her to race?"
Zhou Yichen's face darkened with fury, his regret gnawing at him like acid. He shot up from the sofa. "Ruan Zeyuan! What the hell are you doing? What are you trying to prove here?" His voice quivered with restrained anger. "I called you to Wuhan as a friend, thinking you would see reason, perhaps even lend your strength. But now you—" he cut himself off, fists trembling. "Stop this nonsense immediately."
Ruan Zeyuan's eyes slid lazily toward Zhou Yichen, amusement flickering in their depths. "Earlier, Yichen, everything I said and did was for your sake. As a friend. I didn't want to see you waste your talent, tied down in Wuhan, serving an unknown company under a little girl who barely knows the weight of the world."
His gaze snapped back to Li Ziqing, narrowing like a blade honing in on its mark. "But now, it's no longer about you." His smile was thin, dangerous. "This girl… she has quite the talent for needling me. Since she seems to adore challenges so much, I am merely offering her one. Isn't that right, Miss Li?"
Zhou Yichen stiffened, ready to step in again, but it was unnecessary.
Li Ziqing sat perfectly still, her expression calm, almost serene, as though Ruan Zeyuan's taunts were no more than ripples across a still pond. Not fear, not hesitation—simply silence.
Inside, however, a faint sense of relief unfurled. Yesterday, she had questioned the system about its rewards. Why had it granted her the "Phantom Wheel Mastery coupan" a coupan that allowed her to command any vehicle with flawless mastery? She had dismissed it then as odd, unnecessary. But now… she saw its purpose. The system always gave what she needed, precisely when she needed it.
[Ding… Didn't I say so, Host? All rewards and tasks are tailored according to your needs. Every move has been calculated.]
Her lips curved in a small, unseen smile, her thoughts murmuring thanks to the system.
Outwardly, however, she remained silent—still, unblinking.
Ruan Zeyuan mistook her calm for fear, and his smirk deepened. He leaned forward, voice dripping with condescension. "You don't need to feel pressured, Miss Li. It's understandable. A fifteen-year-old girl, racing? Someone who's never touched a wheel?" He chuckled coldly, shaking his head. "No, no… you don't have to go through with it."
He let the pause stretch, then struck like a dagger. "Just apologize."
Butler Yao's eyes blazed, but Li Ziqing lifted a hand, halting him before he could speak.
Ruan Zeyuan continued, his words laced with arrogant finality. "This is precisely what I've been telling you for the last half hour. Challenges are not toys to be picked up at will. Storms are not for little girls to test their umbrellas against. Sometimes, you must accept your limits. Even Zhou Yichen can't shield you from them forever. So take my advice: stop pretending to be something you're not. Forget about building companies or bossing people around. Focus on your studies, learn a little patience… and leave the world of storms to those who are born to weather them."
Each word from Ruan Zeyuan had been sharp, deliberate, meant to wound. Yet Li Ziqing's composure did not falter. Instead, her calm voice sliced through the air with quiet finality.
"A race, then."
The room froze.
For a heartbeat, no one moved, no one breathed. Even Ruan Zeyuan's arrogant smile faltered, draining from his face and leaving only stunned disbelief. He hadn't truly intended to race with this girl—his words were a trap, a provocation designed to put her in her place. Yet here she was, not only unshaken, but agreeing?
He opened his mouth, but before sound could form, Li Ziqing continued, her gaze steady. "But a challenge without stakes is like a lake without water. Hollow. Meaningless. So, Mr. Ruan…" Her lips curved in the faintest smile. "Shall we raise the bar?"
Ruan Zeyuan blinked, caught off guard. For the first time in years, words stumbled out of him. "W-what did you say? You… you agreed?"
Li Ziqing chuckled lightly, as though his disbelief amused her. "Indeed, Mr. Ruan. I accept your challenge."
The casual certainty in her tone reignited his temper, burning away his shock. His jaw tightened, his voice snapping out like a whip. "Very well! You want stakes? I'll give you stakes."
He leaned forward, eyes blazing. "If you win, I'll serve you for an entire year. Whatever you ask of me, I'll do it—free of charge. I'll be your slave, your tool. But if I win—" his voice sharpened, heavy with arrogance, "—you will kneel before me and apologize. Not only that, you'll release Zhou Yichen. He walks free from your… childish ambitions."
The air thickened with tension. Zhou Yichen's brows drew together in fury, but Li Ziqing raised a hand to still him.
Her voice was calm, unhurried, yet carried the weight of iron. "Deal."
A slow, dangerous smirk crept back onto Ruan Zeyuan's face. "Deal."
From beyond the closed door, two silent figures had been listening. Shen Zeyan and Gao Boheng exchanged glances, their expressions equally unreadable yet equally shaken.
Gao Boheng finally exhaled, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "This little girl… she really is something else."
Shen Zeyan's gaze however, gleamed with something deeper—interest, because he felt the voice of that little girl inside familiar. "She is indeed… intriguing."