WMSR – QT Chapter 26

 

WMSR – QT Chapter 26

By

siofra

Chapter 26

On the flip side, although Song Junchi—who likewise kept a hawk-like watch over developments from the sidelines—frequently itched to throw up roadblocks or trip him up, he was forced to restrain himself. With Su Yuanhang operating right under Bai Yichen’s watchful gaze, Song Junchi dared not pull any obvious stunts. Coupled with Su Yuanhang’s innate, razor-sharp vigilance, his business empire expanded with remarkably smooth momentum.

Time flowed like water. In the blink of an eye, another five years slipped past. Five years of trials had stripped away the lingering greenness of fresh graduates, carving all three of them into mature, established men.

Over this half-decade, both Bai Yichen and Song Junchi had firmly entrenched themselves as the practical, driving helmsmen of their respective family conglomerates. The relentless drive and modern strategic vision of this younger generation propelled the Bai and Song enterprises into an era of soaring prosperity.

Though Song Weiguo relinquished the reins slightly later than Bai Jinchuan, he still proudly claimed the title of the second senior statesman in their crony circle to retire early into a life of leisurely luxury. Sharing the exact same fate as Bai Jinchuan, he was promptly branded a public enemy of the old boys’ club.

To this, Song Weiguo not only remained entirely unbothered, but positively basked in the glory. After all, he knew full well that those crusty old friends—each saddled with a useless pack of good-for-nothing heirs—were merely drowning in a bottomless sea of bitter envy and jealousy.

Come to think of it, the old adage about proximity breeding influence held a grain of truth. The fact that his son had spent his formative years glued to the hip of the Bai household’s golden boy had evidently paid dividends. Look at that—among the entire crop of elite juniors, aside from the peerless Bai prodigy himself, their own household yielded the most stellar crop!

Song Weiguo casually attributed his son’s sweat-soaked accomplishments entirely to the passive benefits of good company. Had Song Junchi caught wind of that rationale, he might have wept. Yet the far more probable outcome was that he would have rejoiced, pocketing it as yet another ironclad justification to cling even tighter to Bai Yichen’s side—all while resting easy in the knowledge that his old man wouldn’t suspect a single ulterior motive.

A crystal-clear mirror reflected a cool, pristine male visage. The sharply refined features possessed a striking perfection that managed to avoid any trace of effeminacy; deep, bottomless obsidian pupils contrasted sharply against cold-jade skin, instantly triggering an involuntary jolt of absolute awe in anyone who caught a glimpse. One word alone defined the impression: breathtaking.

Su Yuanhang stared at his reflection, clad head-to-toe in a sleek black tailcoat, raising a hand to smooth down a professionally styled haircut designed to maximize his visual appeal. Despite his outward facade, his heart was far from calm.

Finally. The day he had waited for had arrived.

The day he had earned, through sheer blood and grit, the qualification to walk into Chen-gege’s world standing on his own two feet.

At that exact moment, a soft chime sounded behind him as a stunning female assistant draped in a breathtaking evening gown stepped into the dressing room, respectfully announcing, “President Su, it’s almost time. We should head out.”

Su Yuanhang gave a slow nod. Yet, lingering before the mirror, an unexpected impulse made him unconsciously turn back to seek verification: “How do I look today?”

Abruptly hit with the query, the assistant—who had been entirely mentally preoccupied with transit schedules and itinerary checklists—lifted her head in surprise. That was the moment she truly registered her boss’s styling for the evening. Though she had always known her employer possessed drop-dead gorgeous looks, a fresh wave of blinding admiration still flared in her chest. Of course, given that they crossed paths daily, she quickly reined it in, maintaining professional composure as she replied, “President Su will undoubtedly be the most handsome man in the entire venue.”

Hearing that, Su Yuanhang let out a self-deprecating chuckle and shook his head: “That’s hardly a guarantee.” Still, her reassuring words clearly fortified his confidence. With the banquet window fast approaching, he decided against lingering further: “Let’s move out.”

“Underway.” The assistant hurried to keep pace. Yet as they navigated toward the private elevator, her eyes flicked to the tall, straight silhouette striding ahead, a faint knot of confusion tightening in her chest. Something feels off about the boss today. He was normally an absolute workaholic—when on earth had he ever started fussing this obsessively over his personal appearance? Could it be because today’s banquet operated on such an exceptionally high-tier scale?

Weighing the thought, she tentatively settled on that as her working hypothesis. After all, this marked their company’s inaugural formal invitation to a gathering of this caliber—a major milestone in expanding their corporate footprint. No wonder the boss had gone out of his way to get a full makeover; even she had spent a grueling several hours pulling her entire ensemble together. Whatever the case, she needed to bring her A-game tonight; who knew, maybe their firm could hook a few whale-sized strategic partners before the night was through.

Having successfully reasoned away her lingering doubts, the dedicated assistant puffed out her chest with renewed energy, stepping forward into the glittering night with eager anticipation for the banquet ahead.

Naturally, this hyper-industrious beauty remained blissfully ignorant that her boss’s internal monologue was currently orbiting an entirely different planetary system.

Inside the opulent, sprawling banquet hall, soft melodies drifted through the air while impeccably attired business elites drifted between clusters, swirling wine glasses and conversing with refined grace. Yet a closer survey of the room revealed several invisible focal points of gravity—hubs anchored by genuine titans of the A City commercial sphere. While the majority of attendees circulated with an air of casual leisure, their underlying trajectories subtly orbited those central power centers. After all, this was a high-stakes commercial mixer; nobody had actually dressed up just to graze on finger foods and unwind.

At one of those primary epicenters, two tall, slender figures stood side-by-side in deep conversation, their easy, practiced posture telegraphing a bond forged in enduring intimacy.

Compared to the guarded, calculating gazes directed toward the other VIP clusters, the stares locked onto this specific hub were far more numerous—and infinitely more scorching. In particular, the female companions dragged along in tow by various wealthy magnates practically froze in their tracks the second their eyes snagged on the pair. The reason was painfully simple: both men were blindingly, dazzlingly radiant. Never in their wildest dreams had they anticipated encountering specimens of this caliber at a high-spec corporate mixer. They made high-end celebrities look pedestrian—no, mainstream stars fell short by entire league tiers when it came to raw, effortless presence. When they caught their own dates nervously stepping forward with wine glasses raised in stiff, obsequious greetings, those sharp-eyed socialites instantly picked up on the hidden layers of groveling sycophancy, causing their eyes to light up with predatory brilliance.

A man who was devastatingly handsome possessed a magnetic pull entirely distinct from a man who was both devastatingly handsome and obscenely wealthy—let alone stumbling into a double-header right out of the gate.

The sole nagging regret haunting them was that no matter how aggressively they flashed seductive glances or dropped blatant sub-signals while their dates paid homage, neither of the two men registered their existence. One of them maintained a pleasant, spring-breeze smile, though anyone could tell his gaze merely skimmed over their figures without processing a single detail—his eyes dismissed them with the exact same indifferent neutrality he would accord a pillar or a potted plant. As for the other? For reasons unknown, the harder they batted their eyelashes, the more glacial and terrifying his expression grew, until it eventually radiated such bone-chilling frost that they didn’t even dare sustain eye contact.