East Hampton.
After earning her driver's license, Wei Chenci had taken a liking to driving herself around. Carefully gripping the steering wheel, she spoke to Yun Cailing, who was sitting in the passenger seat as they headed out for a shopping trip.
The two girls weren't particularly close, but Wei Chenci had planned to buy some essentials and coincidentally bumped into Yun Cailing, who also needed to head out. They decided to share a car, with their two female bodyguards sitting in the backseat.
Naturally, the topic of their conversation was the recent sensation caused by the Book of Songs performance.
In China, after CCTV expressed interest in covering the event, the network had recorded footage of one of the Wednesday shows earlier this week. Some of the clips broadcast included Wei Chenci's solo performance of Jianjia.
Feeling the excitement in Wei Chenci's tone, Yun Cailing smiled and asked, "Did you tell your family about us going back to China for the New Year?"
"Of course! I looked it up. Our last performance is on January 11th, and that's only the third day of the Chinese New Year. We'll definitely be back before Laba Festival."
"I meant…" Yun Cailing hesitated before asking, "Are you really looking forward to going back to China?"
Wei Chenci blinked. "Why wouldn't I?"
"Well," Yun Cailing sighed. "I don't want to go back. Even though I didn't appear on Xinwen Lianbo (China Central Television's flagship news program), my family already knows about things here. They keep asking if I can come home for the New Year or bring some gifts. It's annoying."
Wei Chenci looked puzzled. "It's just buying some presents; what's the big deal?"
"Do you have siblings?" Yun Cailing asked in return.
"Yes," Wei Chenci nodded. "I have two older brothers."
"No wonder," Yun Cailing said with a small sigh. Though she didn't know Wei Chenci well, it was clear the girl had been well-protected her entire life. "I'm different. I'm the eldest in my family, with a younger brother and sister. Ever since I came to the U.S., my dad has been talking about wanting me to help my brother come here to study. But how could I possibly make that happen? I'm not planning to go back. And honestly, most of the girls here feel the same. It's just too much trouble."
Wei Chenci wasn't naive. Aside from occasionally getting lost, she was quite sharp. She quickly grasped what Yun Cailing was hinting at and asked, "So you're not planning to go back at all?"
"We'll see. My parents have always favored my brother. They're parents, so they can play favorites if they want, but I don't owe them anything." Yun Cailing glanced at her companion. "I envy you, though. Being the youngest, with two older brothers, you must have been spoiled at home."
"Not really," Wei Chenci replied. "When my mom sent me to learn dance at six, she was so strict. I cried my way into dance classes every day at first."
"Who didn't? But if not for that, we wouldn't have made it to the U.S."
"That's true."
As they chatted, Wei Chenci turned onto the path leading to the Guofeng Art Troupe's residence. Both of them were immediately drawn to the commotion at the entrance.
From a distance, it appeared to be a young woman kneeling by the gate, surrounded by a few of the estate's female guards and some of the troupe's members.
As they drove closer, the situation became clearer.
After parking, both girls got out and recognized the kneeling woman as Feng Cai Fan—or rather, Feng Chuo, her original name, as both her stage name and jade pendant had been confiscated when she left. The two female guards stationed at the gate were trying to help her up, but the girl kept crying and refusing to stand. The guards, unwilling to use force, could only stand by awkwardly.
Most of the girls in the troupe already knew about Feng Chuo's predicament.
She had once confidently left the troupe after getting involved with a supposedly wealthy boyfriend. Their relationship progressed quickly, even to the point of discussing marriage. However, she was soon dumped. Worse, the man had swindled her out of her savings—not a large amount, but enough to leave her broke. With no job, no money, and nowhere to live, it wasn't surprising she had returned here today.
Watching the disheveled girl, Yun Cailing felt a pang of self-awareness. She tugged on Wei Chenci's sleeve. "Let's go inside."
Wei Chenci hesitated briefly before stepping forward. "Have you notified Mrs. Davis?" she asked one of the female guards.
The tall, blonde-haired guard nodded. "We've already called her." She then turned back to Feng Chuo. "Feng, please get up. You can come inside with us."
But Feng Chuo didn't move.
After lingering a moment longer, Wei Chenci realized she couldn't do much and started to head back to the car. Just then, the sound of a helicopter landing on the estate's lawn caught her attention.
It was probably Mrs. Davis arriving. Pausing in thought, Wei Chenci decided to stay a little longer, considering she might be able to say a few words for Feng Chuo.
Her resolve wavered, however, when she saw who emerged from the house—it wasn't Mrs. Davis, but Chen Qing.
Dressed in a black trench coat, Chen Qing approached briskly with a few assistants in tow. She ignored the kneeling Feng Chuo at first, instead scanning the gathered onlookers. "What's so interesting about this flower blooming at our front gate that it's drawn all of you out here?" she asked sarcastically.
Chen Qing's biting tone made Wei Chenci shrink slightly. Feeling Yun Cailing tug on her sleeve again, she followed her companion toward the main entrance, avoiding even glancing at the car parked nearby.
The other girls quickly scattered as well.
With just a few words, Chen Qing had cleared the area. She dismissed the female guards standing by the gate and then turned her attention to Feng Chuo. "Didn't you find your happiness? Why are you back here?"
Tears streamed down Feng Chuo's face as she pleaded, "Sister Chen, I was wrong. Can you talk to Mr. Westeros and ask him to take me back?"
Chen Qing squinted at her. "You're already so pretty, and now you want things to go your way? Aren't you afraid of being struck by lightning?"
Feng Chuo hung her head, crying harder. "Sister Chen, please. I know I was wrong."
"Begging me is useless. I'm not as soft-hearted as the boss," Chen Qing said. Seeing a glimmer of hope in Feng Chuo's eyes, she sneered. "Too bad you'll never get another chance to see him."
Feng Chuo broke into sobs again.
Frowning in frustration, Chen Qing finally relented, albeit reluctantly. "Stop making a scene. Get up. Come with me."
Feng Chuo's body stiffened, but she didn't move.
Chen Qing's patience wore thin. "Or should I call the police to escort you off the property? This is private land now. You can't just throw tantrums here like in China. Are you coming or not?"
Her tone grew sharper at the end, and Feng Chuo flinched. Seeing Chen Qing turn to leave, she scrambled to her feet and followed.
Chen Qing didn't linger at the estate. She immediately boarded the waiting helicopter with Feng Chuo.
Once the helicopter was airborne, Feng Chuo, sitting quietly beside Chen Qing, finally asked in a low voice, "Sister Chen, where… where are we going?"
Chen Qing, now holding a document in her hand, didn't even look up. "I'm sending you back to China."
"What?" Feng Chuo's voice trembled as she instinctively stood, panic written all over her face.
Chen Qing glanced at her sidelong. "You're lucky. When this was reported, I happened to be with the boss. He told me to send you back—wherever you came from. Otherwise, do you think I'd waste my time on you? Showing up at the troupe's gate like this—you're asking for trouble."
Feng Chuo fell to her knees in the aisle, tears streaming down her face again. "Sister Chen, I was wrong. Please, let me see Mr. Westeros."
Chen Qing scoffed and shifted slightly away from her, clearly annoyed. "Don't touch me. Look at yourself. If you dirty my clothes, you couldn't afford to replace them. And forget about the boss. You'd have a better chance of meeting the U.S. president than him."
Feng Chuo's sobs grew louder.
"Shut up!" Chen Qing snapped, her voice laced with irritation. "Keep quiet."
Feng Chuo sniffled but didn't stop crying entirely.
Chen Qing sighed in exasperation. "Do you know why Chris dumped you and took your money?"
The question caught Feng Chuo off guard, silencing her. She looked up hesitantly, waiting for Chen Qing to continue.
"It's simple," Chen Qing said coldly. "The boss didn't care about your situation, but I did. I made a few calls. One of them went to a bank that handles loans for Chris's family. I told them to either have him dump you or repay their loan early. Guess what? They didn't even
hesitate. They not only had Chris get rid of you but also called to apologize to me. Your so-called perfect match? He couldn't even stand up to a single phone call."
Feng Chuo froze, her tear-streaked face turning pale. A hint of resentment flickered in her gaze as she looked at Chen Qing.
Noticing the change in Feng Chuo's expression, Chen Qing smirked. "Are you angry? Fine. Here's your chance—fight me right now. Try to strangle me if you can."
Feng Chuo flinched and quickly avoided Chen Qing's gaze.
Chen Qing shrugged nonchalantly. "This is your only chance. Miss it, and you'll never be able to do anything again. Oh, and if you don't want to go back to China, that's fine too. I'll get scolded by the boss, but you can try to make it in America. See if you can turn your life around in thirty years. Let's think about what you could do. Aside from dancing, you're a middle-school dropout who probably can't even speak decent English. What kind of career do you think you could have here?"
Feng Chuo remained silent.
The question hit her like a dagger. If she hadn't been completely desperate, she wouldn't have shown up at the troupe's gate today.
After a moment, Chen Qing added, "Maybe I'll be kind enough to help you find a job. Nothing too lowly like washing dishes—how about dancing at a club? One of those clubs. The pay is decent. Interested?"
Feng Chuo shook her head furiously. "I don't want that."
"Then tell me," Chen Qing sneered. "What can you do?"
Feng Chuo bit her lip, silent again. After a long pause, she finally muttered, "Sister Chen… I didn't sleep with him. He wanted to, but I refused. I told him we'd wait until after we were married."
Chen Qing merely snorted in derision.
Feng Chuo waited, hoping for a reaction, but when none came, her composure crumbled, and she began sobbing once more.
Chen Qing didn't respond again.
Ten minutes later, the helicopter landed on a helipad near the East River.
Chen Qing stepped off the aircraft, her phone pressed to her ear as she walked toward the riverfront railing. She was juggling a call with Emmanuel Brandt in San Francisco about setting up a DVD production line for Step-by-Step, all while trying to manage her frustration. She had been pulled away from a Westeros Company investment meeting with Chinese representatives and still had to prepare for a reception for China Telecom's roadshow team later that evening.
In short, her day was packed.
As she gestured for an assistant to escort Feng Chuo to the waiting car, she continued her conversation at the railing.
Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a figure stumble toward the edge—and then plunge into the river.
Splash.
An hour later, as evening set in.
Back at his Fifth Avenue apartment, Simon was relaxing on the couch when Chen Qing stormed in, looking teary-eyed and frazzled. Without hesitation, she flopped onto the couch beside him and wrapped herself around him like a pitiful kitten.
"Boss," she whimpered. "You almost lost me today. I could've died!"
Simon sighed, wrapping an arm around her wriggling form and patting her back. "You pushed someone to the point of jumping into the river, and now you're playing the victim? That's a bit much."
"But boss, I really was scared," Chen Qing whined.
"Alright, alright," Simon said, resigned. "You don't need to deal with this anymore. Let Ah Su handle it."
Chen Qing immediately protested. "No way! That girl dared to scare me like that. I have to teach her a lesson."
"Well, it looks like I can't stop you," Simon replied with a shake of his head. "But if something happens and someone dies, I'll have to call your dad. Not even the $120,000 outfit you're wearing will save you from his wrath."
"Huh?" Chen Qing blinked in shock. She quickly glanced around the room, her gaze landing on Lin Su, who had just walked in with a set of suits, accompanied by the housekeeper Angela and Carmen Kass. "Did you rat me out?" she accused.
Lin Su rolled her eyes. "It was Sister Mo who told me, and she insisted I inform the boss."
"That's so cruel," Chen Qing pouted, twisting around to cling to Simon again. "Boss, the women around you are so mean. They're all bullying me."
Simon gave her a light flick on the forehead. "Be grateful if you're not bullying them. Now, go change. We're heading to the reception."
Chen Qing pretended to cry out in pain but reluctantly sat up. Wrapping her arms around Simon's neck, she grumbled, "Boss, there's no need for you to attend this kind of event. Just sending a few executives from Cersei Capital would be enough."
She locked eyes with Simon, her curiosity evident.
Simon, aware of her perceptiveness, decided not to hide the truth. He leaned closer and whispered a name into her ear. "Keep an eye on him in the future—it'll pay off."
Chen Qing understood that Simon had multiple channels of influence in China and didn't press for more details. Instead, she nodded seriously and shot Lin Su a smug look. "The boss just told me a secret."
Lin Su, curious but restrained, chose not to ask further, especially with Angela and Carmen present.
It was already Friday, December 13th.
China Telecom's team had traveled from Europe to North America, wrapping up a two-week global roadshow. Thanks to its association with the Westeros brand, the company had secured over three times its target funding—a stark contrast to its near-failure in the original timeline due to the Asian Financial Crisis.
With the roadshow successfully concluded, China Telecom had set its IPO date for December 19th.
Incidentally, today also marked the start of the holiday film season. Simon had chosen not to return to the West Coast for the Jumanji premiere, instead prioritizing the evening's reception for China Telecom. While the event didn't strictly require his presence, Simon's attendance was a calculated move for long-term benefits.
In simple terms, China's state-owned enterprises followed clear hierarchies.
Over the next few decades, some would rise, others would fall, and Simon had the foresight to identify emerging trends. With this advantage, he wasn't about to let any opportunities slip away.
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