Li Ziqing turned slightly—and froze.
A tall, broad-shouldered foreigner stood a few paces away, dressed impeccably in a tailored navy suit that fit his frame like it was cut for him alone. His hair was chestnut blond, neatly styled, and his sharp blue eyes seemed to glint beneath the sun. He looked like he had just walked out of a European business magazine.
The moment his gaze landed on Li Ziqing, his eyes widened—so much so that for an instant she thought they might pop out of their sockets.
"Beautiful… divine…" he murmured under his breath, almost in awe.
The words slipped out before he could stop them. A heartbeat later, his expression shifted, and he straightened abruptly, bowing slightly with visible embarrassment.
"Forgive me, Miss Li. That was… terribly blunt of me." His Mandarin was fluent, crisp, and carried only the faintest foreign lilt.
Li Ziqing blinked, momentarily taken aback. She hadn't expected this foreign man to speak the language so naturally—it was even more polished than many locals. A faint surprise flickered in her eyes, but her expression remained composed.
"It's fine," she said lightly, though her tone carried an understated coolness.
The man placed a hand to his chest. "Allow me to formally introduce myself. I am Andrew Collins, the property manager of Yunqi Shanzhuang." He extended his hand politely.
Li Ziqing accepted the gesture with the barest touch of her fingertips before pulling away. Her gaze was calm, her posture elegant, giving nothing away.
Andrew's smile faltered for a fraction of a second. Though he had prepared himself for this moment since receiving the unbelievable call three weeks ago, seeing the actual owner of Tianyuan No. 1 in the flesh was another matter entirely.
This girl… could she really be the one?
It didn't make sense. He knew every detail of this project, down to the last stone. Yunqi Shanzhuang had been completed five years ago, its reputation cemented as the most exclusive villa community in Wuhan. The villas sold out one by one, snapped up by the wealthiest families in the country. All—except Tianyuan No. 1.
That crown jewel had remained unsold. Too extravagant, too intimidating, too expensive even for the richest of the rich. At four hundred million yuan, it was not just a villa, but a declaration.
Yet three weeks ago, Andrew had received the impossible news: Tianyuan No. 1 had been purchased—quietly, without fanfare. Shocked, he had flown in from Beijing immediately and stationed himself here, waiting.
And now, standing before him, was a young girl. Elegant, yes. Poised, certainly. But still a girl.
He tried to mask his doubt, though a flicker of uncertainty crossed his expression before he caught himself.
"Miss Li," Andrew said smoothly, "the rules here do not permit taxis to enter the community. I've arranged a service vehicle for you. If you don't mind, I will personally drive you to your villa."
Li Ziqing arched a brow slightly at his impeccable courtesy. Her dark eyes flickered, noting the way he carried himself, the way his words carefully concealed disbelief. But she said nothing, merely inclining her head.
"Very well."
Andrew gestured toward the sleek vehicle parked nearby—a glossy black Rolls-Royce Cullinan, polished to perfection. Its imposing frame gleamed under the sunlight, radiating understated luxury and power.
"Please," he said, stepping forward to open the rear passenger door himself.
Li Ziqing, without hesitation, slid gracefully into the leather interior. The faint scent of oak and fine leather wrapped around her instantly.
Andrew circled to the driver's seat. Before starting the engine, he cast one last glance at the girl in the rearview mirror, his thoughts a whirl of disbelief and curiosity.
This is the owner of Tianyuan No. 1? A girl who looks barely fifteen? Just who exactly are you, Miss Li…
Li Ziqing, however, didn't notice his gaze. Her own eyes were fixed outside the window, already lost in her thoughts, her mind turning quietly toward the villa that awaited her.
The Rolls-Royce Cullinan glided smoothly along the winding private road. Sunlight filtered through the dense canopy of ancient trees, scattering golden patterns across the glossy hood. The silence inside the car was broken only by the faint hum of the engine—until Andrew Collins spoke.
"Miss Li," he began, his voice warm, professional, yet tinged with reverence, "since this is your first time here, allow me to properly introduce you to Yunqi Shanzhuang."
Li Ziqing shifted her gaze from the window to the rearview mirror, where Andrew's eyes briefly met hers before returning to the road.
"This community is the crown jewel of Wuhan's real estate," Andrew continued. "Over three hundred acres of private land, with only twenty five villas built across it. Each villa has been designed to ensure maximum privacy. Even standing at the gates of one, you'll never glimpse your neighbor's residence."
"Twenty five?" Li Ziqing murmured, brows knitting. She had seen large residential areas before, but this scale was beyond imagination.
Andrew nodded. "Yes. Every villa comes with exclusive access to our facilities—an underground wine cellar with vintages from across the globe, a private art gallery, equestrian grounds, even a personal helicopter pad for certain estates. And, of course, round-the-clock security. No outsider can enter without authorization."
Li Ziqing listened quietly, her slender fingers curling against her lap. The details he spoke of sounded more like the amenities of a royal palace than a residential community.
Andrew's tone grew lighter, but his words carried weight. "As for Tianyuan No. 1… that is not merely a villa. It is the pride of Yunqi Shanzhuang, built with imported materials, crafted by master architects from Europe and Japan. A three-story residence with its own private lake, mountain view, and an interior worth more than some entire properties in Beijing. Frankly speaking, Miss Li… it is the most expensive private residence in Wuhan. Perhaps even in all of Central China."
Li Ziqing stiffened, her lips parting slightly in shock. She had known the villa was valuable—after all, the System would never reward her with something ordinary—but this? She hadn't expected it to be the most expensive property in Wuhan.
Andrew glanced at her through the mirror, misinterpreting her silence as doubt. "I understand it must sound overwhelming, but everything has already been arranged for you. A full household staff is awaiting your arrival—your personal butler, four maids, two chefs, a gardener, and two guards trained in security detail. All vetted and loyal. They've been instructed to serve only you."
Li Ziqing's eyes flickered, intrigue breaking through her usual calm. A butler? Guards? A full staff? It was almost absurd—like something out of a television drama about heiresses. She suppressed the urge to laugh, but curiosity gnawed at her.
Her hand slipped into her bag, pulling out her phone. With quick movements, she typed in Yunqi Shanzhuang on the search bar.
The screen lit up with results. Articles, news reports, real estate features—an endless flood of praises and astonishment.
"Yunqi Shanzhuang, the pinnacle of luxury living in Central China. Prices starting from one eighty million yuan…"
Her breath hitched. She scrolled further, her heartbeat quickening.
"Only twenty five villas available. The most coveted yet unsold villa: Tianyuan No. 1, with a current market valuation of four hundred million yuan…"
Li Ziqing's pupils shrank. Her throat tightened as her gaze locked onto the words: unsold for five years due to its astronomical price tag.
But that very villa… belonged to her.
Her hand trembled slightly around the phone as she whispered under her breath, more to herself than anyone else, "Four hundred… million…"
Andrew glanced briefly at her reaction through the mirror, but wisely said nothing. His respect deepened; clearly, even the new owner herself hadn't grasped the magnitude of what she now possessed.
Li Ziqing forced her phone down onto her lap, her lips pressing into a thin line. Outside the window, the road stretched ahead, lined with manicured trees and glimpses of distant villas, each more majestic than the last.
Her thoughts, however, churned like a storm.
System… just what kind of game are you playing with me?
The Rolls-Royce glided higher up the serpentine mountain road, the air growing cooler, crisper with every turn. Dense groves of cedar and camphor flanked both sides, their shadows deep and solemn, as if shielding a sacred place.
Finally, the trees parted. The car crested a final curve—and there it was.
Tianyuan No. 1.
The villa stood alone upon a natural terrace carved into the mountainside, its grandeur commanding the entire horizon. A three-story masterpiece of glass, white stone, and dark timber accents, its silhouette fused Eastern elegance with Western modernity. The façade reflected the golden light of the setting sun, while sweeping balconies curved outward like the wings of a celestial palace. Behind it, the mountain rose like a guardian, and before it stretched a panoramic view of Wuhan's skyline, the Yangtze River glinting faintly in the distance.
Andrew slowed the car and gestured with quiet pride. His voice, though professional, carried awe. "Miss Li, this… is Tianyuan No. 1. The crown of Yunqi Shanzhuang."
The car pulled into the private drive, paved with imported granite that shimmered faintly under the light. Elegant lanterns lined the path, their glow subtle yet dignified. At the center of the roundabout driveway stood a fountain carved entirely from white marble—a sculpture of a soaring crane, wings spread, water cascading like mist around it.
Andrew parked the car Infront of the gate. His eyes gleamed as he swept his arm toward the villa. "Allow me to introduce the details. Tianyuan No. 1 spans more than 3,600 square meters of interior space. Three stories above ground, one underground level. It features ten bedrooms, twelve bathrooms, a banquet hall capable of hosting two hundred guests, and a private indoor heated pool. The architectural firm behind it is KPF of New York, while all interiors were designed by Hirsch Bedner Associates. Every furnishing inside was custom-made, imported from Italy, France, and Germany."
Li Ziqing sat frozen, her gaze locked on the towering villa before her. Her chest rose and fell with shallow breaths.
Andrew continued, his enthusiasm swelling. "On the second floor, you'll find a library with a panoramic glass wall overlooking the river. On the third floor, the master suite alone takes up nearly a thousand square meters, with a private terrace garden and hot spring-fed bath. Below, the basement is not just storage—it houses a private wine cellar, cigar lounge, cinema, and even a vault. Security is state of the art—facial recognition, fingerprint locks, and twenty-four-hour surveillance directly connected to both the villa and the central control of Yunqi Shanzhuang."
Li Ziqing's lips parted slightly, words failing her. She turned her head slowly, taking in the sprawling gardens that hugged the villa—landscaped with cherry blossoms, magnolias, and a path leading down to a man-made lake shimmering under the fading light.
Andrew smiled faintly, his voice softening, almost reverent. "Miss Li… for five years, this villa remained unsold. Not because it lacked buyers, but because no one could truly match it. Tianyuan No. 1 was waiting. And now… it belongs to you."
Li Ziqing clenched her fists unconsciously at her sides, her heart pounding. She had lived in a cramped alley, barely scraping by with her family. And now she stood before the most expensive residence in Wuhan—no, perhaps in all of Central China.
Her throat tightened. She swallowed hard, forcing her composure.
"…Show me inside," she finally said, her voice low but steady.
Andrew bowed slightly, a hint of satisfaction flickering across his face. "Of course, Miss Li. Allow me to give you the grand tour."
With that, the villa's massive gates of wrought iron and carved wood swung open silently, as if welcoming its true mistress home.
The Rolls-Royce glided to a stop before the grand wrought-iron gates of the villa. Beyond, a sweeping courtyard stretched wide, paved with white marble and framed by manicured hedges and lantern-lit walkways.
Waiting at the gates were nearly a dozen figures. The moment the car came into view, they straightened in unison, their posture sharp, disciplined, almost militaristic.
At the forefront stood a man in his fifties, tall and lean, dressed immaculately in a black tailcoat. His silver-streaked hair was combed neatly back, and his eyes carried a sharpness that spoke of both intellect and discipline. Even without a word, he exuded authority—the kind that came from decades of service.
Andrew Collins was the first to step out of the car. He gave the man a brief nod, a gesture of professional acknowledgment. The man inclined his head in return before striding forward.
With precise grace, he reached the rear door, opened it, and bowed deeply.
"Welcome home, Mistress Li."
His voice was deep, steady, carrying both respect and formality.
Li Ziqing blinked, momentarily taken aback. Mistress…?
She stepped out of the car. The late sunlight spilled across her figure, and in that instant, every staff member bent at the waist in perfect synchronization.
"Welcome, Mistress!"
The unified greeting rang through the courtyard like a solemn oath.
Li Ziqing's throat tightened.
Andrew's voice broke through the moment, warm and steady. "Miss Li, allow me to introduce the steward of Tianyuan No. 1."
He gestured to the silver-haired man, who now straightened but kept his head slightly bowed toward her.
"This is Butler Yao," Andrew continued, enunciating the name with care. "He is the chief butler of the estate, personally entrusted with overseeing all matters of the villa. Every member of the household staff reports directly to him."
Butler Yao placed one hand across his chest and bowed again. "Mistress Li, it is my greatest honor to serve you. From this moment onward, this villa and everyone within it exist only for your comfort and command."
"Thank you, Butler Yao," Li Ziqing replied softly, her tone calm yet carrying a quiet authority that surprised even herself. She hesitated, then added, "You can call me Miss Li."
Butler Yao's expression did not waver, but there was the faintest glint of acknowledgment in his sharp eyes. He bowed slightly, one hand to his chest. "As you wish, Miss Li."
Before Li Ziqing could say more, Andrew Collins glanced at his watch and stepped forward with a courteous smile.
"Miss Li, my part here is done," he said warmly. "From now on, Butler Yao and his team will serve you. You may take your time to enjoy the villa at your pace. Just a reminder—please register your ID, as well as your family members', at the gate security office. Once that is done, you will be able to enter and leave Yunqi Shanzhuang freely without delay."
Li Ziqing nodded quickly. "I understand."
Butler Yao inclined his head. "I will handle the registration for Miss Li."
"Good." Andrew smiled, then gave her a final look of encouragement. "Then I shall leave you in safe hands. Welcome to your new home, Miss Li."
With that, he excused himself and returned to the waiting car. Within moments, the sleek vehicle rolled out of sight, leaving behind a sudden silence broken only by the rustling of trees in the mountain breeze.
Now, only Li Ziqing, Butler Yao, and the rest of the staff remained.
For a heartbeat, Li Ziqing stood there awkwardly, the weight of so many pairs of eyes fixed upon her. But Butler Yao stepped smoothly forward, his voice calm and steady.
"Miss Li, if you will follow me."
She nodded faintly. The staff parted like water, lowering their heads in respect as she passed. Butler Yao led her through the grand double doors of the villa.
The moment she stepped inside, her breath caught.
The entrance hall rose three stories high, a sweeping expanse of polished marble floors reflecting the glow of an immense crystal chandelier overhead. Golden light scattered like stars across the room. To her left, a grand staircase with carved wooden railings curved upward in a regal sweep. To her right, tall French windows stretched from floor to ceiling, framing a view of distant mountains bathed in sunset light.
It was silent, pristine, majestic—yet warm, not cold. Every surface gleamed, every detail whispered of refinement and power.
Li Ziqing had never seen such magnificence in her life.
Her lips parted slightly, but before words could form, Butler Yao's deep, composed voice echoed beside her.
"This is the main hall," he explained, his tone measured, as though he had guided masters through this space countless times before. "The chandelier above is made of imported crystal from Austria, each piece hand-cut. The staircase was crafted by master carpenters from Suzhou. The marble beneath your feet was brought from Rajasthan, India."
Li Ziqing's stunned silence made him pause briefly. Then, with practiced precision, Butler Yao bowed his head slightly toward her and asked, his voice respectful yet steady, "I hope you like the interior, Miss Li."
Li Ziqing turned to him, her lips curving into a faint smile as she found her voice again. "Butler Yao, I'm really impressed with the design. Every penny spent is worth the wonder in front of me."
Her words carried genuine admiration, and for the first time since stepping foot inside, her tone was lighter. She tilted her head slightly, eyes glimmering with curiosity. "Please… show me around."
Butler Yao's posture remained impeccably composed, but there was a subtle glint of approval in his sharp gaze. He inclined his head. "Behind you, Miss Li."
With that, he gestured gracefully, and the heavy silence of the grand hall seemed to shift. The marble floors echoed softly as she turned, her footsteps following his calm lead.
---
The heavy gates of Tianyuan No. 1 slowly receded into the distance in Andrew Collins's rear-view mirror. He exhaled deeply, loosening his tie as the Rolls Royce Cullinan glided down the winding private road. His composure remained intact, but the moment he settled into the driver's seat, his fingers betrayed him—tapping once, twice against the leather steering wheel.
A few hundred meters away from the villa, he finally pulled over beneath the shadow of a line of ancient pines. With a sigh, he reached into his inner jacket pocket, retrieving a phone. He dialed a number.
The line rang once. Twice. Three times.
On the fourth, a crisp, formal male voice answered, "This is the executive office. May I know who's calling?"
Andrew straightened, his tone sharp and professional. "This is Andrew Collins, manager of Yunqi Shanzhuang. I need to speak with the Assistant Tian. It is… important."
"Understood, Mr. Collins. Please hold while I check if he is available."
The line went silent, save for the faint static of long-distance transfer. Andrew checked his watch. A minute passed. Then two. At last, after what felt like an eternity, a deep, magnetic voice flowed through the receiver, commanding yet calm.
"This is Assistant Tian. Speak."
Andrew's jaw tightened instinctively at the weight of that voice. He leaned back in his seat, eyes fixed on the darkened trees ahead. "Assistant Tian, forgive me for disturbing you, but I thought it necessary. The new owner of Tianyuan No. 1 arrived today."
A pause. A faint rustle of papers on the other end. Then, coolly: "And?"
Andrew hesitated for half a beat before continuing, "It's… not what we expected, sir. The owner is a girl. A small girl. Barely fifteen years old."
The line fell into complete silence. Not even the sound of breathing reached Andrew's ear. He frowned slightly, pressing the phone closer as if to confirm the connection hadn't dropped.
"…Assistant Tian?"
At last, a sharp intake of breath sounded from the other end, followed by a low, incredulous murmur. "Fifteen?"
"Yes," Andrew confirmed firmly. "I saw her myself. Young, but… extraordinary, both in Beauty and composure. Even I was caught off guard. I imagine you must feel the same."
The silence that followed was heavy, laden with thought. Andrew knew the shock well—he himself hadn't believed it until the girl stepped from the car with her calm, poised expression, carrying an authority no child should naturally possess.
Minutes ticked by. Andrew waited, patience carved into his very bones.
Finally, the voice on the other end spoke again, slower this time, steady and controlled. "I understand. Listen carefully, Collins. Take proper care of that girl. Make sure she is comfortable, and that every need is met without delay.
Andrew inclined his head instinctively, as though the president could see him. "Yes, sir. You have my word. Everything will be handled properly."
"Good," President Shen replied, his tone turning final, almost cold. "Only return to Beijing once you've settled everything. Not before."
The line clicked dead immediately after, leaving only the faint echo of the command lingering in Andrew's ears.
---
Far away in Beijing, in the heart of the CBD where glass towers pierced the sky like monuments of ambition, one particular skyscraper stood taller than the rest. On its topmost floor, hidden behind tinted glass that reflected the crimson hues of dusk, sat a small office.
Inside, Assistant Tian sat rigidly at his desk, the glow of the city lights flickering against his spectacles. His hands trembled slightly as he shuffled through the confidential file once again, though he had already memorized every word. But his mind was wandering.
He still couldn't believe it.
Of course, he had known for weeks that the mysterious buyer of Tianyuan No. 1 was someone by the name of Li Ziqing, but due to confidentiality restrictions, the Wuhan Real Estate Administration had only provided them with the most basic information. Nothing more—no background, no family details, no source of funds.
Suspicious, Assistant Tian had used every contact he had. Men and women he trusted, private investigators whose discretion and skill were unmatched in the country. Yet, all of them had come back empty-handed. It was as though this "Li Ziqing" had been plucked from thin air, a ghost with no past, no roots.
The weight of that mystery pressed against his chest. With a sudden resolve, he rose sharply from his chair. The leather squeaked in protest, but he paid it no mind. Straightening his tie and smoothing his jacket, he stepped out of his office.
The secretaries outside froze mid-typing as they caught sight of him striding toward the president's office. Assistant Tian was usually composed, his every move measured. But now, urgency bled from his steps, his brow furrowed deeply in thought.
What could rattle Assistant Tian so badly? they wondered silently. Yet none dared whisper it aloud. Instinctively, they lowered their heads, pretending to drown themselves in paperwork.
Stopping at the end of the polished marble corridor, Assistant Tian drew a breath to steady himself. Then, lifting a clenched fist, he knocked twice against the heavy wooden door.
For a moment, silence reigned. Then, from within, a voice flowed out—deep, magnetic, calm yet carrying an undercurrent of command.
"Come in."
Assistant Tian adjusted his tie once more and pushed open the door.
Cool air immediately brushed against him, tinged with the faint mingling scents of cigarette smoke, strong coffee, and fresh ink.
The room was spacious yet minimalistic, lined with towering bookshelves and floor-to-ceiling windows that framed the glittering Beijing skyline. In the center stood a man in his late thirties, tall and lean, his presence so refined it seemed to command the very air around him.
He wore a crisp white shirt, the top two buttons casually undone, his sleeves rolled up to the elbow, revealing forearms corded with strength. Slim black trousers completed his look, sharp and dignified. Yet there was nothing of corporate stiffness in his demeanor. Instead, he exuded an effortless grace, like a model who had stepped straight off a runway and into this office of power.
At that moment, he was not at his desk but standing before a broad, ink-stained table. A large sheet of rice paper stretched across it, and in his hand he held a calligraphy brush. With each stroke, his wrist moved fluidly, ink dancing across the surface in bold, sweeping characters. The contrast of the black ink against the white paper seemed to mirror the man himself—restrained yet powerful, elegant yet lethal.
The scene was almost picturesque. The faint curl of cigarette smoke above him, the city lights blazing behind him, the brush flowing in his hand—he looked less like a businessman and more like a scholar-warrior from another era, reborn into the modern age.
Assistant Tian immediately lowered his head and bent forward in a bow, his voice formal and steady despite the storm in his chest.
"President Rong."
The man did not immediately look up. He finished the stroke he was writing, set the brush aside with careful precision, and only then lifted his eyes.
Sharp, dark, and fathomless, those eyes fixed upon Assistant Tian, carrying a weight that made the assistant's spine straighten instinctively.
"What is it?" Rong Minghao asked, his tone calm, but beneath the calmness lay the kind of authority that could bend men's wills.
___
Author's note
This is already the fourth chapter of this weekend! 🥰 I'm working hard to bring you more and more, and honestly, I'm getting a little greedy now—it's all thanks to your support that I can keep going.
But here's the thing: I see that we already have 18 regular readers, yet I only receive 4–5 Power Stones and very few comments or reviews. 😭 Please, my dear readers, don't just read silently—your Power Stones, comments, and reviews are the fuel that keeps me writing day and night. 💕
It's simple: your responsibility as readers is to give me feedback, stones, and reviews; my responsibility is to deliver the best story I possibly can. Let's keep this exchange alive and growing!
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