At this moment in the hotel's top-floor banquet hall, a trans-oceanic financial merger and acquisition negotiation was nearing its conclusion.
Tonight, there were two main actors in this play.
Zhonggang Group's Executive Director Chen Jingyuan and the Crown Prince of the Zhou Family in Macau, Zhou Shixu.
Since taking over his family's business, Meng Xingzhi was making his first foray from Huabei into the Greater Bay Area in terms of investment deployment. To successfully take this first step, he couldn't do without the momentum provided by these two capital moguls from the home port behind the scenes.
Even after nearly three months of negotiation for the acquisition deal, the weight of Meng's words, even with his apex position in Forty-Nine City, could not compare to the light promise of "favor" casually mentioned by Mr. Chen from the Hong Kong Region.
However, business is business.
Meng Xingzhi set down his teacup and, turning to his side, took a letter of intent from his assistant and slowly slid it across the table to Chen Jingyuan seated opposite him.
Zhou Shixu raised an eyebrow, "Nothing for me?"
"Of course, there is, but it'll have to wait."
As for how long he would have to wait, that depended on when the Crown Prince could fully take over the Zhou Family's power.
Some things go without saying. The three of them had known each other for years and were clear as mirrors about the family internal affairs.
During the casual conversation, the sound of flipping papers arose.
Chen Jingyuan skimmed through the document and lightly tapped the ash of his cigarette, speaking indifferently, "Young Master Meng's sincerity is commendable, but an entire half-year... I wonder if the Meng Family can afford to wait."
"If it were someone else, I'd probably not dare to wager," Meng Xingzhi picked up his teacup and took a light sniff. The steam of the tea softened his features like jade, rendering his visage ethereal under the light.
After a pause, he added, "But you are Chen Jingyuan. It's not just a matter of half a year—if it takes even two more years, it would still be worth my while to raise the stakes."
The two were speaking in riddles, making Zhou Shixu a mere bystander.
In fact, there was no need to ask further. The strategic layout of Zhonggang in the Beijing Branch from last year offered some clues.
Old Chen was set to break through resistance and start venturing into new fields.
Zhou Shixu, with a lazy smile teasing, "Ever thought that it might not take half a year and Old Chen's private jet might start shuttling frequently between Beijing and Capital Harbor?"
Upon hearing this, Meng Xingzhi spoke gravely, "I couldn't ask for more."
Time was more precious to him than anything else.
If it could be advanced, then the situation for the Meng Family in Beijing could be completely overturned.
His only concern now was that the waters of Zhonggang could become murkier with the stirring of various forces.
The hindrance to Old Chen's future trip to Beijing, frankly, was still the figure recuperating on Taiping Mountain.
But Meng Xingzhi had always felt that this day would not be too far off.
Because the name Chen Jingyuan itself was the greatest assurance.
About half an hour later, the auction on the 17th floor was more than halfway through.
After discussing official matters, Zhou Shixu suddenly felt like having some fun. He rang the bell for the top-floor butler and instructed him to connect the live auction feed from below.
The hotel staff was efficient, and within a few minutes, the banquet hall's vast eastern wall was fully covered by the giant LCD screen.
In order to facilitate the bidding for the three honored guests remotely, the butler wore a Bluetooth headset, connected to the scene, holding the collection catalogue, and personally explained it to them.
"Chen Shao'an, that kid, spent fifty million on an ink painting?" Zhou Shixu, finding it increasingly amusing, turned to Chen Jingyuan, "Your brother seems to have been quite struck by a woman."
The three were still unaware that the woman casually mentioned by the Crown Prince was our diligently working Secretary Liang.
Liang Weining could testify.
Chen Shao'an was not foolish.
He simply enjoyed showing off his wealth and a sense of superiority as a second-generation tycoon in front of the opposite sex, extravagantly displaying his peacock feathers.
But Chen Shao'an had not considered that Liang Weining worked every day as the Chief Secretary alongside Chen Jingyuan. The figures on the checks she saw, with a long string of zeros at their end, were far more than a mere fifty million.
Not to mention anything else, just the private yacht docked at the Western Harbor owned by the big boss was worth a full 150 million Hong Kong dollars.
Liang Weining had seen enough of the world.
But after all, as someone from the working class, there was truly no need for her to assert herself and clash head-on with the scions of wealth.
Learning to yield when appropriate and putting on a bit of a dramatic act when necessary, uttering a few sweet words, especially appealed to Chen Shao'an who had a soft spot for such feminine approaches.
The matter with the text messages came to a close with her patient maneuvering.
The bidding for the white jade carved inkstone table followed, and Liang Weining directly secured it for thirty million.
Although she acquired the item she coveted, she was not happy.
Thirty million, too low.
She had imagined that after several rounds of bidding, it would at least reach over fifty million.
Who would have known that these people would give Chen Jingyuan so much face.
When Liang Weining raised her paddle, the room fell silent like this, and not a single person dared to bid further.
Everyone knew that the person seated there was the secretary of Chen Jingyuan from Zhonggang Group.
No matter how good Mr. Chen's favored items are, unless absolutely necessary, don't compete for them; this is the unspoken consensus throughout the Hong Kong Circle.
So naturally, the last collectible effortlessly ended up in Liang Weining's pocket.
What a bore.
She felt so helpless.
Chen Shao'an showed up at the auction tonight, clearly also for the chairman's birthday.
If that painting "Lofty Peaks" were truly presented as a birthday gift to the chairman, then Mr. Chen's white jade carved inkstone table would be completely out of the question.
Between thirty million and fifty million, it's not just the numbers that differ.
Chen Jingyuan, as the chairman's eldest son and the heir to the family, that is the key.
Following the organizer backstage to sign documents and stamp the owner's private seal, after leaving the address, her phone lit up with Assistant Xu's call.
Liang Weining answered the phone while walking towards the exit of the venue.
On the phone, Xu Zhou asked her to wait in the car for a few minutes until Mr. Chen came down from the top floor, as there might be additional instructions.
Liang Weining glanced at the men's suit draped over her arm and nodded, "Mr. Chen's clothes are still with me, I'll deliver them to him."
She would also recap the auction events of the evening.
After all, the task was not well accomplished.
By the time she went outside, the extended Pullman had already driven out of the hotel's underground garage and was quietly parked beside the driveway against the dense night curtain.
As Liang Weining approached, the rear car door opened automatically.
The ambient light inside the car slowly spilled out, which seemed extra bright compared to usual tonight.
She paused as she was about to get in, because there was already someone sitting inside.
To be exact, a boy around ten years old...?
The boy had a clear and handsome face, his back straight against the seat, with a book lying on the small table in front of him. As the door opened, he lifted his head from the book and looked towards Liang Weining standing outside the car.
For a brief two seconds, he appraised her politely.
The boy nodded at her without a word, then turned back to his book.
Although she hadn't had the chance to meet him in over three months at the Zhonggang executive office, Liang Weining recognized the boy's identity at first glance.
He was Chen Jingyuan's foster son, Josie.
His Chinese name, Chen Jiaze.
Once in the car, to avoid disturbing him from studying, Liang Weining preemptively switched her phone to silent mode, an action noticed by the boy, prompting him to initiate a greeting, "Sister, are you Daddy's friend?"
Incredibly pure Hong Kong Cantonese.
Liang Weining understood the words for "friend" and simply nodded with a smile, "Hello, Josie, I am Mr. Chen's secretary; my last name is Liang."
Secretary.
"Is Secretary Liang from the Mainland?" Josie asked.
This time, he spoke in Mandarin.
The pronunciation wasn't accurate, but it didn't hinder everyday communication.