As a private gathering, the nature of the event was very laid-back, lacking the pomp often seen in films. However, there was one individual who stood out—Jiang Chen, who entered wearing casual clothes. He wasn't being uncouth; after all, he was here on vacation, so who would bother with the hassle of a formal suit?
On the stage at the front of the hall, an elegant piano piece played softly. Guests, including many influential figures, strolled around, wine glasses in hand, seeking out people with similar interests to engage in conversation. Yet, Jiang Chen was a complete outlier in this social setting, wandering the edges of the hall with a plate in hand, circling the long tables laden with exquisite dishes. It was clear that neither the dance floor nor the socializing had caught his attention.
Mmm, this steak is absolutely delicious...
Jiang Chen chewed thoughtfully, nodding in satisfaction. After finishing, he elegantly wiped the grease off his lips with a napkin. Well, being a foodie is one thing, but if he didn't maintain some level of decorum, he'd really be a country bumpkin—there's always the risk of the security team escorting him out.
With a glass of red wine in hand, Jiang Chen glanced toward the guest of honor.
Tsk tsk, it's undeniable that Arabian oil tycoons know how to live in luxury. Take the princess, for example—her figure was absolutely stunning. With curves in all the right places and a waist so slim you could wrap your hand around it, she was a walking masterpiece. Her sharp nose, captivating eyes, and long, elegant eyebrows—all these features made her a perfect blend of Eastern beauty and Western physique. Her every move exuded a graceful yet subtly seductive aura.
She wasn't wearing a headscarf? Must be from Lebanon then.
The sparkling diamond hanging from her neck was too grand to be judged by size alone, but based on its sheer scale, it was definitely worth millions—probably in dollars.
Standing beside her was a handsome prince, though Jiang Chen wasn't interested in men, so he didn't bother to observe him much. Surrounding them were weapons tycoons and oil magnates, and a few Asian faces that Jiang Chen couldn't place.
The rest of the guests, from various sectors of society, were gathered in small groups, fanning out around the center of the hall. Jiang Chen recognized several familiar faces, like the famous pop diva and the bald actor from Fast & Furious. He couldn't help but feel a little surprised to see so many celebrities, though he didn't really follow the gossip scene, so he had no intention of asking for autographs.
"Mr. Nayef, I'm curious, why did you choose to celebrate this wonderful occasion for your beloved in the mysterious East?" one guest asked.
"Haha, I really like this place. Last time I was in Hawaii, but this place has great scenery too, and there are fewer annoying reporters," Nayef chuckled.
Of course, there were reporters here, but they had all been detained by the police for questioning—issues about passports, procedures, proving one's identity, all that bureaucratic red tape. No matter how loudly the foreign reporters protested, they weren't allowed to leave. What mattered more: following legal protocols or their petty news stories? If they wanted to leave, they'd better stay put until the process was over—or they could prove they were who they said they were and get a press pass.
It had to be said, money truly worked wonders in China—sometimes even more so than in capitalist countries.
Back when Nayef had been in Hawaii, he'd had to pay double the price to hire the mafia to handle such matters, and then bribe the police to turn a blind eye.
But in China, one-stop services like these were simply perfect for an oil magnate with more money than he knew what to do with.
It was precisely because Nayef always handled sensitive privacy issues so well that his similarly high-profile friends dared to travel so far to attend his events. While Nayef sent invitations to everyone staying at the hotel, not all guests were actual residents—like the oil tycoon who was currently chatting with him.
Interestingly, some people had even booked luxury suites just to gain access to this "resource-rich" circle. Jiang Chen had gotten lucky, managing to book the most expensive beach villa on short notice, without knowing that a Middle Eastern tycoon was hosting a banquet here.
"Mr. Aurora, I wonder if you'd be interested in five oil tankers full of crude?" asked Nayef's associate.
"Of course I'm interested. My little ones burn that stuff nonstop every day," Aurora grinned. "Let's talk further, Zahir. Shall we move to a quieter place?"
"Gladly," Zahir replied.
Every minute, a deal—large or small—was being made, and Jiang Chen found himself slightly amazed as he stood by, nibbling on salmon. Nearby, several wealthy Chinese businessmen discussed business, stock markets, and even some private matters. Jiang Chen overheard some explosive gossip.
For example, a certain female celebrity, rumored to be about to marry, had spent the night in the room of a domestic real estate magnate just the night before. Another idol singer, once known for her innocent image, had attended a lavish private party hosted by a coal magnate. Jiang Chen even had a few of her songs downloaded on his phone...
This surprised Jiang Chen, but then again, it wasn't entirely unexpected. The entertainment industry's "unspoken rules" weren't anything new, especially for rising stars with no strong backing.
If a reporter had gotten into this place... it would've been an utter disaster.
But of course, reporters would never be allowed in.
"A5 Kobe beef, a real treat," one man said, eyeing Jiang Chen's plate.
"Hmm, yes, it's quite good..." Jiang Chen raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised by the large white man sitting across from him who was attempting to start a conversation.
"For such a small piece, it costs 300 dollars. Sir, the way you're eating it makes onlookers wince," the man chuckled, flashing a wide smile.
His fluent Mandarin made Jiang Chen momentarily think he might be a fellow Chinese under a foreign guise.
"How did you know I'm Chinese?" Jiang Chen asked, genuinely curious.
"I've always had a knack for reading people," the man replied with a grin. "I'm Bruce Miller."
It was his eating habits, of course, Bruce thought to himself.
Jiang Chen shook his hand with a friendly smile.
"Jiang Chen," he replied.
It was clear from the man's expression that he wasn't exactly having good thoughts. Jiang Chen's instincts told him this guy, Bruce, was not ordinary. Of course, being wealthy didn't make Bruce special here—everyone in the room had money. But there was something unsettling about him, something in his aura—a faint, almost imperceptible bloodthirst. Only those who had seen death up close exuded such a presence. Jiang Chen instinctively felt wary. He wasn't sure why Bruce had approached him, but he had a hunch it wasn't for a casual chat.
"Don't worry," Bruce laughed when he noticed Jiang Chen's cautious glance. "I just recognized a fellow professional."
Jiang Chen, mildly amused but unsure whether to be flattered or concerned, simply shrugged.
"Oh? Was it that obvious?" Jiang Chen asked, raising an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued.
"Didn't you notice? The security guards by the door have been watching you," Bruce replied with a sip of red wine, his tone casual.
Watched me? Jiang Chen glanced toward the door at the muscular security guards wearing sunglasses. He couldn't tell what they were thinking, but he had no special talent for reading body language through shades. Jiang Chen wasn't sure how Bruce knew they were focused on him, but he simply took a sip of his own wine.
"Me? Bruce, you're joking. I'm just an ordinary person here to relax on vacation," Jiang Chen said, his tone casual.
Hearing this, Bruce let out a breath of relief. As a mercenary, it was highly unusual for him to be in such circles. However, since his team was responsible for Prince Nayef's security, he had been granted an exception.
Bruce's first impression of Jiang Chen had been striking—there was an undeniable sense of danger about him. Despite lacking a muscular physique, Bruce's instincts told him that if they got into close combat, he'd probably lose.
If Jiang Chen had heard Bruce's thoughts, he would've laughed and told him it wasn't an 80% chance of losing—it was a 100% certainty. No matter how skilled Bruce was in hand-to-hand combat, Jiang Chen's strength and reaction speed would crush him. There would be no contest.
But when Bruce noticed that Jiang Chen was merely wandering among the food, his intuition began to waver.
After all, it was a private event, so the atmosphere was relatively relaxed, nothing like the grandeur you might see in movies. However, there was one person who stood out, and that was Jiang Chen. He strolled in wearing casual clothes, completely out of place among the guests in their formal attire. But, to be fair, Jiang Chen wasn't exactly a man who cared about appearances—after all, he was here for a vacation, not to worry about formal wear.
On the stage in the restaurant's main hall, the gentle notes of a piano filled the air. The elite guests mingled, glasses of wine in hand, seeking out the social circles they were most interested in joining. Yet, Jiang Chen remained a clear outlier, casually walking around the perimeter of the event, eyeing the long tables laden with gourmet food. Neither the music nor the socializing seemed to capture his attention.
This steak is absolutely amazing…
He chewed elegantly, nodding in satisfaction, and after finishing, even took a moment to dab at his mouth with a napkin. Well, he may be a food lover, but if he didn't mind his manners while eating, he'd definitely look like a country bumpkin—maybe the security would even escort him out...
Holding a glass of red wine, Jiang Chen casually glanced toward the VIP area where the guest of honor was seated.
Wow, gotta say, those Middle Eastern oil tycoons sure know how to live. Just look at that princess—her figure could probably cause an international incident. With her curves in all the right places and a waist so slender it seemed impossible to grasp, her delicate nose and those deep, alluring eyes—she looked like a mix of the finest Eastern beauty and Western glamour. Everything about her exuded a balance of grace and subtle sensuality.
No headscarf? She must be from Lebanon.
The diamond pendant around the princess's neck was dazzling. Jiang Chen couldn't even begin to guess its worth, but just based on its size, it was probably worth millions...in dollars.
Beside her was the prince, a handsome man, though Jiang Chen wasn't really interested in men, so he didn't pay him much attention. Surrounding them were arms dealers and oil magnates, along with a few Asian faces whose nationalities Jiang Chen couldn't quite place.
The rest of the high society figures gathered in small groups, forming circles around the center of the venue. Jiang Chen saw several familiar faces, such as a pop diva and the actor from Fast & Furious—not bad for someone just here to enjoy a quiet vacation. Jiang Chen wasn't one to fanboy, so he had no intention of asking for autographs.
"Mr. Nayef, what made you choose this mysterious Eastern land to celebrate such a wonderful occasion for your beloved?" one guest asked.
"Haha, I really like this place. Last time it was in Hawaii, but this place is nice too, and there aren't so many annoying reporters." Nayef replied with a smile.
Of course, there were reporters around, but they had all been escorted away by security for some "talks" about things like passports and paperwork, ensuring they weren't just some random intruders. Despite their frustrations, they weren't going anywhere—legal procedures take precedence over your little news piece, after all.
In China, sometimes money can do more than in capitalist countries.
In Hawaii, Nayef had to spend twice as much money hiring the mafia for the same task and then bribe the police to turn a blind eye. But here, the one-stop service in China suited him perfectly.
It was because Nayef handled such privacy concerns so thoroughly that his more sensitive friends were willing to travel thousands of miles to attend his gala. While Nayef had invited everyone with a "proper" invite, not all the guests were actually staying at the hotel—like the oil tycoon chatting with him right now.
Some people had even gone so far as to book a luxurious room for several nights just to gain access to this exclusive circle. Jiang Chen felt a bit lucky, as he had snagged one of the most expensive beachside villas. Before arriving, he had no idea that a Middle Eastern tycoon would be hosting a party here.
"Mr. Auroral, would you be interested in five oil tankers, all filled to the brim with crude?" someone else asked.
"Of course I'm interested. My little machines burn through that stuff every day. Haha, Zahari, why don't we talk more about this on the side?" the man replied.
"Of course, it would be an honor," came the response.
At every moment, deals were being made, large and small. Jiang Chen couldn't help but reflect on how he found himself casually nibbling on salmon, while all this was going on around him. Nearby, several Chinese businessmen were discussing business deals, stock trends, and even personal matters, revealing some explosive gossip.
For example, a famous actress, rumored to be getting married soon, had spent the night in the room of a prominent real estate tycoon. Or the former "pure" idol singer who had been at a coal magnate's scandalous party the night before. Jiang Chen couldn't help but shake his head—though it wasn't exactly surprising. The entertainment industry was no stranger to such behind-the-scenes deals, especially for female stars who didn't have much backing.
What would have been a disaster if a reporter had snuck in…
Of course, no reporters would ever be allowed in.
"A5 Kobe beef tenderloin, excellent choice," a voice interrupted his musings.
"Mm, definitely good..." Jiang Chen raised an eyebrow in surprise as a muscular white man sitting across from him casually struck up a conversation.
"That tiny portion costs 300 bucks, Mr. Jiang, I have to say, your choice is certainly...painful to watch." The man, sporting a short haircut and stubble, grinned, showing a set of white teeth. His flawless Mandarin made Jiang Chen momentarily wonder if this guy was actually Chinese in disguise.
"How did you know I'm Chinese?" Jiang Chen asked, genuinely curious.
"I'm very good at reading people," the man replied with a knowing smile, extending his hand. "My name is Bruce Miller."
Because you're the only one who can eat this much... Bruce thought to himself.
Shaking Bruce's hand, Jiang Chen smiled politely.
"Jiang Chen."
This guy's got something up his sleeve, Jiang Chen thought, sizing him up. Bruce wasn't a simple guy, though not because he was rich—everyone here was wealthy. It was the subtle air of danger that surrounded him. Jiang Chen's instincts told him this guy was no stranger to violence. It made him wary. What was he trying to get at?
"Relax, I just thought you seemed like someone I could relate to," Bruce said, noticing Jiang Chen's wariness and laughing it off.
You think I'm one of you? Jiang Chen couldn't help but feel a little amused.
"Oh? Was it that obvious?" Jiang Chen asked with a curious expression.
"Did you not notice? The security at the entrance? They're all keeping an eye on you," Bruce said, taking a sip of his wine.
Looking over at the security guards by the door—dressed in sunglasses and with muscular builds—Jiang Chen couldn't help but feel the pressure. He didn't know how Bruce had picked up on it, but he could sense that Bruce knew things without needing to ask.
"Me? Mr. Bruce, you're joking. I'm just a regular guy here to enjoy a relaxing vacation," Jiang Chen replied with a calm demeanor.
Bruce seemed relieved, though he had his own reasons for being there. As a mercenary, he wouldn't typically be allowed into such an event, but thanks to his team's work providing security for Prince Nayef, he had received special permission.
Bruce had noticed Jiang Chen immediately upon entering the venue. The subtle aura of danger around him made Bruce uneasy. Jiang Chen might not have the imposing physique that other bodyguards did, but Bruce could sense the kind of person Jiang Chen was—a warrior with an unsettling presence.
If Jiang Chen heard his thoughts, Bruce would probably be told that it wasn't an 80% chance of losing in hand-to-hand combat... it was 100%. Jiang Chen's reflexes and strength would overwhelm him.
But after seeing Jiang Chen simply roaming between food tables, Bruce started to doubt his initial assessment.