Ling Xie stepped out of his white Honda Civic, his high-end designer bag slung over his shoulder, and gave a polite nod of thanks to his driver. A quick glance at the silver watch on his left wrist sent a ripple through the air—countless pairs of hungry eyes locked onto him, their gazes intense enough to bore holes through his perfectly styled figure.
With a practiced ease, he turned to them and flashed a seductive smile. It was devastating. Their souls practically left their bodies, clutching their wildly beating hearts as they staggered in awe.
Ling Xie observed the spectacle with calm amusement, his lips curling slightly in satisfaction before he continued on his way.
When he reached the restaurant, his eyes lit up in excitement. Thousand Lotus Loft?! Chen Yi's restaurant?! A delighted sparkle danced in his gaze as he tried to contain his inner fanboy.
Ling Xie plastered a bright, charming smile on his face and stepped inside, his happiness bubbling over into a slight bounce in his steps. This was his first visit to the famous Thousand Lotus Loft, and it already felt like a dream come true.
The building's exterior was elegant and understated, but the interior was nothing short of magical. Delicate touches of lotus flowers and lush greenery adorned the expansive hall, while a small, clear river meandered gracefully around each table. Ling Xie felt as though he had stepped into another world entirely.
Just as he was admiring the serene beauty of his surroundings, a man in a tailored butler outfit approached him with a polite smile. "Good evening, miss. Do you have a reservation?" His voice was professional, his demeanor impeccable.
Ling Xie blinked, momentarily thrown off by the greeting. In his excitement, he had almost forgotten the persona he was currently playing. Composing himself quickly, he curved his lips into a delicate smile and softened his voice.
"Ah, yes. Uncle Liang should be waiting for me."
The butler paused briefly, his eyes flicking to his earpiece. "May I know your name?"
"Churong," Ling Xie replied smoothly, now fully embracing his role. As the butler confirmed the appointment over his earpiece, Churong stood tall in his heels, radiating an aura of calm confidence.
Even as whispers and stolen glances danced around him, he remained indifferent, brushing off the attention with practiced ease.
"Please follow me," the butler said with a polite bow, gesturing for Churong to proceed. After confirming the reservation, he led Churong to the second floor, where exclusive rooms for VIP guests were located. The butler stopped at room 213, opened the door, and stepped aside to let him in.
As the door clicked shut behind him, Churong spotted Uncle Liang standing to greet him. The man, in his forties, carried a gentle but commanding presence.
Uncle Liang was one of Churong's past clients—a man who, despite being the emperor of the underworld and feared by millions, had approached Churong with a deeply personal problem. His second son, already 27, remained unmarried, and given their precarious lives, caught between power and danger, Uncle Liang was tormented by the thought of leaving this world without seeing his son settled.
Gender wasn't an issue for the underworld boss, and Churong had resolved the matter within a month. His matchmaking expertise had paired the second son with a bachelor in B City, who was now hopelessly smitten.
Not that it was intentional on Churong's part! He swore—while discreetly crossing his fingers—that he hadn't slept for three days because of the whirlwind his matchmaking caused. The ship had sailed, and he was dragged along for the ride!
"Hello, Uncle Liang," Churong greeted with a sweet smile.
Uncle Liang returned the smile warmly, his wide grin exuding affection. He was quite pleased that the young lady had finally dropped the formalities. After their interactions, he couldn't help but feel an almost grandfatherly urge to pamper her.
"Come, sit. I've had your favorite dishes prepared," he said, gesturing toward the table.
Churong shook his head lightly, feeling both amused and helpless. 'Are you my grandpa now?' Still, he was touched by the gesture.
As he walked over, his gaze landed on two other people—a man and a woman seated nearby. They looked like a couple straight out of a fairytale, their matching silver rings glinting under the soft light. It didn't take long for him to realize they were married. Their restlessness, however, was impossible to miss.
Churong bowed politely, speaking in a gentle tone to ease the tense atmosphere. "Good evening."
"This is Mr. and Mrs. Fengli," Uncle Liang introduced as Churong took a seat on his left.
The couple exchanged a glance, their silent battle playing out in their eyes. In the end, Mrs. Fengli seemed to win. She took a deep breath, her smile restrained but kind.
"Hello, dear. I've heard a lot about you," she said, her tone tinged with nervousness.
Room 213 soon became a battlefield of intense debate, with voices rising and falling as Mr. and Mrs. Fengli discussed which youths met the lofty requirements to be considered candidates for their eldest son. Churong, ever the master of subtle persuasion, gently confirmed that the idea of a bachelor wasn't entirely off the table for this particular couple—it was just that their standards, especially for men, were exceptionally high.
But who was Churong, if not a miracle worker?
In just two years, he had earned a well-deserved nickname: High Society's Cupid.
7:30 p.m.
Mrs. Fengli, who had carried the weight of this dilemma for weeks, finally allowed herself to relax. "I'm so glad we reached out to you," she said, her smile now far more genuine, the tension in her posture melting away.
"Indeed," Mr. Fengli agreed, dabbing at the crumbs on his lips with a napkin. "That brat better find someone suitable in such a large gathering."
On the table in front of them, two stacks of profiles told the story of their deliberation. Twenty profiles, neatly stacked, had survived the heated discussions, while the other 180 were discarded and left forgotten to the side.
"Don't worry, Mr. and Mrs. Fengli," Churong said with a confident yet warm smile, carefully placing the chosen 20 into a sleek folder. "I will personally oversee the event and ensure everything goes smoothly."
Uncle Liang's assistant, who had been summoned to bring the profiles at the start of the debate, began packing the lucky batch for safe transport.
Churong glanced briefly at the photo of the Fenglis' eldest son, a man of striking features and effortless elegance. At 24, he was undeniably the epitome of a dream partner, someone who could easily turn heads at any gathering.
'Not my type, though,' Churong thought with a shrug, mentally noting the man's appeal without lingering on it.
"I will also be there," Uncle Liang suddenly declared, his tone firm, his presence radiating the commanding aura of a king. The statement left no room for objection.
Churong chuckled wryly, raising a brow at the declaration. "What can I say? At least let me work in peace when the party starts."
Uncle Liang hesitated for a brief moment but eventually nodded, his regal demeanor softening slightly.
'Is he really the emperor of the underworld?' Churong mused, growing increasingly skeptical of the man's indulgent side.
Rising gracefully, Churong bid the room goodbye with polite pecks on each cheek. The folder containing the 20 selected profiles rested on his left arm, while his designer bag dangled elegantly from his right hand. His every movement was fluid, exuding the composed charm of someone who had long mastered the art of high society.