Chapter 72: Xiao Yihong

Qi Yan summed up what he believed to be the four most embarrassing things in his life: running out of toilet paper, having no balance in his bank account, farting during a date, and running into an ex... And now, he was facing the fourth.

True, the world was vast, but both he and Chen Huiting had attended university in New State, and after graduation, they both stayed in the same city for work. Meeting here wasn’t exactly shocking, it made sense. Still, Qi Yan never expected their paths to cross in such a setting.

Chen Huiting had majored in finance, but here she was, working as a staff member at a cultural exhibition, which meant she hadn’t pursued a job in her field. The abrupt encounter instantly dredged up memories for Qi Yan.

He recalled their university days—frequent quarrels, even more than Dong Ye and his girlfriend—but those moments were still bathed in the warmth of youthful affection. College romances tended to be purer, even if neither had yet established a mature view of love.

Qi Yan always carried a sense of guilt towards her; he had, after all, been a bit of a flirt. He wasn’t exactly promiscuous, mostly just liked to tease and fool around—a kind of immature mischief. It was harmless until Chen Huiting accidentally saw a rather ambiguous text message on his phone. How to describe it? Using Li Ruo Ke’s favorite phrase: “Oh my god!”

That was it. Chen Huiting’s fury erupted—she grabbed a brick and chased Qi Yan for over a kilometer across campus.

It had been years since then. Seeing each other again, both had changed, at least in appearance. Qi Yan didn’t see murderous rage on her face anymore; things were awkward, but fairly harmonious.

“Are you here for the exhibition?” she asked.

“I—yes, I’m here with my dad,” Qi Yan replied.

They stood there, making small talk, awkwardly asking about each other’s recent life. Chen Huiting said she’d moved back home for a while after graduating, then returned to New State for work through family connections, now employed at a large event planning company.

After chatting a bit, they found standing there was strange, so they began to walk slowly.

“Oh, you’re running your own business now? That’s impressive, starting a company so soon!” Chen Huiting teased.

Qi Yan gave a sheepish laugh. “Not really—just a small business, some e-commerce, micro-business, muddling through.”

Chen Huiting nodded, not pressing for details, trying to keep the conversation light and less awkward. “You said you’re here with your dad? Haha, must be tough for you.”

As someone who had dated Qi Yan for over a year, Chen Huiting knew his temperament well—he’d never be interested in the exhibition’s theme.

Qi Yan, seeing the atmosphere loosen, lifted his eyelids. “Tough? ...Not really.”

“Really? Hey, weren’t you always uninterested in this stuff? Isn’t it odd for a staunch atheist to attend a religious culture exhibition?” Chen Huiting seemed to have no urgent work at hand, so she stayed to chat with her old acquaintance. “Want me to be your personal guide?”

---

Qi Yan pursed his lips. “No need, don’t underestimate me—I’m quite eager to learn these days, you know? I know a bit about it.”

“Oh?” Chen Huiting raised an eyebrow, stopped, and pointed to a prominent display case in the center of the hall ahead. “Do you know what that statue is?”

The display case, aside from its pedestal, was about as tall as a person. Inside was a half-meter-high dark statue, a figure with a somewhat odd pose.

Its right leg bent, left leg crossed and suspended in mid-air, four arms.

Its surface was worn, suggesting an ancient artifact.

Qi Yan tilted his head, glanced at Chen Huiting. “Shiva, right? The god of destruction among the three major Hindu deities, also the god of dance, the founder of yoga… that’s basically it, right?”

Chen Huiting gave him a thumbs-up. “Impressive, Qi Yan—you can recognize deities now?”

“Pfft…”

They joked in front of the display case, unaware of another figure standing nearby, who spoke up to add some information: “Shiva is not only the god of destruction, but also a creator god, embodying both fertility and destruction. Another common representation is the Lingam, the male reproductive organ… This particular Shiva statue is the most valuable piece among the late collector’s treasures from Rayong, Thailand.”

The voice was a rich, resonant contralto.

Qi Yan and Chen Huiting, caught up in their conversation, hadn’t noticed anyone else. Now, both turned their heads, a bit stunned.

Standing beside them was a woman—a beautiful woman.

She was tall, dressed in a deep red sleeveless fitted dress that highlighted her well-maintained figure to near perfection. Her shoulder-length black hair was gently curved, her bright almond eyes striking, skin fair and healthy, a faint mole on the left side of her chin, lips a vivid red exuding elegance. She stood tall, arms crossed, radiating innate confidence.

A necklace hung around her neck, a white jade bracelet on her wrist.

It was easy to guess she was over forty, but extremely well-preserved.

Even in middle age, her allure remained undiminished, full of charm.

Girls like Chen Huiting or Li Ruo Ke, in their teens and twenties, no matter how pretty, could only be described as “cute” or “pretty.” Only women like the one before them, mature yet still dazzling, truly deserved to be called “beautiful.”

The key was her presence—steady yet generous, graceful and forthright. Unlike ordinary socialites, despite her bold makeup and attire, nothing felt garish; her aura was formidable, unmistakably that of a powerful woman.

Her outfit, dominated by red, made her seem like a blooming rose, overshadowing everything around her—even the exquisite exhibits in the display case.

As she spoke, her eyes remained fixed on the Shiva statue. When she finished, she turned to face them, her gaze lingering on Qi Yan.

Qi Yan met her eyes for barely three seconds—a brief moment, but he was truly awed by the force of her presence. No exaggeration: he almost didn’t dare look her in the eye.

She said nothing more, maintained a composed smile, nodded, and walked away, her high heels tapping a steady, crisp rhythm on the marble floor.

---

When Qi Yan turned back to Chen Huiting, he saw a look of admiration on her face, staring after the woman’s departing figure.

Qi Yan lowered his voice instinctively. “Who is that? She looks so formidable, so regal.”

Chen Huiting pressed her lips into a smile and answered quietly, “Of course she’s formidable. She’s one of the exhibition’s sponsors, Chairwoman Xiao Yihong of Dingtai Group—a true powerhouse in the business world.”

Qi Yan was taken aback. Dingtai Group… the publicly listed trading company where Dong Ye recently started working?

---

At 11:23 AM, beside the fountain plaza outside the exhibition hall, an orange compact car was parked. Inside sat two people, munching popcorn and chips.

Xuanxuan was in the passenger seat. The driver was the tall man who had been with her and Old Yan in the KTV, his muscular arms and prominent biceps on display. His name was Hao Dalong, though Yan and the others liked to call him “Big Hao.”

The two had been sitting in the car all morning, chatting idly.

Now, the flow of people at the main entrance of the exhibition center was increasing, with many coming and going.

“Zeng Qiong, what’s up with Old Yan? Is the intel reliable? Are we supposed to keep watch until the exhibition ends?” Dalong grumbled.

Zeng Qiong was Xuanxuan’s real name, but she hated when people used it. She slapped Dalong’s thigh. “Tsk! I told you not to use my real name! Want a beating? … What’s the point of complaining to me? Annoying…”

He didn’t mind the slap at all—in fact, he seemed quite relaxed, grinned, “But honestly, getting to spend so much time with you like this is pretty great…”

Xuanxuan rolled her eyes dramatically, ignoring him.

After a while, Hao Dalong began drumming on the steering wheel, humming a tune, “Oh, what a beautiful jasmine flower, oh, what a beautiful jasmine flower~~~”

Xuanxuan wanted nothing more than to slap him.

“Jasmine flower, jasmine flower~~~ Jasmine—oh, damn!” Halfway through, his tone changed abruptly, his expression shifting.

Because, through the windshield, he spotted someone on the steps at the entrance of the exhibition hall.

Xuanxuan was hunched over, munching popcorn. She asked offhandedly, “What now? Annoying…”

“Watanabe Shinji!”

“Pfft…” Xuanxuan spat out a mouthful of unchewed popcorn fragments, jerked her head up, coughing. “Cough cough… Where? Where? Which one?”