Signing for a Courtyard House Between Cocktail Parties

At nine o'clock sharp the next morning, Su Jin arrived on the thirty-sixth floor of an office building on East Third Ring Road.

Shen Mingwei had found her the office space. Renovations had been completed less than a month ago, and the entire floor covered 1,200 square meters. Half was reserved for Shen Mingwei's team to run the guesthouse and hotel operations, and half for Cheng Yan to manage the art investment business.

The remaining corner office at the very back, measuring 120 square meters, was reserved for her.

Beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows was the skyline of the entire CBD. China Zun was so close it seemed she could reach out and touch it. Sunlight streamed through the glass, spreading a broad pool of warmth across the dark gray carpet.

The office had a minimalist design: a large walnut executive desk stood before a wall of bookshelves. The shelves were not yet full, holding only a few rows of books on art investment and hotel management, all selected for her by Cheng Yan and Shen Mingwei.

A sofa set stood by the window, its beige leather upholstery set in walnut frames. On the coffee table sat a tea set and a small moth orchid.

Zhou Ye was already waiting with the others.

There were five of them, all around thirty, all with crew cuts, and all with a capable, efficient air. Standing there, they looked like five straight poplars.

Zhou Ye introduced them one by one. Some had retired from the armed police special forces, one had come from the Snow Leopard Commando Unit, one had spent five years in private security, and one specialized in crisis management.

One of them was a woman, thirty-one years old. She had been a reconnaissance soldier before leaving the military and specialized in close protection and counter-surveillance.

Su Jin looked them over one by one, her gaze lingering on the female team member for an extra second.

Her name was Fang Ying. She was 1.68 meters tall, with short hair and clean-cut features. She stood with her back straight, her gaze sharp but not aggressive.

"Hello, Ms. Su," Fang Ying said. Her voice was quiet but clear and firm.

Su Jin nodded without saying much.

Zhou Ye handed her a document containing detailed profiles of the five, including their past experience and assessments of their professional skills.

She leafed through it, closed it, and looked at the five people.

"Sorry for the trouble from now on," she said, her tone even but sincere. "I have only three requirements: professionalism, reliability, and absolute discretion. If you can meet them, stay. If you can't, you can leave now."

Nobody moved.

She nodded and gestured for Zhou Ye to take them to complete their onboarding procedures.

The five filed out, leaving only her and Zhou Ye in the office. Zhou Ye looked at her, as if he wanted to say something but hesitated.

"What is it you want to ask?" Su Jin walked over to the window and looked at the view outside.

Zhou Ye hesitated, but spoke in the end. "Ms. Su, about Fang Ying-I wasn't originally planning to recruit a woman, but she was simply too outstanding. Her qualifications were better than the others' in every respect. If you find it inconvenient-"

"There's nothing inconvenient about it." Su Jin cut him off. "Women are actually more suitable on certain occasions. You made the right choice."

Zhou Ye breathed a sigh of relief, nodded, and turned to leave.

[Host,] Little Golden Egg popped out. [This system noticed the look you gave Fang Ying just now. Do you think there's something special about her too?]

Su Jin ignored Little Golden Egg and continued looking out the window.

After a few seconds, she finally spoke. "There's something in her eyes."

[What?]

"A story," Su Jin said. "Only people with stories have that kind of look in their eyes."

At two that afternoon, Su Jin arrived at a hot pot restaurant on Gulou East Street.

The restaurant was small, tucked deep inside a hutong. There wasn't even a signboard at the entrance, only a faded wooden plaque bearing the words "Old Li's Hot Pot."

She pushed open the creaking wooden door and stepped into a room filled with steam. The smell of charcoal from the copper pots mingled with the aroma of sesame sauce and rushed toward her. Nearly all the dozen or so tables were occupied, and voices, clinking glasses, and chopsticks tapping against pot rims blended into a lively background din.

Meng Qi had already claimed the table by the window. When she saw Su Jin come in, she immediately stood up and waved. "Su Jin! Over here!"

She was dressed more casually than she had been in Chengdu: a loose beige sweater with a wide neckline that exposed half a collarbone, dark blue jeans with the cuffs rolled up twice, and white sneakers. Her hair was tied in a bun, revealing her entire small, rounded face.

She looked like a college student who hadn't graduated yet, and fit in unexpectedly well among the Beijing locals around her in their down jackets, holding bowls of sesame sauce.

Su Jin sat down across from her, looked around, and smiled. "How did you find a place like this?"

"I have lots of friends in Beijing." Meng Qi lifted her chin proudly. "This place has been open for more than twenty years. The owner's a genuine old Beijinger. Copper pots, charcoal fires, hand-cut lamb, and sesame sauce he mixes himself-it's a hundred times better than those internet-famous places. Just wait, I've already ordered. I guarantee you'll want to come back after you've eaten here."

Before she had finished speaking, a server arrived carrying a large tray: two copper pots, a platter of freshly hand-cut lamb, a platter of lamb chuck roll, a plate of tripe, frozen tofu, napa cabbage, glass noodles, sweet pickled garlic, and two bottles of Beibingyang.

Meng Qi deftly put the meat into the pots as she talked. "You can't cook lamb too long. Fish it out as soon as it changes color, or it'll get tough. You have to mix your own sesame sauce-add chive flower sauce, fermented bean curd, cilantro, chili oil, whatever you like. The sweet garlic cuts through the richness. Have a clove after the meat. It's great."

Su Jin followed her example and mixed herself a bowl of sesame sauce. She picked up a slice of freshly cooked lamb, dipped it in the sauce, and put it in her mouth.

The lamb was fresh and tender, the sesame sauce rich and fragrant. Mingled with the distinctive savory saltiness of chive flower sauce, it melted on her tongue.

"Good, right?" Meng Qi watched her expectantly.

Su Jin nodded and picked up another slice.

Satisfied, Meng Qi raised her Beibingyang and clinked it against hers. "Come on, a toast to our reunion in Beijing!"

The two ate hot pot and chatted.

Meng Qi said she had come to Beijing this time to discuss a partnership. Her family wanted to expand their liquor business into the Beijing market, and her father had sent her ahead to lay the groundwork.

Su Jin asked how the talks were going. Meng Qi said they were still in progress. The other party was an old hand and not easy to deal with, but she was in no hurry; she would just keep working at it.

"Anyway, I'm not expecting to settle it in one go." Meng Qi spoke indistinctly around a bite of sweet pickled garlic. "Getting out, meeting more people, and learning a few things is good enough. My dad's always saying I can't keep my cool. This time I'll show him I can."

Su Jin looked at her and felt there was something very likable about her: she didn't put on airs, hide things, or complain. When she ran into a problem, she simply said, "I'll keep working at it," as breezily as clouds drifting and wind blowing.

"What about you?" Meng Qi asked. "What have you been busy with these past few days back in Beijing?"

"Meeting people," Su Jin said. "The security team, the board of directors, and a few friends."

Meng Qi's eyes lit up. "What board of directors? Did you start a company?"

Su Jin thought about it and decided there was nothing she couldn't say. "I just bought a stake in Poly Auction."

Meng Qi's chopsticks nearly fell into the pot. "Poly Auction? That Poly? The Poly that's auctioned paintings and calligraphy for hundreds of millions?"

Su Jin nodded.

Meng Qi stared at her for three seconds, then let out a long breath. "Su Jin, who on earth are you? You got seven courtyard houses in Shuanglang, bought a stake in Poly Auction, and flew to Chengdu on a private jet. Don't tell me you're the heiress of some low-profile wealthy family?"

Su Jin laughed. "No. I just got lucky."

"Lucky?" Meng Qi pursed her lips. "That's way too much luck. But forget it. If you won't tell me, I won't ask. Either way, I'm definitely going to be your friend." She raised her Beibingyang again. "Come on, another toast-to my friend, the Poly shareholder!"

It was nearly five by the time they came out of the hot pot restaurant. Darkness fell early in Beijing in winter, and the streetlights in the hutong had just come on, their dim yellow halos looking especially warm in the cold air.

Meng Qi said she had plans that evening and left first. Before going, she repeatedly reminded Su Jin that she absolutely had to go to the show with her tomorrow. It was a launch show by a designer friend, she said, and would be especially interesting.

Su Jin agreed and watched her climb into a ride-hailing car, then slowly walked toward the end of the hutong.

Zhou Ye and Fang Ying appeared from somewhere and followed her at a distance that was neither too close nor too far.

This was a rule Zhou Ye had set: from now on, at least two people would accompany her when she went out, one to observe ahead and the other to watch the rear.

Su Jin had thought it a little excessive at first, but Zhou Ye said it was standard practice, so she let him have his way.

As she reached the mouth of the hutong, her phone vibrated.

It was a message from Cheng Yan: Shen Nian has confirmed. Three tomorrow afternoon, at her studio. I've sent you the address.

She replied: Okay.

It vibrated again. This time it was Xu Yanqiu: Ms. Su, I heard from Meng Qi that you're in Beijing too. If you're free, would you like to have dinner tomorrow evening? A few friends would like to meet you.

She looked at the message, thought for a moment, and replied: I have something on tomorrow afternoon, but I'm free in the evening.

Xu Yanqiu replied instantly: Seven tomorrow evening, then. I'll send you the address.

The third message was from Lu Shen: For Saturday night's cocktail party, do you need me to have someone send over a dress? One of our partner brands has a few haute couture gowns that might suit you.

She looked at the message, the corners of her mouth curving upward, and replied: No need. I have one.

At ten to three the next afternoon, Su Jin arrived at the entrance to a studio in the 798 Art District.

The premises had been converted from an old factory. The iron door was painted dark gray, and a small brass plaque set beside it read "Shen Nian Studio."

She pushed the door open and entered a high-ceilinged space of more than a hundred square meters, with exposed concrete walls and a cement floor. Natural light poured through a skylight, falling directly on several easels.

Shen Nian looked younger in person than in her photographs. Born in 1992, she was only thirty-two this year. She wore a loose black sweater with the sleeves rolled up to her forearms, exposing her slender wrists. Several bracelets adorned them-wooden beads, silver chains, and a red cord, all mixed together yet unexpectedly harmonious.

She was mixing colors on a palette. Hearing the door, she looked up, and her gaze settled on Su Jin for a full two seconds.

"Su Jin?" She put down her palette, wiped her hands on her apron, and came over. "Cheng Yan told me you were beautiful, but he didn't say you were this beautiful."

Su Jin smiled and held out her hand. "Hello, Ms. Shen."

Shen Nian took her hand and, without letting go, pulled her farther inside. "Don't call me Ms. Shen. Just call me Shen Nian. Come, let me show you the batch I'm working on."

The painting was still in progress, but its general shape was already visible. It was a sea, yet not quite like one. The color was too deep, almost black, with only a glimmer of light showing at the edges.

Something floated on the surface of the sea. It was impossible to make out clearly: it looked like a boat, or a bird, or perhaps only some broken shadows.

Su Jin stopped in front of the painting and looked at it for a long time.

Shen Nian didn't hurry her. She simply stood beside her, occasionally adding a stroke to the canvas with her brush.

"What's this one called?" Su Jin finally asked.

"Place of Return," Shen Nian said. "It isn't finished yet. I don't know what it'll look like in the end."

Su Jin turned to look at her, a trace of inquiry in her eyes. "When you paint, you don't know what you'll end up creating?"

Shen Nian smiled, a faint smile that, like the woman herself, carried a touch of distant gentleness.

"No," she said. "I just start painting, and then the painting leads me along. Wherever it goes, it goes."

Su Jin nodded and continued looking at the painting.

After another ten minutes, she spoke. "When this painting is finished, I'd like to buy it."

The brush in Shen Nian's hand paused, and she turned to look at her.

"It isn't finished yet," she said. "What if you don't like the result?"

Su Jin gazed at the nearly black sea, at the tiny bit of struggling light along its edge.

"I will," she said.

Shen Nian stared at her for a few seconds, then smiled, a very slight smile, but there was light in her eyes.

"All right," she said. "I'll let you know when it's finished."

At seven that evening, Su Jin arrived at a private-dining restaurant called Crabapple on East Third Ring Road.

The place was hidden on the second floor of an old office building. There was no sign at the entrance, only a server in a qipao waiting there, who checked her reservation before leading her inside.

They passed through a corridor hung with bamboo blinds and pushed open a carved wooden door. Inside was a moderately sized private room with a table for eight. The window faced the illuminated Third Ring Road, where traffic formed a flowing river of light in the night.

Xu Yanqiu had already arrived and was talking with two other people. When he saw her enter, he immediately stood and took two steps forward to greet her.

"Ms. Su, you're here." He wore a dark gray cashmere cardigan over a white shirt, no tie, and his trademark gold-rimmed glasses. He looked too refined to be in investment, more like a university professor.

Su Jin nodded and glanced at the other two: a man around thirty, with thick brows, large eyes, and well-proportioned features, wearing a well-tailored dark blue suit and sitting ramrod straight;

The other was a young woman of twenty-five or twenty-six, with long curly hair, exquisite makeup, and a sequined dress that sparkled under the lights.

Xu Yanqiu began the introductions. The man was Song Huai, who invested in film and television. He ran his own company and had invested in several hit dramas, earning himself a modest reputation in the industry;

The woman was Jiang Yao, a fashion blogger with more than six million followers on Weibo. She had her own clothing brand and had just secured a round of funding.

Song Huai stood to shake Su Jin's hand. His gaze lingered on her face for a moment before quickly moving away, and he smiled and said, "I've heard a lot about you."

Jiang Yao was more direct. She pulled Su Jin down into a seat, her eyes shining. "Oh my god, how is your skin so good? What skincare products do you use? What brand of foundation? Tell me, quick!"

Su Jin found her questions a little amusing, but answered patiently. "I use a mix of Cellcosmet and La Mer. I'm not wearing any base makeup today, just sunscreen."

Jiang Yao's eyes widened. She leaned in for a closer look, then let out an exaggerated sigh. "No base makeup? Are you even human? My skin isn't as good as yours even with foundation on!"

Xu Yanqiu laughed beside them. "That's how Jiang Yao reacts whenever she sees a beauty. Don't mind her, Ms. Su."

Jiang Yao rolled her eyes at him. "What do you mean, that's how I react whenever I see a beauty? It means I have a normal sense of aesthetics, okay? If you got to look at someone on Ms. Su's level every day, could you say something like 'don't mind her'?"

Song Huai added another stab from the side. "He'd love to see her every day, but he'd need the chance first."

All four laughed, and the atmosphere immediately relaxed.

The dishes arrived one after another. They were Cantonese, as delicate as works of art. Su Jin ate while listening to them chat.

Song Huai talked about a project he was currently discussing, an IP adaptation of a suspense drama. The original work was hugely popular, but adapting it was difficult, and he hadn't been satisfied with any of the several screenwriters he had approached;

Jiang Yao complained about the manufacturer for her clothing brand. The quality was inconsistent, and deliveries were always late, so she was considering switching to another one;

Xu Yanqiu occasionally joined the conversation, occasionally topped up Su Jin's tea, and occasionally passed her a dish. He was attentive and considerate without being overly solicitous.

Halfway through the meal, Song Huai suddenly looked at Su Jin. "Ms. Su, Xu Yanqiu tells me you have shares in Poly?"

Su Jin nodded. "I just bought them."

"That's great." Song Huai's eyes lit up. "We've been preparing a charity auction gala recently and were worried we couldn't find a reliable auction house to work with. Do you know anyone at Poly? Could you introduce us?"

Su Jin thought for a moment. "The board meets next week. I can ask."

Song Huai immediately raised his glass. "Thanks in advance! If it works out, I'll treat you to dinner."

Su Jin clinked glasses with him and took a small sip.

Jiang Yao, watching from beside them, suddenly said, "Su Jin, do you attend many events? Have you ever thought about becoming a fashion blogger? With your looks, anything you casually shoot would go viral."

Su Jin laughed. "Where would I find the time?"

"True." Jiang Yao nodded. "Someone like you, who's her own boss, must be busy. But if you ever need someone for an event, you can call me. I'll show up to support you, free of charge."

Su Jin looked at the young woman and thought that, although she was loud, she was quite cute.

"Okay," she said.

It was nearly ten by the time they came out of Crabapple.

Xu Yanqiu walked her to the entrance and said they should meet again next time.

Jiang Yao pulled her aside to add her on WeChat, saying they absolutely had to meet for afternoon tea sometime.

Song Huai handed her a business card and said he was counting on her for the charity auction.

Once in the car, Su Jin leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes.

[Host,] Little Golden Egg popped out. [What did you think of tonight's gathering?]

"Pretty good," she said.

[That Song Huai, the one who invests in film and television-this system checked him out. His background is clean, and he has a good reputation in the industry. As for Jiang Yao, the fashion blogger, her follower count is genuine, and she's good at driving sales. Her clothing brand may be small, but the designs are decent. What it lacks is a supply chain.]

Su Jin opened her eyes and watched the lights flash past outside the window.

"Are you screening contacts for me?"

[This system simply thinks all these people could be useful.] Little Golden Egg was serious for once. [Song Huai can bring you into film and television, Jiang Yao can bring you into fashion, and Xu Yanqiu can help you expand your contacts in the investment world. Now is the time for you to make friends far and wide. The more friends you have, the easier the road is to travel.]

Su Jin said nothing.

After a few seconds, she suddenly asked, "What's on the schedule tomorrow?"

[Tomorrow at ten in the morning, the Poly board meeting; at two in the afternoon, the preparation meeting for the opening of the buyer's boutique in Wangfujing; and in the evening-Lu Shen's cocktail party.]

Su Jin nodded and closed her eyes again.

The car drove along Chang'an Avenue. Lights shone brightly outside the window, and Tiananmen Square stood solemn and majestic in the night.

She leaned back in her seat, her face flickering between light and shadow as the lights outside swept past, yet its expression remained composed.

Seven

At ten on the morning of the third day, Su Jin arrived on time at the conference room in the Poly Building.

The conference room was on the thirty-sixth floor, with a floor-to-ceiling window taking up an entire wall and facing the traffic on the Second Ring Road.

The sunlight was bright, making the flowers in the middle of the long conference table look even more vibrant. Twelve people sat around the table: an elderly gentleman with graying hair, middle-aged men in suits and leather shoes, and two young people about her age-

One was said to be the founder's grandson, newly returned from studying abroad; the other was the son of a major shareholder, also learning to manage his family's business.

Su Jin sat in her assigned seat, second only to the chairman's.

Today she wore that dark gray Armani power suit, with sharp shoulders and crisply tailored trousers. Her hair was swept up, revealing her entire face and her Cartier panther earrings. Her makeup was a touch heavier than usual-her eyeliner flicked slightly upward, and on her lips was Armani's red-tube lip lacquer in shade 400, a true red. Her commanding presence was on full display.

The chairman's surname was Zhao. He was in his sixties and had worked at the auction house for forty years. His hair was entirely silver, but he was vigorous and sharp.

He introduced the new shareholder, Su Jin, and said that Poly's future development would depend on everyone working together.

Su Jin stood and gave a slight bow, saying, "I look forward to working with you," before sitting back down. She said little throughout, but every glance made it clear she was not to be underestimated.

The meeting lasted more than two hours. They discussed arrangements for this year's spring auction, the acquisition of several key lots, and possible partnerships with several international auction houses.

Su Jin listened more than she spoke. Now and then, she asked a question or two, each one right on the mark-about the reasoning behind a lot's valuation, a collector's preferences, or the revenue split for a potential partnership.

After the meeting, Chairman Zhao asked her to stay and took her to see Poly's storage facility.

The facility was on the third basement level, behind layers of security. Getting in required facial recognition, a fingerprint, and a password.

The temperature and humidity were kept constant inside. Row upon row of shelves held all kinds of collectibles-paintings and calligraphy, porcelain, jade, antique furniture, and works by contemporary artists.

"Pick anything in here and take it out, and it would be enough to support an ordinary person for a lifetime," Chairman Zhao said with a smile, a hint of pride and feeling in his voice.

"If you ever need anything, Ms. Su, just say the word. This business runs on connections and resources. You're young; take your time. There's no rush."

Su Jin nodded, thanked him, and took her leave.

After walking out of the Poly Building, she stood by the entrance waiting for her car. Looking at the traffic across the street, she suddenly asked Little Golden Egg, "What's the total value of everything in that storage facility?"

[This system took a rough scan. Including what's in the vault, it comes to around eight billion.] Little Golden Egg said, [And that doesn't include the spring auction lots being acquired or previewed.]

Su Jin nodded without speaking.

The car arrived, and she got in. "Wangfujing," she told the driver.

Eight

At two in the afternoon, Su Jin arrived at The Star, the boutique.

The renovations were largely finished, and the workers were doing the final cleaning and tidying. Rows of clothes, bags, and accessories air-freighted from Paris hung on the racks. They were all the latest pieces for the season, and some had yet to be officially released in Paris.

Store Manager Chen accompanied her through the building floor by floor, explaining as they went-the first floor was for ready-to-wear and accessories; the second housed VIP rooms and the bespoke area; the third held offices and storage; and the fourth and fifth were planned as an art gallery and event space, with a small exhibition or salon to be held each month after opening.

Su Jin sat down in the third-floor office and listened to Store Manager Chen's report on the opening preparations-media invitations had already gone out, and more than thirty fashion media outlets were expected to attend; the VIP guest list had also been finalized, made up of high-end clients Store Manager Chen had cultivated over the years, along with some contacts provided by Shen Mingwei;

There would also be a small fashion show on opening day, with several well-known models invited to walk the runway.

"Is the budget enough?" Su Jin asked.

Store Manager Chen gave her a figure.

Su Jin listened, then nodded. "Add another two million. Get the fourth-floor art gallery done properly in one go. We need to make it memorable on opening day."

Store Manager Chen was momentarily stunned, then immediately nodded. "All right, I'll get on it."

By the time Su Jin left the boutique, it was nearly four. Standing by the road and looking at Oriental Plaza across the street, she suddenly remembered something.

"Are there any courtyard houses for sale nearby?" she asked.

[The host wants to buy a courtyard house?] Little Golden Egg popped up. [Let this system check-one moment-yes, there are a few in Dongcheng District. One is next to Shichahai, in a particularly good location. It's just expensive.]

"How expensive?"

[The asking price is 380 million,] Little Golden Egg said. [It's a three-courtyard house, covering 1,200 square meters, with a garden and a garage. It used to be a private club, but the owner is emigrating and wants to sell quickly.]

Su Jin thought for a moment. "Can I see it now?"

[Let this system get in touch-the other party says yes. You can go over right now.]

Su Jin gave the driver an address, and the car turned onto Chang'an Avenue, heading toward Shichahai.

Nine

At four thirty, Su Jin stood outside the gate of a courtyard house beside Shichahai.

The entrance was a grand guangliang gate, typical of old Beijing, painted vermilion, with exquisite brick carvings on the lintel. Two bronze door knockers gleamed in the afternoon sun.

Two old scholar trees stood by the entrance, their trunks so thick it would take two people joining arms to encircle them. Their crowns were bare in winter, but it was easy to imagine their shade in summer.

The agent was a middle-aged man in his forties, surnamed Ma. He wore a dark blue suit and spoke with a Beijing accent. He pushed the gate open and led Su Jin inside.

The first courtyard had rear-facing rooms, once used as servants' quarters and now converted into a garage and storage rooms.

Beyond the ornate inner gate, the second courtyard opened up before them-five rooms in the main house, three rooms in each of the east and west wings, and a courtyard paved with gray bricks. An old pomegranate tree and a crabapple tree grew there, with a stone table and stools beneath them.

A covered walkway ran in front of the main house. Its beams were decorated with exquisite paintings that, though somewhat faded and mottled, still showed the splendor of former days.

Through a passage beside the main house, the third courtyard held the rear building, once the women's quarters and now converted into the master bedroom and a study.

Behind it was a small garden. Though there wasn't much to see in winter, its ingenious layout was still apparent, with a little bridge over running water, a rockery, and a pavilion.

Su Jin examined every part of the property carefully, occasionally asking questions-about the courtyard's history, the structure of the buildings, the property rights, and how long ago it had been renovated.

Agent Ma answered each question in turn, his manner attentive, though he didn't hold out much hope. Plenty of people looked at courtyard houses costing hundreds of millions, but few bought them. This young woman looked to be only in her twenties; could she afford it?

After touring the property, Su Jin stood in the garden pavilion, looking at the waters of Shichahai in the distance.

The sun was sinking in the west, staining the water gold and red. A few wild ducks swam across the surface, sending out rings of ripples.

"What's the lowest price?" she asked.

Agent Ma froze for a moment, then named a figure.

Su Jin listened, fell silent for a few seconds, and nodded.

"I'll take it," she said.

Agent Ma thought he had misheard. "Ms. Su, you mean-"

"I'll take it," Su Jin repeated. "Full payment, within three days. Prepare the contract."

Agent Ma stood there, his mouth opening and closing, unable to speak for a long moment.

He had worked as a real estate agent for twenty years and seen all kinds of buyers-people who haggled for months, people who came back for viewing after viewing and even brought feng shui masters, and people who finally made up their minds only to have their loans rejected.

But he had never seen anyone look for less than an hour, ask the price once, and say straight out, "I'll take it."

And she was a young woman in her twenties, at that.

"Ms. Su," he said, struggling to find his voice, "are you sure? This is 380 million. That's no small sum-"

Su Jin turned to look at him, her gaze as calm as a still pool.

"I know," she said. "Contact my people when the contract is ready."

With that, she turned and walked out.

Agent Ma stood where he was, watching her retreating figure in its dark gray coat disappear at the end of the covered walkway, his mind completely blank.

Ten

At six forty-five that evening, Su Jin returned to her apartment at the China World Trade Center.

She spent forty minutes quickly removing her makeup, showering, and getting dressed again-the evening's cocktail party was a different occasion, one that called for a different face.

She shed the sharpness of her daytime power suit and washed away the aura of true red from her face. Standing under the shower, she let the hot water carry away the day's fatigue.

Jo Malone rose shower gel, rich, dense lather, and the scent of roses mingled with the steam in the bathroom, gently enveloping her.

After finishing her makeup, she stood up and went to the dressing room.

The guests at the evening's cocktail party would likely be among the capital's very elite-entrepreneurs, investors, artists, socialites, and celebrities.

She was going to wear that Gucci burgundy velvet gown.

Its deep V-neck revealed her delicate collarbones and a small expanse of her chest; the backless cut plunged from her shoulder blades all the way to her waist; the floor-length skirt trailed a short way behind her, brushing lightly against the ground when she walked.

The velvet was substantial and lustrous, and the burgundy made her complexion look even fairer. Standing there, she looked like a noblewoman who had stepped out of a classical oil painting.

For jewelry, she chose that Cartier panther necklace-a panther design fully set with diamonds, with two tiny emeralds for eyes. It rested just below her collarbones and rose and fell slightly with her breathing.

Her earrings were panthers from the same collection, dangling from her earlobes and swaying gently whenever she turned her head. On her wrist she wore only the Van Cleef & Arpels Bonheur watch, its diamonds and rubies glittering under the lights, understated yet impossible to overlook.

Instead of putting her hair up, she wore it loose, the ends curling slightly, making her face look even smaller and more delicate. For lipstick, she chose Tom Ford's slim black-and-gold tube in shade 16, Scarlet Rouge-a little more orange than true red, with a warm sheen under the lights.

She stood before the mirror, looking at the person reflected in it.

The woman in the mirror wore a burgundy gown and dazzling jewels. Her skin was so fair it seemed to glow, and an air of assurance and detachment played across her features.

Looking at that face, she suddenly remembered herself three years ago-the girl who worked overtime until three in the morning and walked twenty minutes to the subway station to save money.

Could she have imagined this scene back then?

[Host,] Little Golden Egg popped up, its voice full of sincere admiration. [Tonight, you are the brightest star in the room.]

Su Jin ignored Little Golden Egg, picked up her burgundy Hermès Constance, and turned to leave.

Downstairs, the car Lu Shen had sent was already waiting.