Chapter 52

Chapter 52: Charity Gala

At the entrance of the Zhou Ji Hotel in Cloud City, everything looked freshly staged for the night. A red carpet stretched from the curb all the way to the gleaming lobby doors.

Luxury cars crowded the drive. One after another, nobles and elites stepped out and flowed onto the carpet.

To Cloud City’s biggest shots, the Jin Ying Festival might as well have been another city’s weather—irrelevant, barely worth noticing.

But to the wealthy families of Cloud City, today was a major day. A day people paid attention to, even if they pretended they didn’t.

This was the Charity Gala hosted once every three years, led by Yan Jing’s richest man. Receiving an invitation wasn’t just access—it was recognition.

Almost everyone who attended was a heavyweight among the wealthy. If you could show your face here, your family, your company, your future could rise a step overnight.

After all, a connection with the richest man wasn’t something an ordinary banquet could compare to.

Inside the hall, people toasted and smiled, trading pleasantries beneath chandeliers. Soft music drifted through the vast space. Flowers and elegant silhouettes blurred together—names and titles, wealth and pedigree, gathered in one place.

The men looked tall and imposing in tailored suits; the women were delicate and captivating, jeweled and luminous. With a single glance, it was enough to make someone dizzy.

The gala was divided into two parts. The first half was the banquet, from 6:30 to 8:00.

From 8:15 to 9:30 came the second half—the charity auction.

All proceeds would be used for public welfare, and every account and transaction would be published online.

It was one of the main reasons Yan Jing’s richest man enjoyed such a spotless reputation.

During the first half, the younger generation worked the room—young masters and young ladies from various families making introductions, exchanging smiles, measuring each other with practiced ease.

As for the real big shots, they tended to appear in the second half.

“Jingjing, you look so beautiful in this dress.” Wu Lan watched Xu Shu Jing like she was staring at a lifeline. “President Xu really is good to you.”

Ever since President Xu returned, Wu Lan’s confidence had grown steadier by the day. Naturally, she praised Xu Shu Jing with even more fervor. This was the most promising card in her hand.

Xu Shu Jing studied herself in the mirror. Bright, polished, radiant. The image satisfied her—especially when she pictured herself stepping into the hall with that man. The joy in her chest swelled, impossible to hide.

On the other side, Qiao Qing Yan stepped into the company car sent to pick her up.

In the driver’s seat sat a man around 27 or 28. His calm gaze looked detached, as if nothing in this world truly mattered. He had refined features, and the faint arc of his brows gave him the air of a flirtatious young master.

In the dim evening light, he inclined his head. “Miss Qiao looks very beautiful today.”

Qiao Qing Yan had intended to sit in the back. For some reason, after he spoke first, she curved her lips and opened the front passenger door instead.

A flicker of surprise crossed his eyes.

“Miss Qiao,” he said as she buckled her seat belt, “aren’t you worried about your reputation…?”

She turned her head, calm. “Would Mr. Si worry?”

He chuckled under his breath. “My rumored girlfriends could probably circle Cloud City once.”

So, no. Of course he wouldn’t.

“But Miss Qiao is different.”

She looked at him with clean, composed eyes. “Different how? One is a washed-up celebrity with scandals. One is a rich family’s playboy young master.”

Her lips curved slightly. “Sounds like a perfect match.”

His hand tightened on the steering wheel, instinctively, before he forced it to relax again. He lifted his brows, smiling.

“If Miss Qiao is willing, it would naturally be my honor. After all, a beauty like you…” His tone tilted into teasing. “I believe very few people in this world could refuse you.”

Qiao Qing Yan leaned in just a little. Her fragrance brushed past him, light and soft, and her voice followed—slow, effortless.

“Then it depends on how much sincerity Young Master Si has.”

The next second, she settled back as if she hadn’t moved at all and took out her phone.

As if everything that had just happened was nothing more than his imagination—a dream that vanished the moment he woke.