Chapter 1 "...lost weight."

Pingcheng, Hilton Hotel rooftop suite

Cui Chengzhou let out a slow breath, his hands trembling slightly under the table: "...President Song, this is our Guangyun Winery's plan. If you think it's feasible, how about we schedule a time to discuss the cooperation in more detail?"

The others in Guangyun also showed expectant eyes, while on the other side of the long table, the man he called President Song wore a pure black suit with subtle patterns, his legs crossed and his fingers naturally interlaced on his lap. He had a very youthful face with a strong aura, high brow bones, and a straight nose. Under the luxurious overhead lights of the hotel private room, his superior and sharp features were highlighted.

Choi Sung-joo was apprehensive. Since the new liquor law was promulgated a few years ago, Gwang-woon has been impacted. With the rise of emerging companies, its market share has been squeezed out. Even the old brands have been struggling in recent years. This time, Gwang-woon is a desperate move to change its old ways and use the Song family's name and production capacity to promote new products and seek change.

However... he looked up at the person in front of him, who seemed to have everything under control and was completely at ease. From the moment he entered the private room, he had kept his eyelids down and remained calm. Now that he had listened to their plan, his face still showed no obvious expression.

Time ticked by, and Cui Chengzhou's fingers slowly tightened. Finally, the other party spoke: "Okay, Ruihong and Guangyun have the same goal on this matter. As a distributor, I can guarantee that the sales of Guangyun Junlang 1788 series can increase by at least 30% within three months, but the profit will not be split 40/60 or 50/50."

Those following Guangyun were clearly getting restless and were about to stand up and argue, but Song Mingli smiled slightly and said, "If your company cannot accept this, you can choose another company."

Choi Sung-joo stared at him intently for a while, his face flushed, before finally collapsing to the ground in despair.

"good."

He murmured to himself, "As expected, they're from the Song family of Pingcheng."

Generally speaking, such a statement would be extremely arrogant for someone in their early twenties, but he knew that the person in front of him certainly had the right to make such a statement.

Young, ambitious, and quick-witted—these are the common perceptions of the young master of the Song family. After graduating from St. Francis High School, he pursued a three-year combined bachelor's and master's degree at one of the top business schools in Sohai. Upon returning, he took over his father's loss-making company and turned it around in just two months. He is here today representing Ruihong, a subsidiary of the SK Group.

Even before graduating from university, he was already given such a project. If he continues to grow, who knows how far he will develop the already enormous Song family.

Song Mingli leaned back slightly and said casually, "Ying Zhu, give him the cooperation agreement."

The person who had been sitting next to him from the beginning stood up upon hearing this, took out a prepared draft of the cooperation from his briefcase, and handed it over with both hands.

Choi Sung-joo sighed inwardly and reached out to take it, but the next second his gaze was involuntarily drawn to it and he stared at it without moving.

The cooperation agreement was printed on fine, smooth paper. However, what was even more striking were the hands that handed over the document. The skin on the hands was extremely thin, the knuckles were long and slender, and the nails were neatly trimmed. The entire hand, reflected on the dark tabletop, looked like it was carved from ice jade.

The person behind him, noticing his pause, asked with some confusion, "President Cui?" Cui Chengzhou snapped out of his daze, took the documents, and began flipping through them rapidly, while glancing furtively at the person who had been sitting next to him from the start.

—He looks so young, maybe twenty? Slender with pure black hair, wearing a well-made, tailored suit, revealing the open collar of his white shirt, he has a kind of attractiveness that doesn't match his age.

Cui Chengzhou looked up, his heart feeling like it was being hooked and pinched. His breath caught in his throat as soon as his gaze landed on that face. The next second, there were two knocks, and he snapped back to reality, only to see the young master of the Song family staring at him with a half-smile, his brows and eyes already cold and sinister.

At that moment, Choi Sung-joo let out a tremendous cough. His colleagues from Gwang-on quickly got up to hand him a tissue, but Choi Sung-joo waved it away, his face turning bright red again.

He used the excuse of looking at the contract to bury himself in the papers, and didn't dare to look at that person again all night.

It was past nine o'clock at night when they finally finished talking. They went back to the company for a brief debriefing meeting. After it ended at ten o'clock, the people who had accompanied them all looked tired. Song Mingli said, "Everyone has worked hard. Go back and get some rest... Yingzhu, you stay here for a bit."

Everyone nodded in agreement and headed out, except for Tang Ronghan, who knew about the relationship between the two. As she left her seat, she froze for a moment and looked at Ying Shixue with some concern.

Ying Shixue shook her head slightly at him, indicating that she was alright.

Meanwhile, Song Mingli's gaze had already turned towards them. Tang Ronghan pursed her lips and could only hurriedly whisper, "Call me if anything happens," before leaving with the others.

As the crowd dispersed, only Ying Shixue and Song Mingli remained in the large conference room. Ying Shixue stood up and walked to the head of the long table, saying, "President Song."

The city lights were already on, and the colorful neon lights outside the window shone through the glass onto his face. The tips of his naturally drooping, long eyelashes seemed to be tinged with light, revealing a kind of indescribable, almost ambiguous beauty.

Song Mingli leaned back in his chair, tilting his head slightly upward, and stared at him for a moment.

"You've lost weight."

Ying Shixue's eyelashes trembled violently as if burned by those words, but within a second or so, she regained her calm and composed demeanor: "President Song, you are joking."

Song Mingli put down the document in his hand, the hard cover hitting the table with a dull thud. Silence returned to the room. After a long while, a low sigh came from the man who had been so arrogant and domineering in the negotiations and meetings, a rare hint of warmth appearing in the night.

"After two years apart, Xiaoxue has definitely grown distant from her brother."

—

Seven years ago, in the state of Den and the city of Vatican

The sky was overcast and the clouds hung low. This bustling avenue in the city center was always congested with traffic. The extended-length Binli drove on the road.

Uncle Li gripped the steering wheel with both hands, swallowed non-existent saliva, and left subtle damp marks of sweat on his palms where he had gripped the steering wheel.

In the back seat, the man was dressed in a sharp, bespoke suit, his gold-rimmed glasses slightly obscuring his overly imposing gaze, and on his lap was the SK Group's annual report that had just been presented to him.

It was actually a very ordinary scene; the head of the Song family was simply returning to a villa in the city after finishing his official business. But today, Li Da took advantage of the moment while waiting at a traffic light to carefully look at another person in the back seat through the front-view mirror.

Wearing a pure white short-sleeved shirt and shorts, revealing fair and smooth arms and calves, which contrasted sharply with her excessively black hair and eyes, she sat on a genuine leather chair, holding a small teddy bear that looked like it was from an unknown period of time.

Generally speaking, eleven or twelve-year-olds are at the age when they should be playing around and causing trouble, but since the car started moving, the other party hasn't said a single word.

Not only did the child not speak, but he also didn't seem to make a sound, not even adjusting his posture or the rustling of his clothes. Everything was too quiet.

Quietly... as if this person didn't exist, Li Da's heart pounded. Looking at the child's delicate and flawless face in the rearview mirror, this was something he had never experienced before. Besides, wasn't President Song going to bring this child to the Wisteria Mansion in this direction? But wasn't the Wisteria Mansion bought to make it convenient for the young master to study near the school? Speaking of which, today seems to be the day the young master's school is on holiday. What if the two of them bump into each other... As he was thinking these random thoughts, he looked at the rearview mirror again and suddenly met a pair of sharp, cold, and pitch-black eyes.

Li Da's heart skipped a beat. For a moment, the steering wheel slipped from his hands. He reacted quickly and slammed on the brakes. At the same time, there was a screeching sound as the tires screeched against the ground. The car lurched forward and then came to a stop. He heard shouts and honking from other drivers outside. In just a few seconds, Li Da was already drenched in cold sweat.

When he calmed down and looked in the rearview mirror again, the child with translucent white skin had returned to his original quiet and harmless appearance, as if that terrifying and heart-pounding eye contact had never happened.

Song Qi turned a page of the document in his hand, his gaze not moving, but his brows furrowed imperceptibly.

Li Da apologized repeatedly, restarted the car, and slowly drove onto the main road.

Twenty minutes later

The car was parked within the white lines. A servant who had been waiting for a long time opened the car door and stood respectfully to one side. The hand-tanned leather shoes of the most experienced artisans in Gleneagles landed on the expensive Taj Mahal marble floor. The man was tall and well-proportioned, and the dark light on the smooth Taj Mahal marble floor shone through him.

The butler respectfully stepped forward to greet him, but before he could say anything, he saw Song Qi simply shake his head slightly, then turn his body slightly from the car door and look down into the car.

......Um?

Feng Liang'an subconsciously followed his movement and looked over. Although he was prepared, his heart sank when he saw the other person in the car.

I received a message this morning saying that the master and the second young master would be returning this afternoon, and that they should be prepared.

Second Young Master, but since Song Qi completely suppressed all his uncles and brothers and took over the SK Group ten years ago, there has clearly only been one eldest young master in the Song family!

However, five seconds, ten seconds, a minute passed, and the people inside the car did not make a sound at all.

No one had ever made the actual leader of SK waste so much time. Feng Liang'an frowned, but then saw Song Qi turn even further to the side and, in an extremely rare move, extend his palm upwards.

The person in the car seemed to be making a difficult decision, but Song Qi didn't urge him, and the height and arc of his outstretched arm didn't change at all.

Finally, that person seemed to have made up their mind about something, like a soft, timid little animal that had just arrived in a new place and finally mustered up the courage to take a step out. Although their face was not visible, it inexplicably made people feel soft-hearted and a protective instinct arose spontaneously.

The pure white fabric moved slowly, and a slender, pale hand gradually emerged from the car and was placed on a palm several times larger than itself. The joints were slender and narrow, with a pale pink hue like that of early cherry blossoms. The little finger trembled slightly, as if it wanted to curl up.

The next second, Wen Heping tightened his grip on his hand, and the person who had been vaguely visible from the beginning finally staggered out of the car. He was a child between a child and a teenager, wearing the simplest white summer clothes, and his face showed fear and timidity as he was suddenly exposed to the probing gazes of the crowd.

"Alright, alright." Song Qi patted his back reassuringly. When his gaze swept across the upper ring, everyone present lowered their heads guiltily. Then he gestured to Feng Liang'an with his eyes.

Feng Liang'an perked up. "Sir, everyone is waiting for you in the south living room."

Song Qi smiled and patted Ying Shixue on the shoulder: "Let's go see where you'll be living in the future and your teachers for the next three months."

The interior of the Wisteria Mansion is extremely large. After passing through the long corridor, you finally stop in front of a wooden door with a dark pattern and carvings.

The young man, in the prime of his life, easily pushed open the door that seemed too heavy for Ying Shixue at the moment, leading him into the room. The people who had been sitting around the leather sofa stood up as they entered, saying, "President Song."

"Chen Hui should have told you everything before we came," Song Qi said casually, gently stroking the soft black hair on the back of the child's head.

“Yes.” A middle-aged man with a crew cut cautiously stepped forward: “Assistant Chen said that we should teach the young master all the relevant knowledge within the next three months.”

“Okay,” Song Qi replied, “Xiaoxue is young and started school late. Please bear with her for the next three months.”

"Not at all..." "Mr. Song, you flatter us..." "It's our honor to teach the young master..."

Meng Xunbin wiped non-existent sweat from his forehead. A week ago, Chen Hui, the special assistant from SK headquarters, came directly to his office. When he nervously welcomed him in, the other party placed a check in front of him without saying a word. The check contained an astonishing amount, and the requirement was to be the exclusive private tutor of the second young master of the Song family for the next three months.

Taking advantage of the large crowd, he carefully observed the second young master who had caused such a commotion for the Song family. He had soft black hair, snow-white cheeks, and clear, bright eyes like some kind of precious obsidian.

Wen Xunbin sighed inwardly, hoping that the child would be easy to get along with.

The head of the Song family has always been strict about time. After taking the children to meet the servants and teachers, he would go to the next event.

Chen Hui, who had been following Song Qi since getting off the bus, glanced at his watch discreetly; it was already past the allotted twenty minutes.

The servants silently escorted Song Qi back to the main hall where they had started. He looked at the young child still tugging at his sleeve and frowned imperceptibly. He waved his hand, about to say something, when a strange noise suddenly came from outside the door.

The heavy, ornately carved, gilded door was easily pushed open, and the boy stepped in with his long legs casually. He carried a black leather briefcase over one shoulder with his hand behind his back, and in the backlight, his St. Francis-style school uniform made him look even taller and more proportionate.

His dark gold short hair was unruly half-combed back, revealing a face so sharp and fierce that it could almost be described as arrogant and unruly.

Feng Liang'an's expression hardened. "Young Master."

Song Mingli seemed surprised by the large number of people in the living room. After a pause, he nodded slightly to him. The servants had already lowered their eyes, not daring to look, and the hall was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

Song Mingli finally stopped two meters away from Song Qi, his shoulders and back straight and upright. He stared directly at Song Qi for a moment, then the hand that had been carrying his briefcase over his shoulder fell naturally to his side.

"Father."

Song Qi then gave him a lukewarm look and hummed in response.

Feng Liang'an clenched his fists, desperately sensing the tense atmosphere that was rising again.

Two strikingly similar faces stood facing each other, one of them having just grown gleaming claws, while the other had been in a high position for many years, the power and influence of time and the pinnacle of authority having imbued him with an indescribable charm and aura, so sharp that one dared not look directly at him.

Song Qi looked at his son with a thoughtful expression. "St. Francis has started summer school?"

Song Mingli replied neither servilely nor arrogantly, "Yes."

Song Qi nodded indifferently, then suddenly thought of something and smiled, pushing the child next to him forward, "This is the second young master of the Song family, he will be your younger brother from now on."

"Xiaoxue, come here and call me brother."

Feng Liang'an looked up at the two people facing each other in astonishment. No one present expected that Song Qi would so blatantly reveal this fact to the young master!

In a family of great wealth and power, the leader, who was at the height of his authority, brought home an eleven-year-old child instead of the obvious heir.

Completely disregarding how much public sentiment this action will cause.

For a moment, Ying Shixue almost had the illusion that he was being stared at by the cold, menacing eyes of some large, predatory beast before its hunt. The chilling aura that rose up his spine and the sharp intuition of danger warned him to run away, but in reality, to outsiders, he stood firmly in place like a nail.

In the end, Song Mingli smiled first. He was indeed very good-looking, inheriting all the excellent genes from his father and his deceased mixed-race mother. Apart from his inherently distinctive narrow eyes, his brow bone was even more aggressive.

He suddenly broke into a smile, which inexplicably gave off a bright and youthful vibe.

Is this my younger brother?

He looked at the child's thin neck, so delicate it seemed a slight gust of wind could break it, and asked casually.

Feng Liang'an, standing nearby, was so frightened that he almost stopped breathing. What were the master and the young master doing? He then looked at the future young master of the Song family, who had been at the center of the storm from the beginning, but from his direction and angle, he could only see the other's profile, which was as white as ice.

Song Qi supported him steadily from behind with one large hand. "Mm."

"Xiaoxue, don't you like this older brother?"

The question was so sharp it pierced to the heart. Feng Liang'an didn't dare look at the young master's expression; his face was stiff, cold sweat pouring down his back. He opened his mouth, desperately trying to say something to make amends, but then he saw the child, who had kept his face down the whole time and hadn't uttered a single word, suddenly raise his unreal, beautiful face and let out a pale, weak, yet beautiful smile that seemed out of place for his age.

"I like it, brother."

Almost everyone present was stunned by the laughter, even Song Qi was taken aback. The still too young and frail boy then repeated it again in a soft but extremely clear voice.

"I like it, brother."