Chapter 22 Exclusive Release Chapter 22 "I want to kiss you,..."
Elias is here today for a key meeting with an industrial family heir from Europe about new energy investments, which is the main purpose of his visit.
The heir's name is Oliver. He is traditional and conservative, and has a long-standing friendship with the Van der Berg family, but he is somewhat resistant to Elias's aggressive methods on Wall Street.
As the Bentley entered Winged Foot's private driveway, lined with century-old oak trees, Yuan Ning's eyes began to scan the area intently.
The wheels rolled over the carefully paved gravel road, and she sat obediently beside her employer.
Although she didn't know why Elias wanted her to sit closer, she did as he asked.
Elias was disappointed; throughout, she had been very well-behaved and had not done anything offensive despite being so close.
Just before getting off the bus, Yuan Ning suddenly handed her phone to Elias, who was puzzled.
"Boss, when I'm talking to Alexander Kiyokawa later, could you take a picture for me and make sure to frame both of our faces?"
"No." Elias uttered only a single syllable from his thin, cold lips.
Yuan Ning knew he was a bit difficult to deal with, but she was already prepared to act cute.
She rubbed her bottom against him again, grabbing his arm with both hands: "Please, Elias, you are the most handsome man in the world."
“Wynne,” he called her name, his voice extremely low, which was meant as a warning.
He could clearly feel the softness and warmth of her body, and see every subtle expression on her face so close to his, those deliberately amplified coquettish gestures, the cunning hidden beneath her delicate face, and that reckless, burning ambition.
"It's just one photo..." She was very good at being coquettish, "Don't be so stingy."
Elias pursed his lips, reached out and took her phone, indicating his agreement.
Yuan Ning felt a surge of joy, but fearing to upset him, she didn't cheer. Instead, she obediently sat up straight and looked out the window.
Elias then focused his gaze on the back of her neck.
The club's main building is an understated white colonial-era structure, devoid of any flashy features, silently telling its long history.
There is no hustle and bustle here, only a silence solidified by the weight of wealth and history. Even the air is filled with the crisp, slightly astringent scent of freshly cut grass, mixed with the woody aroma of cedar forest.
Passing through the main building, a vast sports field suddenly unfolds before your eyes. This is not a gentle, unobstructed green space; it is more like a huge, strategically designed green chessboard.
Here you'll find greens, sand bunkers, waterways, and trees, with the occasional deep blue pond resembling icy blue eyes, reflecting the sky and the shadows of the trees.
Upon arrival at her destination, a waiter opened the car door for Yuan Ning. As soon as she stepped onto the springy grass, Yuan Ning's mood became incredibly cheerful.
After Elias got out of the car, several acquaintances who had arrived earlier came forward to greet her.
He nodded to each question, only asking about his parents at home.
"The Viscount is in good health, thank you for your concern."
Elias stopped, slowly lit a cigar, then put one hand in his pocket and chatted languidly with the person, sometimes chuckling softly, his voice low and his pace unhurried.
Once Yuan Ning's initial excitement wore off, she stopped looking around and obediently returned to stand behind her employer. She realized that there was nothing more insightful than following Elias, and that following the right boss would save her ten years of detours.
Elias seemed to be surrounded by an invisible magnetic field, and the place where he stood naturally became the center of this small world.
People approached him, speaking respectfully and behaving warmly, but never overstepping the bounds of propriety.
They talked about the charity gala at Sutton Palace, about the upcoming sailing season in Newport, and occasionally exchanged knowing smiles when a name was mentioned, demonstrating the consensus among insiders.
Yuan Ning strained her ears to listen, but she still couldn't fully understand their sudden burst of hearty laughter.
Elias became the center of attention not entirely because of his viscount father, but also because of people like the Viscount Montfort, who were simply afraid that Elias would covet their family's property and seize it crudely using "reckless" methods.
Inevitably, a few older gentlemen would say a few words to him: "Don't learn from those reckless nouveau riche! Those family businesses are ancient and sacred, Elias. You must act within the rules that have been established for thousands of years."
"Are you talking about that winery in your family that was just acquired? Sorry, but since Percival Capital took over, its productivity has increased at least thirtyfold. As for those outdated things, I don't know what you're still clinging to?" Elias shrugged, the smoke from his cigar drifting away with his elegant, slightly mocking gesture.
"Productivity?" The old gentleman, his cheeks flushed, raised his voice slightly. "That's not everything, Elias! It's tradition, it's flavor, it's soul! You've turned it into a canned product on an assembly line! It's utterly ugly to only care about money!"
“Tradition cannot afford the million-dollar annual maintenance costs of the estate, nor can it allow your beloved ‘Sea Breeze’ sailing ship to continue mooring at Newport’s most expensive dock.” Elias’s voice was calm as he glanced at Yuan Ning. “Even a twenty-year-old girl knows that the market only recognizes efficiency and value. The winery is a bad asset in your hands and needs to be taken away. Viscount, keep your voice down and don’t lose your manners.”
The surroundings fell silent for a moment. The gentlemen who had been smiling lost their composure as they noticed a newcomer standing behind Elias.
"Elijas, and who is this?"
Elias did not answer immediately. He slowly took a puff of his cigar, then turned slightly to the side, revealing Yuan Ning in a posture that was not exactly intimate, but clearly indicated a sense of belonging.
“This is Ms. Meng,” he said, glancing at her, “my style consultant.”
"Clothing consultant" is a clear, professional, yet slightly aloof role.
Although a dress consultant was not qualified to accompany the employer to such an occasion, he did not give her an overly high status that might arouse suspicion.
The moment Elias finished speaking, Yuan Ning took a small step forward, stepping out of Elias's shadow with a smile that was somewhere between respect and confidence on her face.
Good morning, gentlemen.
A woman asked, "Mr. Elias, was your outfit today designed by Ms. Meng?"
"Yes, Mrs. Heinrich, as you can see, my dress consultant is very professional."
Yuan Ning turned her gaze with delight and flattery to Elias, who was introducing her to them.
"Speaking of which, she was the one Professor Miller strongly recommended to me. It seems there are many outstanding young people among the new generation. We should not blindly stick to old ways."
"You're right."
Soon, Yuan Ning saw Alexander Qingchuan standing not far away, with several people she didn't recognize standing beside him. She didn't know when to go over and say hello.
Elias followed her gaze and whispered in her ear, "Wynne, standing next to him is Louis, the director of the Guggenheim Museum, and the other is Mark, the head of the art foundation."
Yuan Ning turned to look at Elias. She hadn't expected him to bring these things up with her, and in such a gentle and considerate tone.
But after Elias finished speaking to her, he turned to talk to his target for the day, Oliver.
Yuan Ning tugged at his sleeve for help, still not daring to approach and talk to those celebrities based solely on this information.
"Oliver, long time no see. How's business in Europe lately?" Elias spoke first, patting Oliver's arm.
"Not bad. Elias, the weather's really nice today. Come on, let's go play a couple of rounds and stop talking to those old guys."
Oliver was a composed-looking German man with an upright posture, unlike Elias, whose languid yet controlling demeanor was different.
The two exchanged polite greetings, picked up their clubs, and walked together onto the course.
Yuan Ning frowned anxiously; Elias was about to abandon her.
This was her first time in such a setting, and aside from staying by the side of the employer who brought her in, she had no legitimate reason to do anything else. Even the most haughty twenty-year-old girl showed signs of awkwardness at this moment.
Ultimately, she lacked confidence.
After Oliver took a few steps ahead, Elias turned his head and frowned at Wynne.
He looked at her somewhat embarrassed face. She seemed very uneasy, her fingers curled up inside her sleeves, fidgeting nervously, her dark eyes unfocused and aimless.
He was somewhat helpless. Suddenly, he raised his hand to her ear, his fingers stroking the hair on the back of her head, while his palm supported her chin.
"Wynne, didn't I just praise you last night?" His voice was deep and quick, carrying an undeniable command, yet also a gentle seduction.
“Remember why you’re here. You’re not here to beg for attention, you’re here to provide value. Listen to me, go over there, listen, and then, at the right moment, say what you’re prepared to say. If you can’t even do that, then you should start thinking about cashing in on that brooch; it’s already the greatest asset you can acquire in your life.”
“No, no, Elias, that’s not it.” Wynne immediately retorted anxiously. Although the brooch was worth a million dollars, enough for her to buy twenty 100-square-meter apartments in the capital if she returned to China, she did not believe that her life would end there.
Elias's expression softened; he was her god, and he was gently guiding her: "Good girl, go."
Yuan Ning looked into Elias's eyes and gradually straightened her back.
Elias said no more, removed his hand from the back of the girl's head, turned around, and calmly followed Oliver.
"Elijas".
Elias took the cue stick with one hand, casually weighed it in his hand, and looked back at her.
"You have to keep an eye on me."
Elias was somewhat puzzled.
"You have to watch me, you're my support."
Oliver called Elias to stand on the tee box with him. Elias looked out at the undulating fairway in the distance. He squinted; the weather was clearly nice today, with plenty of sunshine.
Oliver had already swung his club and hit the first ball. "Elias, it's your turn."
Yuan Ning didn't wait for Elias to turn around again. He was already focused on examining the fairway, leaning slightly forward. Sunlight fell on his golden hair and broad shoulders, and his knees were slightly bent.
The lifting motion is smooth, without any unnecessary wobbling. The powerful core strength drives the shoulders, back, and arms to form a powerful and perfect arc.
"Great shot!" Oliver exclaimed.
Yuan Ning smiled slightly, took a deep breath, readjusted the subtle expression on her face, picked up her golf club, and started walking towards the small circle where Alexander Kiyokawa was.
Elias glanced at her back; what a good girl.
“Mr. Alexander Kiyokawa, hello. We met the day before yesterday. Do you remember me?”
Yuan Ning stood naturally behind Alexander Qingchuan, a sweet smile on her face.
Alexander Kiyokawa turned around at the sound. He looked to be around forty years old, with a slender build, wearing a dark blue linen shirt of excellent quality, the cuffs casually rolled up to his forearms. His face had the refined features unique to people of French and Japanese descent, and his eyes were calm and deep, able to see through people's appearances.
Yuan Ning understood why Marjorie didn't introduce herself to Alexander in more detail, but instead sent him away.
She may not be qualified as an intern, but the fact that she can stand here today proves that she is.
“Beautiful Oriental girl, I remember you.” Alexander Kiyokawa nodded slightly, his tone calm, showing neither excessive enthusiasm nor displeasure at being disturbed.
Louis, the Guggenheim curator (an elderly man with round-framed glasses and a refined demeanor), and Mark, the head of the arts foundation (a middle-aged man in a casual suit with shrewd eyes), who were standing next to him, also stopped their conversation and looked at Yuan Ning with polite but cautious curiosity.
Upon receiving Baileyas's generous message, Yuan Ning greeted them separately, demonstrating that she was an extremely polite young girl, which impressed the two elders.
“Mr. Kiyokawa, I have actually been studying your Spring/Summer 2000 collection, which combines the sleeve shape of kimono haori with Western three-dimensional tailoring. In particular, your deconstruction of the traditional Nishijin-ori brocade reminded me of Tadao Ando’s treatment of concrete and natural light in the Church of the Light.”
Yuan Ning's voice was clear and steady. She had done a lot of research, but her first sentence had to be the detail that touched Alexander Kiyokawa the most.
Alexander's eyes, which had been as still as a deep pool, slowly blossomed with a smile.
"Oh? What did you see?" Alexander's gaze began to fall intently and with a smile on his face.
Yuan Ning met his gaze, her heart beating steadily in her chest. She knew she had brought up the right topic.
“What I’m particularly curious about is how you found the balance between destruction and respect when dismantling those precious Nishijin textiles? After all, those fabrics themselves represent history and tradition.”
This question touched upon the core dilemma of Alexander's design. He gently supported his golf club, looked out at the lawn, as if organizing his thoughts.
"That's a very good question, ma'am. So-called balance is not actually compromise. The scissors in a designer's hand are cold and precise, but the person wielding them must have reverence for every thread flowing through their fingers. We are not destroying history; we are translating it with a new language, so that it can be seen by new eyes in a new era."
Yuan Ning listened intently, nodding occasionally. During a pause in Alexander's speech, she posed a more ambitious follow-up question: "So, in your opinion, in this day and age, do designers like yourself, with their diverse cultural backgrounds, bear the mission of promoting Eastern aesthetics?"
Curator Louis couldn't help but let out a soft "heh," and asked the little girl with a smile, "What country are you from?"
Yuan Ning nodded slightly to the other party: "I am Chinese, sir."
"As far as I know, your country doesn't even have a decent designer, so the responsibility of promoting Eastern aesthetics naturally falls on Mr. Qingchuan."
In the distance, Elias leaned casually against his golf club, chatting with Oliver about a multi-million dollar investment.
"Elijas, why did you choose a Chinese girl as your style consultant?" Oliver glanced at Yuan Ning, then turned to ask Elias, at the same time a ball was knocked away.
Elias calmly withdrew his gaze: "I'm looking at professional competence, not nationality."
Louis's sarcastic remark, delivered with a smile but utterly condescending, did not elicit any offense or embarrassment from Yuan Ning, nor did she rush to refute it. She merely raised her chin slightly, her tone calm yet powerful:
“Director Louise, you’re right. It’s an undeniable fact that modern Chinese fashion design is still searching for its international language.” She readily acknowledged the situation, but then added, “This is precisely because our profound cultural heritage is like a vast treasure trove, requiring more time and methods to find its unique voice for dialogue with the contemporary world. Oh, and I forgot to introduce myself. I’m studying fashion management at Parsons School of Design. We young people will one day let the world see the depth of Chinese culture.”
Her gaze returned to Alexander Kiyokawa, with a pure respect for knowledge and wisdom: "And that is precisely why Mr. Kiyokawa's designs fascinate me so much."
“Excellent insight, madam.” Alexander nodded slowly, then looked at Louise. “Louis, don’t underestimate young people.”
Louis laughed as well: "You're right, ma'am, please forgive my intrusion."
At this point, he took out a heavy-looking business card from his pocket and handed it to Yuan Ning. “Our art museum is preparing a large-scale exhibition on textile aesthetics. If you are interested, you can participate in the preliminary research as a special researcher. Of course, this will require you to spend a lot of time researching materials and visiting craft workshops.”
Yuan Ning was somewhat flattered; this was a completely unexpected gain for today.
The Guggenheim Museum's commission will be a highlight on her resume, and it means that she can directly access the curators of top art institutions and connect with master craftsmen, contemporary artists, and collectors from around the world through projects.
In this process, she can not only produce feature articles for V magazine, but also enrich her personal blog.
What's even more interesting is that this project happens to overlap significantly with the areas of interest that Alexander Kiyokawa is interested in.
“Kiyokawa’s family is an important successor of Nishijin weaving. If you need, I can ask him to serve as your special advisor,” Louis added with a smile.
Yuan Ning felt a slight dizziness, struck by a huge surprise. She took the business card with both hands, her fingertips trembling with excitement.
Invited Fellow of the Guggenheim Museum! This is the best title she has received so far!
“Director Louis…it’s a tremendous honor.” His dark eyes shone brilliantly. “I will dedicate all my passion and energy to this!”
Mr. Mark, the head of the art foundation who had been observing from the sidelines, took in the girl's undisguised joy. The shrewd look in his eyes softened a little, and he teased with a smile, "Hey, ma'am, calm down. It's no big deal. The fact that you're standing here today already means you've won more than half the battle. Plus, you're quite eloquent and beautiful. It's hard for Louis not to give you this opportunity."
Yuan Ning knew, of course, that Elias had told her that what she said here was far more valuable than what she had said in the gallery the day before. Entering Winged Foot Golf Club was itself an extremely high hurdle.
“Well then,” Alexander said gently, “madam, why don’t you play a few rounds with us first, and let’s not talk about work anymore.”
At this moment, the sun shines brightly, the grass is lush and green, and Elias looks around. His dressing consultant is as happy as a little bird. She stands in the middle of that lush greenery and swings a beautiful swing.
The body stretches into the most beautiful arc, like a swan raising its neck as it skims across the water. Power rises from the toes, passes through the straightened calves, the rotating waist, the relaxed shoulders, and finally reaches the wrists.
She remained in the position of reeling in her rod, and subconsciously turned to look in Elias's direction, just as Elias turned his gaze away.
On the return trip, Elias and Wynne sat at opposite ends of the back seat of the Bentley. Wynne was still in a good mood, her face almost pressed against the car window as she looked out.
"Thank you for today, my boss."
"You're welcome, Wynne."
"Oh, right," she suddenly turned her head, "did you take the photos for me?"
"..."
Yuan Ning shifted her position and sat closer to him.
A fragrance wafted over, and Elias slowed his breathing, glancing sideways as she approached.
"I'm asking you a question," she tilted her head and looked at him cautiously.
On one hand, I was afraid of offending him, but on the other hand, I couldn't stand his silence.
"Did you take the picture or not? My boss, if you forgot to take the picture, I won't be angry with you."
This little girl is so arrogant. When did it become her place to be angry with him?
"Anyway, I've gained more today."
She spoke animatedly, then, realizing something, she turned back and asked, "By the way, did your business deal go through?"
Elias looked at her without saying a word.
"You're so capable, you must have succeeded in negotiating, so why do you look like that?"
She tilted her head to look at him, like a tourist looking at a monkey in a zoo.
“Wynne”.
"Hmm? You can finally talk now."
"Can we kiss?"
"ah?"
Wynne's little mind couldn't immediately switch from her huge career success to this, so it took her two seconds.
I want to kiss you.
She regained consciousness only after Elias asked again.
Her cheeks had the texture of fresh snow, with fine, soft downy hairs visible, giving them a childlike, fuzzy glow.
She pursed her lips slightly and slowly approached: "Of course, my boss."
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