Chapter 30 Exclusive Release Chapter 30 Yuan Ning will absolutely not forgive...
The flames in the fireplace were burning low, flickering faintly between the carefully stacked cedar blocks, releasing their last bit of lukewarm heat and the scent of pine resin.
Only one reading lamp was lit in the study, casting a dim yet clear halo of light on the heavy oak desk.
Elias van der Berg was slumped in an armchair, dressed in comfortable loungewear with the neckline open, revealing a well-defined collarbone and chest muscles, and matching casual trousers.
His computer screen was lit up, and he was reading Wynne's email word by word.
Half an hour later, he closed his eyes and rubbed his temples.
After a moment's hesitation, he picked up his personal cell phone, which was on the corner of the table.
He should have called her directly and said, "Wynne, I advise you not to get involved in Casanova's project."
But instead of dialing, he typed on the keyboard and resent the email.
“I agree to go, madam.”
Yuan Ning informed Professor Miller about the progress of the project. Professor Miller agreed that she could carry it out on her own, gave her Casanova's contact information, and told her to be careful.
At 10 p.m. on Wednesday, Yuan Ning arrived at the private terminal of Tetepolo Airport with her small suitcase.
Here, there is none of the hustle and bustle and long queues of JFK Airport, only understated glass-walled buildings, dedicated security checkpoints, and a few sleek private jets silently lying dormant on the tarmac in the pitch-black night.
Yuan Ning's small suitcase is the recently popular Rimowa Classic Flight silver aluminum-magnesium alloy carry-on suitcase. She is wearing a MaxMara classic camel cashmere double-breasted coat, with an ivory white Jil Sander turtleneck cashmere sweater underneath, and a pair of Helmut Lang black slim-fit straight-leg jeans.
By the way, Helmut Lang is now the top choice for fashionable people in New York. Yuan Ning wrote an article specifically about the brand's jeans, saying that they are known for their excellent tailoring and slightly cool urban feel, which can perfectly outline the leg lines and are also sleek enough.
She wore a light grey cashmere scarf from Begg & Co., a classic Scottish brand, loosely tied around her neck; it was fluffy and soft.
She carried a Celine "Boogie" handbag from this year's Spring/Summer collection. The bag has a square and structured shape, smooth calfskin, and the brand's classic "carriage buckle" clasp. It is spacious and very professional, easily accommodating her Apple iBook laptop and thick documents.
Of these items, about five were advertisements commissioned by the brands she worked on.
She looked like a modern urban woman who had just stepped out of the Vogue editorial office, and she also completed the photoshoot required by the brand at the airport and posted it on her blog.
She arrived twenty minutes early. At the entrance to the empty and quiet VIP lounge, she met Richard, Elias van der Berg's chief assistant.
“Good evening, Miss Wynne,” Richard greeted her meticulously.
Good evening, Richard.
Behind him, about six or seven assistants in black suits followed Elias van der Berg and walked toward him.
The silver-gray Gulfstream G200 sat quietly on the tarmac, its gangway already lowered.
Richard gestured to his boss that they could board, and the group walked across a thickly carpeted jetty.
Elias was constantly communicating with his assistant about work the whole way. Yuan Ning greeted him, and after glancing at her, he simply nodded slightly before returning his gaze to the documents.
Yuan Ning took a deep breath and picked up her own suitcase. She was well aware that she had come here on someone else's behalf, so she just needed to behave herself.
Fortunately, the check-in service at Tetepolo Airport was excellent. Yuan Ning's suitcase was taken by the flight attendant, and she was led to her seat.
She sat diagonally behind Elias, who was wearing a well-pressed dark suit (the one she had personally chosen and ironed the day before), with a thick document spread out on his lap and a steaming cup of chamomile tea beside him.
He was surrounded by assistants, seemingly making final preparations for business negotiations after landing.
That seemed to be a secret, and Yuan Ning had not gleaned any information from their conversation.
The plane began to taxi, and everyone returned to their seats. Elias finally looked at her calmly.
Good evening, Wynne.
Good evening, boss.
Elias's voice was emotionless, but he explained things clearly: "The flight will take about eight hours. You can rest or take care of your work. Once you arrive in Milan, my car will take you to your pre-booked hotel. After that, you can arrange your own time."
"Understood. Thank you again for your assistance." Yuan Ning nodded, her demeanor equally impeccable.
As the push-back sensation of takeoff came through, Yuan Ning turned her head to look out the window.
The dazzling silhouette of New York City at night gradually shrank and disappeared into the distance.
It's as if those rumors and isolation have also remained on the ground.
The plane climbed, broke through the clouds, and entered the stable stratosphere.
The others resumed their work, and Yuan Ning didn't choose to rest either. She opened her notebook and Casanova's materials, focusing on her work. Two hours later, she fell into a deep sleep.
Until the sunlight streamed through the portholes and filled the cabin, making everything in sight bright.
Yuan Ning noticed that the people in front of her hadn't rested all night.
Elias and his team finalized the negotiation process, finally getting a moment of free time.
He glanced at Wynne out of the corner of his eye. Her dark hair was casually tucked behind her ears as she focused intently on the computer screen, occasionally tapping a few keys. Sunlight danced on her porcelain-white cheeks and thick eyelashes, making her appear serene yet powerful.
He looked away, his expression not good.
The plane flew smoothly at an altitude of 10,000 meters, heading towards the Apennine Peninsula. Inside the cabin, the less than two-meter distance between the two people felt as if separated by an invisible glass wall—quiet, clear, and distinctly defined.
At 4:00 AM, which is 10:00 AM local time, the plane landed, and the journey began.
Yuan Ning thoroughly implemented the principles she had written in the email. This trip was Elias's official business trip, and she needed to do her best not to cause him any trouble. The two of them went their separate ways.
As Elias had said, he arranged a car specifically for Yuan Ning.
He and his team seem to be heading in a different direction from her.
As soon as I got off the plane, the Southern European sun shone with its unique brightness and warmth, a stark contrast to the cold of New York.
The private terminal was efficient and quiet. Elias gave her one last deep look, as if he wanted to say something but ultimately said nothing, and left with his team.
Yuan Ning sighed. Elias, who was focused on his work, was very charming, but he looked too aloof.
A driver in uniform, who spoke fluent English, opened the door of a dark blue Alfa Romeo 156 sedan for Yuan Ning.
“Good morning, Ms. Meng. I am Luca Fabrice, and Mr. Van der Berg has hired me as your driver. I will be in charge of arranging your itinerary during your stay in Italy.”
Elias did not treat her harshly. As long as he agreed that she could come along, she would not have to worry about accommodation or transportation along the way.
"Good morning, Mr. Fabrice. Thank you for your help." Yuan Ning got into the car. An Alfa Romeo, a typical Italian choice.
She studied Italian in high school and can still have some simple conversations. In addition, she is also quite good at French.
Luca handed her a thin folder: "Inside is your hotel information and a list of local emergency contact numbers."
Yuan Ning took the folder, feeling amazed at the convenience she had experienced abroad for the first time.
Elias booked her a secluded farmhouse at 'o Santo Pietro'. Located in the Chianti mountains outside Siena, it was a quiet place, about a 40-minute drive from San Gimignano (where the Casanova workshop was located), and the hotel itself was a beautifully restored old manor.
o Santo Pietro! Even though Yuan Ning wasn't very familiar with the Italian hotel industry, she vaguely knew that this was one of the top luxury boutique hotels in Tuscany. This was definitely not a place she could afford or even dream of staying in.
As they were talking, the car did not head towards Milan city, but instead drove directly onto the A1 highway leading south.
The view outside the window gradually changed from the neat plains of Lombardy to the rolling hills that are typical of Tuscany.
In winter, only the sturdy branches of the grapevines remain, rows of cypress trees stand like dark green arrows on the hilltop, sunlight dances on the silvery-gray leaves of the olive grove, and in the distance, ancient stone farmhouses and castle ruins can be seen.
The scenery was picturesque, but Yuan Ning had no heart to appreciate it much.
After about an hour's drive, the car left the highway and turned onto a winding country road, eventually passing through an inconspicuous ancient stone archway and entering a quiet and vast manor.
Santo Pietro unfolds before your eyes like a paradise: meticulously maintained gardens that retain their charm even in winter, shimmering lakes, and a cluster of stone buildings scattered across the hillside. The main building is a solemn monastery converted into a magnificent structure, creating a tranquil and luxurious atmosphere where time seems to slow down.
Yuan Ning couldn't help but think how wonderful it would be if she had just come here for a vacation. This place was perfect for carefree relaxation, and it would be even better if a handsome man could kiss her.
Her "farmhouse" is actually a detached stone cottage with a private garden, a perfect blend of typical Tuscan style and modern comforts: exposed raw wooden beams, terracotta floorboards, a huge fireplace, but equipped with a marble bathroom, advanced lighting control system and an extremely large and comfortable bed.
On the table were welcome fruit, a bottle of local Brunello red wine, and a handwritten welcome card. Everything was impeccable.
During their journey together, Elias didn't say a word to her, but he provided her with far more favorable conditions through his actions.
He provided a calm yet powerful support, which ignited Yuan Ning's ambition and strengthened her resolve to do her best this time.
With such support, she must produce results worthy of this "investment".
She put down her luggage, and without even changing her clothes, immediately dialed the number that Professor Miller had given her for the Casanova workshop contact.
She had sent an email beforehand stating that she would visit today, and the other party replied agreeing to meet her at 4 p.m. today.
It's afternoon, and the sun is shining brightly.
Edward, the workshop owner's youngest son, asked her to meet him at the workshop. After hanging up the phone, Yuan Ning walked to the window and looked at the winding path among the hills in the distance.
At this moment, she sees herself as the guardian of traditional crafts and the savior of the workshop, filled with passion and a sense of mission.
At four o'clock in the afternoon, Luca drove her to the gate of the Casanova workshop, where Edward was waiting for her.
He was a slender man with a melancholy air, who looked to be about the same age as her.
Yuan Ning was somewhat disappointed; she had originally thought that the other party would send a more senior member to make contact.
This man... clearly doesn't seem like he can shoulder any responsibility.
Yuan Ning got off the bus and saw a stone emblem on the red wall of the workshop, almost unrecognizable due to the erosion of wind and rain. It was a greyhound circling an olive branch.
"Just call me Edward." He gently squeezed her hand, then quickly pulled away, appearing somewhat reserved, even evasive.
"Please come in. I'm sorry, my father is inside completing an important task, and he asked me to show you around first."
He pushed open the creaking, heavy wooden door, and a complex aura instantly enveloped Yuan Ning.
It wasn't as old and desolate as she had imagined; rather, it was more like a hybrid of a still-breathing, slightly cluttered old workshop and a museum where time seemed to have stood still.
It's clear that the workshop isn't doing very well these days.
“Ms. Wynne, feel free to ask me anything you want to know. Professor Miller has already spoken to us, and we are willing to cooperate with you to complete the project.”
Yuan Ning corrected, "It's not that you helped me complete the project, but that I helped you get back into the market."
Edward paused, then, seeing her serious expression, smiled wryly and said, "Maybe."
He continued forward, sunlight streaming in through the tall, narrow arched windows, the air filled with the deep, rich tanning aroma of aged leather, and the warm fragrance of beeswax and rare oils.
"This way, please."
In the work area, two or three elderly craftsmen with gray hair were working at their desks, wearing reading glasses and holding specially made fine needles and wax-soaked linen thread, doing delicate sewing that was almost invisible to the naked eye.
On the shelves against the wall, rolls of leather of varying colors, textures, and thicknesses are neatly arranged like books, ranging from common box calf to extremely rare saltwater crocodile belly skin, ostrich foot skin, and even the skin of some deep-sea fish that Yuan Ning cannot name. In another area, glass cases display some highly finished semi-finished or restored antique bags, each a work of art.
Yuan Ning couldn't help but exclaim in amazement: "My goodness, Edward, your workshop is absolutely like a museum. It should be seen by the whole world."
“As you wish, Miss Wynne,” Edward said with a shrug.
Edward's explanation was very stilted, almost like reciting entries. He pointed to the tools and said, "This is an edge beveler," and pointed to the leather and said, "This is Tuscan vegetable-tanned cowhide," as if he were completing a task.
“I noticed that the angle of your stitches is very special, almost invisible. Is this a unique stitching technique passed down in Casanova? Does it have a name?” She leaned down to examine a corner of a bag being sewn.
Edward was taken aback, clearly not expecting her question to delve so deeply into the details of the process.
He hesitated, glancing at an old craftsman. Only after receiving a nod did he turn to Yuan Ning, his tone slightly arrogant: "This is, of course, unique to our Casanova. It requires weeks of extremely gentle tapping and stretching with special tools to loosen the fibers without damaging the epidermis. Then… we use our own blend of oils for penetrating conditioning…"
Yuan Ning browsed through the exhibits with awe.
"This is absolutely wonderful; it's a true luxury."
Having deeply appreciated the details of the craftsmanship, she was even more eager to learn about something else.
Edward led her away from the workshop and into the open-air garden inside the workshop, where they found a stone table next to the grape trellis and sat down.
Yuan Ning turned on the computer, opened the documents, and asked:
"Edward, I'd like to know exactly how much the workshop's order volume has declined? How long can our cash flow sustain us?"
This relates to how she will develop a marketing strategy for Casanova.
Edward hesitated for a moment, but then, thinking that the data would soon be irrelevant and that it wouldn't matter even if the other party included it in their paper, he told them everything.
"Where are the disagreements within the workshop? Is it about sticking to pure handcraftsmanship and extremely small production volumes, or about introducing some machinery to improve efficiency? Is it about completely rejecting external capital, or about accepting it conditionally?"
Edward sighed: "These options are no longer our choice, Miss Wynne. Capital is everything, and technology is the master of modern society."
Yuan Ning was taken aback, realizing Edward's extremely pessimistic attitude.
"Edward, I will help you, please believe me."
Edward reassured her, "Miss Wynne, since I've already promised to help you complete your project, I'll help you to the end. Where else would you like to visit? I'll take you there."
Yuan Ning frowned deeply. The other party's attitude was too pessimistic, and they didn't take her seriously at all.
Professor Miller said a few days ago that Casanova considered asking him for help as her last chance. If that's the case, then why did Casanova give up on this opportunity so quickly and lose all hope in her?
For the rest of the time, Edward arranged for Yuan Ning to browse through some historical archives and past customer records in the workshop's small showroom.
These yellowed parchment orders and handwritten letters of praise record the splendor of half a century ago—custom requests from European royalty, Hollywood legends, and industrial tycoons, with production periods measured in years and price columns left blank, implying that costs were not a concern.
In the evening, Luca arrived to pick her up on time.
“The visit to the workshop is enough for now,” Yuan Ning said, closing her laptop and looking directly at Edward. “Could you take me to see your store in Milan tomorrow?”
Edward readily agreed: "Of course, then let's meet at nine o'clock tomorrow morning, okay?"
"good."
On the way back, the Tuscan sunset was breathtaking, but Yuan Ning had no heart to appreciate it. She kept thinking about Edward's attitude and the phrase "capital is everything."
She took out her phone and hovered her fingertip over Elias's name for a long time.
Finally, she sent him a short message:
[Arrived safely and completed an initial visit to the Casanova workshop. The craftsmanship is breathtaking, but the situation seems more complex than anticipated. I hope your negotiations go smoothly as well. —Wynne]
The message was sent, but it went unanswered. Even after she returned to her farmhouse in Santo Pietro and finished a simple dinner by the fireplace, she received no reply. This silence, in this time and place, seemed particularly meaningful.
The next day, Milan.
Luca drove Yuan Ning to the meeting place with Edward, a relatively quiet street near Via Montenapoleone. This is Milan's prime Quadrilateral, home to top brands and where every inch of land is incredibly valuable.
Edward was already waiting there, his face appearing even paler under Milan's grey sky. He pointed to the ground floor of an old building deep in the street: "That's it."
Compared to the surrounding stores, bustling with customers, flashing neon lights, and windows crammed with every new seasonal item, Casanova's store was eerily quiet. No sales assistants greeted customers at the door; through the glass, one could only see an elderly clerk in a well-tailored suit, sitting quietly behind the counter reading a book. For a full ten minutes, not a single customer pushed open the heavy wooden door.
“It’s still open,” Edward’s voice rang in her ears, tinged with mixed emotions, “but like you said, business… is a drop in the ocean. The rent here is one of the workshop’s biggest expenses, and its biggest burden. Every month, it’s sucking the workshop’s already meager lifeblood dry.”
Edward took out his key, but instead of opening the shop door, he gestured for Yuan Ning to follow him and went around to an inconspicuous employee entrance at the back of the shop. "Going in through the main door will disturb Mr. Alberto, that old employee. Let's go directly to the small meeting room at the back."
They walked through a narrow corridor piled with stocked leather and came to a small, softly lit room.
“Please have a seat, Miss Wynne.” Edward pulled out a chair for her. “This is where we truly receive our guests… who understand our value. The front of the store is more like a showcase, or rather, a facade that must be maintained.”
Yuan Ning didn't sit down immediately. Her gaze was drawn to a photograph on the wall. It was from decades ago, showing a shop assistant wearing white gloves demonstrating a handbag to an elegant lady. The background was now the shop window of this store, but back then, the pedestrians on the street were dressed smartly, and there seemed to be people pausing to admire the items in front of the window.
“It’s very different, isn’t it?” Edward noticed her gaze. “Back then, people were willing to wait two years for something. Now…” He shook his head, not finishing his sentence, but the meaning was clear.
He opened a sample booklet, which contained various leather samples and customizable design sketches, with extremely detailed annotations on the craftsmanship.
"This is the catalog of customization services we can currently offer. But last year, only three new customization orders were placed through this store."
Yuan Ning deeply understood Casanova's core value, and she had a rough outline of a marketing plan in mind. She was confident that she could save them!
"Edward, listen to me, I have a plan."
Before Yuan Ning could speak, Edward stood up and looked towards the door.
Footsteps sounded at the door, and then Edward's father, Marco, the current workshop owner of Casanova, walked in.
Edward respectfully called out, "Father."
Yuan Ning saw Elias, the person who followed Marco in.
He was wearing the midnight blue worsted wool suit she had chosen for him, and his blond hair remained impeccably styled even in the soft indoor light.
His face wore his usual polite yet aloof expression, his icy blue eyes calmly sweeping across the room before finally settling on Yuan Ning.
He was calm.
Yuan Ning's heart sank suddenly, then she was swept away by a cold, sharp wave.
"Elijas?"
From the moment he walked in, Marco's expression was grim: "Mr. Van der Berg, as you can see, bring out whatever other tricks you have to lower the price!"
Edward realized that Wynne and Mr. van der Berg knew each other, and an incredulous look appeared on his face.
“Ms. Wynne, you actually tried to extract information from me in this way, you, you really…”
Edward looked deeply hurt. He took two steps back, and the incredulous look in his eyes made Yuan Ning very uncomfortable.
“Edward, please listen to my explanation. I am not that despicable.”
When Yuan Ning uttered the word "despicable," she almost gritted her teeth as she turned her gaze back to Elias.
He knew from the beginning why she had come; she had written it clearly in her emails.
But Edward's expression really hurt Yuan Ning.
“Enough.” Marco’s deep voice carried an undeniable authority. “Mr. Van der Berg, we’re already at our wits’ end, you don’t need to resort to any more of your…” Marco’s gaze swept over Yuan Ning. “Business tactics, how about we stick to the price we agreed on yesterday?”
*
Yuan Ning will never forgive Elias, absolutely!
He looked down at her from the very beginning, running around and pleading for a project that was impossible to complete, with his arrogant eyes.
The damp, chilly afternoon air in Milan felt like a slap across her face.
She walked briskly along the back alley, which had a distinctly Southern European feel, as if she wanted to crush the surging anger in her chest.
Behind me, there was an extremely deep engine sound, steady, restrained, and ever-present.
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Author's Note: There will be 15 random red envelopes in this chapter!
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