Ten Years of Fleeting Light
He and Liu arrived at the agreed-upon secluded meeting place twenty minutes early. When they entered the meeting room, several other entrepreneurs were already seated inside, also waiting.
In just one glance, half of the subtle, tech-man-like confidence that Su Hang had gained from Da Liu's words crumbled instantly—the male entrepreneurs present were all handsome and dashing, each with their own distinct temperament, some exuding the air of refined and wise tech elites, others with the most fashionable young faces, and one even carrying an artistic aura… In comparison, his hastily pulled-out suit and deliberately styled hair appeared so deliberate and mediocre.
He suddenly realized that Liu's statement that "selling oneself is extremely difficult" was not an exaggeration—this Miss Shen's "interest" clearly had a high threshold.
At exactly 9:30, Shen Zhiwei appeared on time. She wore a light gray Chanel tweed suit with no extra accessories, only a string of lustrous pearls around her neck. Her makeup was light, yet she possessed an aura that made people afraid to look directly at her. She took her seat in the main seat, nodded slightly to everyone, and said in a gentle but distant tone: "Let's begin, just in order."
Throughout the presentation, she mostly listened quietly, occasionally tapping her tablet to take notes, but rarely asking questions. Her calmness wasn't due to a lack of interest, but rather a knowing understanding born from complete insight, causing everyone present who had tried to exaggerate to subconsciously tone down their words.
Su Hang was the third to take the stage. He took a deep breath, clearing his mind of all distractions, and began to introduce his "remote classroom" project. He talked about the technical architecture, the market pain points, and when he got to the ultimate vision, with the stubbornness and a touch of idealism typical of technologists, he said, "Our ultimate hope is that children in the mountainous areas of western China can also enjoy the best educational resources in first-tier cities, even if it's just opening another window to the world..."
Shen Zhiwei, who had been listening quietly, suddenly raised her eyes and glanced at him. Her gaze remained calm, yet seemed to hold something else within it. She didn't interrupt him, but after he finished speaking, she sighed almost inaudibly and said, "Education is a good thing, but also a difficult thing."
There was a hint of wistfulness in his tone, as if it had stirred up some distant memory.
After the roadshow ended, Su Hang and Da Liu waited anxiously for a few days, almost giving up hope, when they unexpectedly received a call from the investment manager of Longjing Capital—Ms. Shen had privately invested a sum of money, not a huge amount, but enough to support them until the next milestone.
After hanging up the phone, Su Hang and Da Liu looked at each other, overjoyed yet also feeling a strong sense of unreality. Their meticulously prepared technical parameters and market data seemed to pale in comparison to his final, bookish ideal, which had inadvertently touched a hidden chord in Miss Shen's heart.
It turns out that the key to unlocking that door is sometimes not a meticulously crafted, perfect solution, but perhaps just an unpolished, clumsy expression of truth. And Miss Shen's thoughts, like herself, were seemingly calm and collected, yet unfathomably profound.
Ten Years of Fleeting Light
Time flows silently like water. In the blink of an eye, five years, then ten years have passed.
Shen Zhiwei's name has become a legend in Beijing's social circles. She is no longer just "former Mrs. Li," nor merely a behind-the-scenes figure at Longjing Capital; she is Shen Zhiwei herself—a woman who has become the center of her own universe.
Over the years, she has lived an increasingly carefree life. She has long since passed the stage of needing to prove anything about her career. "Wei Nian" has a professional team managing it; she only personally draws one or two design drafts when the mood strikes, creating rare and highly sought-after "collectibles" within the brand. Her main focus is on her "interests."
Investing is one of her greatest interests. She never looks at thick business plans, nor does she bother analyzing dry market data. She never interferes with Longjing Capital's formal investment process; she relies solely on her own fleeting "gut feeling."
Sometimes, at an art exhibition, she would hear a young curator talk about his passion for popularizing art, and she would casually contribute a penny to help him establish an online art museum; other times, at a dinner party, she would hear a shy engineer stammering about how to use technology to help people with disabilities, and she would find his stuttering somewhat endearing, so she would ask her assistant to follow up.
Her investments, large or small, depend entirely on her mood, yet her success rate is strangely high, as if she truly possesses the magic to turn lead into gold. Others cannot understand her logic, nor does she need them to.
As for the people around her, they changed like a revolving door. Some were long-term relationships, like with archaeologist Han Yu, with whom she had an on-and-off relationship for several years. She admired the unwavering light in his eyes when he talked about murals, and enjoyed the tranquil atmosphere he brought, so different from the hustle and bustle of the city. Others were short-term relationships, perhaps with a young figure skater she caught a glimpse of at a party. His agile figure on the ice and pure smile captivated her, and he became her companion for a brief snow season.
Among these people are young talents who have become tech elites thanks to her investment, artists and scholars who have made a name for themselves in their respective fields, and "good-for-nothings" who are empty-headed except for their good looks and outstanding figures. She can clearly distinguish who are "private guests" she can talk to and who are just "domestic partners" who need to sign strict health agreements and confidentiality clauses.
She approached relationships with an almost ruthless clarity. Once she sensed the passion had faded, she would decisively end things. When breaking up, she never spoke ill of her; instead, she was exceptionally generous. She was never stingy with any help she could offer—introducing connections, providing additional investment, giving lavish gifts… Therefore, even after separation, very few people spoke ill of her; instead, most remembered her kindness. Those men who had been in her life, regardless of the length of time, all seemed to have left a unique, rose-scented mark on their lives.
Over time, rumors inevitably began to circulate. At a charity gala, an elderly woman, who considered herself senior, made a veiled remark about her: "Zhiwei is always surrounded by such lively people. The young people are changing the pages of the newspaper more often than we old ladies are reading them."
The table fell silent instantly, all eyes focused on Zhiwei.
She showed no annoyance whatsoever. She picked up her wine glass, a dazzling smile curving her lips. Her eyes were clear, and her voice, though not loud, was loud enough for everyone around to hear: "Oh? I thought that when my nude photos were leaked twenty years ago, I, Shen Zhiwei, had automatically been removed from the list of candidates for the chastity arch. What, so I'm still here after all?"
Her tone was relaxed, even slightly mocking, as if she were recounting an amusing anecdote unrelated to herself. The old lady was immediately speechless, her face alternating between pale and flushed. No one at the table dared to respond.
Yes, she had already torn off the traditional labels society imposed on women. She played her part in the world according to her own rules, neither harming others nor compromising herself. So what if she was promiscuous? So what if she was unrestrained? Why should Shen Zhiwei explain her life to anyone, and why did she ever care about those so-called moral standards? She only wanted to live a fulfilling, open, and free life.
In these fleeting ten years, she truly lived as the queen of her own life, embracing everything and everyone she found interesting in her own domain, remaining untouched by worldly entanglements, yet passing through a sea of flowers, leaving behind countless intriguing legends.
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