Qiao Yuan's Maybach glided smoothly through the night, the headlights cutting through the shadows as the city lights faded behind them. He sat rigid in the backseat, his suit immaculate, his expression composed on the surface—but his heart thudded like a war drum.
When the car slowed before the estate gates, two uniformed security guards stepped forward. Their professional composure cracked the moment they caught sight of him.
"Director Qiao?!" one of them blurted, straightening immediately. Even here, at one of the most heavily guarded estates in City F, Qiao Yuan was a figure of weight.
He nodded slightly, his voice even. "I'm here to see Miss Su Ning."
The guards exchanged quick, startled glances before bowing with utmost respect. "Please, Director, this way! Miss Su resides in Street One… Villa One."
For a split second, Qiao Yuan thought he had misheard. His breath hitched, his eyes darting toward the guard.
Villa One?
The legendary residence of the estate. Everyone in the upper echelons knew of it. It wasn't just real estate—it was a symbol. Only a figure above power, wealth, and untouchable status could live there. Even City F's so-called giants would bow before the owner of Villa One.
And now, this Miss Su Ning…
Behind the tinted glass, Qiao Yuan's composure cracked. His palms grew damp.
' Just who have I been speaking to? '
The car rolled to a halt before Villa One's towering gates. The sleek black iron shimmered under the light, a silent testament to dominance. A soft click followed as the gate opened smoothly by remote control.
The driver cast a furtive glance at his master. Qiao Yuan's throat bobbed.
'She's watching me already.'
The Maybach pulled into the courtyard. Qiao Yuan stepped out, adjusting his suit with trembling fingers. He had faced tycoons, politicians, and heads of state—yet never had he felt such pressure before even laying eyes on someone.
The villa door opened.
Su Ning emerged.
She wore a tailored pair of ivory pants and a deep navy blouse, simple yet effortlessly elegant. A thin silver necklace rested against her collarbone, catching the light with understated brilliance. Her posture was straight, her gaze calm—but in her stillness lay an authority that made Qiao Yuan instinctively lower his eyes.
He bowed, voice respectful. "Miss Su."
She inclined her head slightly, neither humble nor arrogant. "Director Qiao. Please, come in."
Her tone was light, but to Qiao Yuan, it carried the weight of command. He followed her carefully inside, his steps silent as though afraid to disturb the air.
The living room was tastefully grand, each detail deliberate—marble floors, velvet curtains, art pieces that whispered wealth without shouting.
Su Ning gestured gracefully. "Sit."
He obeyed at once.
She moved to the side table, unhurried, pulling out a small porcelain tin. The faint fragrance of tea leaves filled the room even before the kettle boiled.
This was one skill her parents had taught her since she was little, she was so efficient in it, her father often praised her brewing skills. She smiled as she thought of them.
Qiao Yuan's heart skipped. This scent… is this…
Her movements were steady, precise, graceful. She poured the golden liquid into two delicate cups, then placed one before him.
"Please."
He accepted it with both hands, almost bowing.
The first sip made his eyes widen. The flavor burst across his tongue, rich, ancient, layered. His throat went dry as he lowered the cup carefully.
'This… the quality of this tea is high grade. And her brewing… it's flawless. Only comparable to those masters.'
His spine straightened, but sweat already beaded at his brow.
He cleared his throat softly, then reached into his suit pocket with careful hands.
"Miss Su, here are the cards you requested. Each is under your name, fully secured and linked with private services only available to our topmost patrons."
He presented the envelope with both hands, bowing slightly as he offered it.
Su Ning took it silently. She unfolded the envelope with elegance, studying each card one by one. The silence grew heavy.
Every second stretched. Qiao Yuan's heart pounded against his ribs. He could feel her aura pressing against him, subtle yet suffocating, like standing before a storm he could not withstand.
Beads of sweat rolled down his temple.
'If she is displeased… what kind of fate would I have? Even those who control provinces don't emit such power…'
Then—she nodded. A small, barely perceptible motion.
But to Qiao Yuan, it was as though he had been granted life itself.
He inhaled sharply, bowing deeper. "Then… I shall not disturb your evening further, Miss Su. I'll take my leave now."
He rose with utmost care and bowed, retreating from the villa as though leaving a sacred hall.
Only when he slipped back into the Maybach did he let out a shuddering breath. He wiped the sweat from his brow with a trembling hand, his chest rising and falling heavily.
"Drive," he croaked.
The driver nodded silently, pressing the accelerator.
As the villa gates closed behind them, Qiao Yuan stared out the window, his hands still trembling.
Villa One. Black Premium Card. And that aura… who in this world… is Su Ning?