The flight landed in Valeray City, and passengers disembarked in an orderly manner.
Serena Stanton collected her checked luggage and, following the crowd, had just stepped out of the arrivals gate when, in the next moment, the car sent to pick her up stopped precisely in front of her.
The driver got out, opening the rear door for her with respectful composure: "Miss Stanton."
Serena handed him her suitcase. As she bent to get in, a faint scent of men's cologne filled the air. She looked up, and sure enough, saw the man seated in the back.
"Jasper."
Jasper Grant wore a bespoke blue-gray suit, his long legs crossed, a sheaf of contract documents spread across his knee.
The gold-rimmed glasses resting on his straight nose lent his bearing an ever more refined elegance, while also masking the shadow of melancholy beneath.
Jasper Grant scrutinized her for three seconds. "You've lost weight," he said.
Serena instinctively touched her cheek. "Food in Portryn doesn't quite suit me."
As they left the airport, the silver Rolls-Royce glided smoothly onto the elevated expressway, the interior tranquil and silent.
Jasper Grant closed the folder, fingertips tapping lightly on the leather cover. "How did the negotiations go?"
"Quite smoothly." Serena lifted the corner of her lips, the clarity of her features softened and gentle. "The other company agreed to sign; the contract is ready—just waiting for the procedures now."
"I'll celebrate with you tonight."
"Alright." Serena replied.
Jasper Grant shifted his gaze from her eyes back to the papers on his knee.
He had only been found by the Grant Family at seventeen.
At that time, the one by his side was the fifteen-year-old Serena.
The two of them had endured four years of hardship together. When Jasper Grant returned to the Grant Family, he brought Serena with him, ensuring the Grants sponsored her education.
Four years, then ten; time slipped by. The girl who once starved to gaunt bones had, unwittingly, broken free from her cocoon to become a butterfly.
...
The abrupt ring of a mobile phone shattered the quiet in the car.
Jasper Grant slid to answer. Julian Yates's voice came through the receiver: "Just a gathering with a few friends. Aren't you picking up Serena? Perfect, bring her along for dinner."
Jasper Grant asked for the address, then turned to Serena.
"Julian's organized a get-together. Want to go?"
Serena knew Julian Yates; thinking it was just a meal, she nodded.
"I'm fine with anything."
The car finally stopped in front of a Michelin restaurant. Serena glanced out the window.
French arched doors, Baroque domed architecture, soaring stone columns supporting an elegant vintage façade, the gilded doors exuding understated luxury.
The private room was spacious, with crystal lights cascading gentle illumination. Outside the stained-glass windows, the dazzling neon of the Oriental Pearl Tower shimmered in the night.
Everyone present was a familiar face—men and women alike, all strikingly attractive and impeccably dressed, instantly recognizable as sons and daughters of elite families.
Serena, brought by Jasper Grant, took a seat beside him. Some who didn't recall her teased, "Second Master Grant, where'd you find such a beauty?"
"Look at you, as if you've never seen the world," Julian Yates laughed. "That's Serena Stanton—the one who's traveled the length and breadth with our Second Master Grant. You know her?"
Just mentioning Serena, no one knew who she was.
But as soon as 'traveled the length and breadth' came up, the realization dawned.
The Grant Family struggled so long to find their Second Master—and there was always a poor girl by his side.
Rumor had it she'd eaten her share of hardship alongside him; out of gratitude, the Grants sponsored her schooling.
"Of course, of course, Serena Stanton. She's changed so much, grown prettier every year." One of the young gentlemen smiled at Serena. "Honestly, too beautiful—I couldn't recognize her at first."
Serena's expression didn't alter; she offered a faint, restrained smile.
She had once been a perfect outsider, so ordinary she almost vanished into the dust. These people, born with silver spoons, carried innate arrogance and nobility; hardly any would even look at her straight on.
The crowd's attention soon shifted from her, their conversation turning to business trends, luxury spending, and tales from abroad.
They spoke of romance—and rivals.
The chef entered to serve dishes; the manager pulled a bottle of alcohol-free champagne from the ice bucket, wrapped it in a towel, then took crystal goblets from the rack. The sparkling liquid slid down the glass, bubbling, releasing an aroma of grapes.
Serena sipped the aperitif and glanced at the menu—oil-braised river shrimp, eight-treasure duck, shrimp with giant sea cucumbers, braised bream, and steamed seasonal vegetables, each dish exquisitely prepared.
Jasper Grant shot her a look. "Lost your appetite?"
"I'm alright," Serena said.
She was allergic to shrimp, so she simply avoided those dishes.
Jasper Grant watched her for a moment, then asked the chef to make her a bowl of braised pork noodle soup.
The stewed meat was tender, the thick broth rich and flavorful.
Serena was eating noodles at her usual measured pace, when she heard a certain name and paused.
"Jasper, friends in Switzerland say Adrian Shaw's returned to the country." Someone abruptly brought up a tidbit from their circles.
Jasper Grant's features remained refined and aloof, betraying no emotion. "Just heard."
"Is that true? The Shaw Crown Prince is back—does that mean our famous goddess Tiana Young will wrap up her overseas exhibitions and come home too?"
"Speaking of which, I still feel bad for Second Master. If it weren't for Adrian Shaw meddling, Second Master and Tiana would've been married ages ago!"
Jasper Grant placed a bowl of abalone soup in front of Serena, his manner flawlessly courteous, his tone flat and unreadable.
"My engagement with Tiana ended by mutual agreement—it has nothing to do with anyone else."
"How is it not related? If it weren't for Adrian Shaw's ruthless tactics, Tiana..." Suddenly catching Jasper Grant's chilly gaze, the speaker shut up instantly.
Like a goose choked by the neck, incapable of making a sound.
The Shaw Family wielded power without being ostentatious; the Grant Family held status without being showy.
Both clans were illustrious, appearing to coexist peacefully, but the roots of their feud stretched far back.
The only reason they dared discuss Adrian Shaw here was because Jasper Grant was present.
It was well known in their circle: Adrian Shaw and Jasper Grant were mortal rivals, locked in years of overt and covert competition—from finance and real estate bidding, down to marriage prospects and school tournaments.
The source of all enmity, aside from the discord of their elders, also stemmed from Tiana Young.
Serena lowered her gaze, holding a porcelain spoon, tasting a mouthful of steaming soup.
Whether the chef forgot the salt or not, her palate was left with nothing but bland bitterness.
The air in the private room suddenly coagulated, plunging into stifling silence.
The nerves of all present were like tight harp strings, taut and threatening to snap at the slightest provocation.
Jasper Grant crossed his legs, his voice polished: "Let these words die here. If talk leaks out and damages Tiana's reputation, nothing will save you."
Second Master Grant was not only upright but also hopelessly devoted...
The heirs and heiresses seated around the table were stunned into silence, exchanging glances for a few seconds. Yet, thinking it over, if the woman involved was Tiana Young, it wasn't surprising.
"Ding, ding—"
Julian Yates tapped twice on his wineglass with a spoon, the clear sound ringing out. "What's going on? We finally get together, and you all sit straight-faced as if acting out a silent drama?"