Chapter Ninety: The Strange Banquet

The engagement banquet of the Hong family’s patriarch, Hong Mingda, was underway. As soon as Zhao Fan arrived, a crowd gathered around, their words laced with concern for his romantic situation.

He noticed that those most eager to inquire about his love life all hailed from minor families—people with some wits, hoping to seize this chance to pull their clans into higher circles. They had some family assets, but nothing substantial. In truth, these people were searching for a helping hand, someone who could elevate their families. For various reasons, their conversations invariably circled back to their own daughters.

Zhao Fan understood their calculations, though he couldn’t fathom their behavior. To put it plainly, he wasn’t at the level they hoped for—at least, not with his current standing. In business, only immediate gain mattered; future promises were worthless if they couldn’t be realized soon. Marriage was no exception.

“President Zhao, I heard your company’s got a new project going on—any chance you’re looking for partners?” someone asked.

“I’m sorry, but I’m not sure where you heard that,” Zhao Fan replied coolly, “Even as the company’s CEO, I haven’t heard of any new projects.”

“How could that be? Isn’t it—”

“Isn’t it what?”

Before the man could finish, another voice cut in, “Oh look, Hong Mingda is here!”

Zhao Fan glanced over and saw Hong Mingda approaching, arm in arm with a woman of about twenty. She wore a long white dress, but heavy makeup had stripped away any freshness the dress could have brought. Her eyes darted about restlessly, a smug expression plastered across her face—a clear display of petty pride.

Unattractive, Zhao Fan thought, the word flashing through his mind. He couldn’t help but recall Yang Yuqing. On the day he returned to school, Yang Yuqing had worn a white dress too, but that was true beauty—so dazzling it was impossible to look away.

But then again, anyone able to entangle herself with a man in his fifties and secure an engagement had to be calculating.

Hong Mingda, under everyone’s gaze, walked to the dais and laughed heartily, “Thank you all for attending my engagement banquet. I’m not much of a scholar, so I’ll keep it simple—now that you’re here, just enjoy yourselves. Eat, drink, and don’t worry about a thing.”

A round of applause rose from below.

Satisfied, Hong Mingda waited for the clapping to subside, then pulled the woman forward.

“Let’s not drag this out. Allow me to introduce my fiancée, Fang Yijia. She’s twenty-two, still at university, and will graduate next year.”

Another round of applause followed.

“A perfect match!” someone called.

“Yes, very well-suited,” chimed another.

As praise filled the air, Hong Mingda looked immensely pleased. He was a man of simple tastes—he loved nothing more than compliments.

Soon, Hong Mingda led his fiancée into the crowd, making introductions. Zhao Fan noticed that those who had just been beaming with joy while speaking to Hong Mingda now wore completely different expressions once he departed. If it had been just one or two, it would have gone unnoticed, but every single person who spoke to him did the same. Interesting.

“Sorry, President Hong, something came up at the office. Sorry for being late,” came a commotion at the entrance. Zhao Fan, wine glass in hand, slipped into a corner.

The newcomers were Bai Yongyuan and Yang Tiancheng—the heads of the Bai and Yang families. Zhao Fan shot them a glance, puzzled. Their status in Yangcheng was second to none; what brought them to Hong Mingda’s engagement?

Bai Yongyuan and Yang Tiancheng exchanged pleasantries with Hong Mingda and then mingled with the guests. As two of the city’s most prominent family heads, they were soon surrounded, greeting and being greeted in turn. Bai Yongyuan smiled, collecting a stack of business cards—whether any would prove useful was another matter.

Zhao Fan deliberately kept a low profile among the crowd, thinking he could avoid attention. But as he turned, Bai Yongyuan and Yang Tiancheng appeared before him.

“Well, if it isn’t President Zhao of Feiteng—barely in his twenties and already running supermarkets and online ventures. Impressive indeed,” Bai Yongyuan said, his words polite but his eyes icy, his hostility barely concealed.

Zhao Fan caught it immediately and answered, his own gaze frosty, “What can I say? The young are more restless, more willing to try things. When you’re willing to try, sometimes you get lucky.”

Bai Yongyuan’s smile was stiff, his words edged with sarcasm. “Luck is a skill itself, but I wonder how long that skill will last.”

“Longer than the Bai family, at least.”

A stir rippled through the crowd. Such boldness—the young man openly challenging the head of the Bai family, with no attempt to hide it.

“Young and fearless—remarkable,” someone couldn’t help but exclaim, causing Bai Yongyuan’s face to darken further.

Young and remarkable—thanks to Zhao Fan’s words, these two terms had become Bai Yongyuan’s sore spot, a direct hit to his pride.

Just as Bai Yongyuan looked ready to explode, Yang Tiancheng gently patted his shoulder. “Ah, what can you do? The young are quick-witted, it’s only natural. We’re from the older generation—we need to know our place.”

Bai Yongyuan’s face twisted slightly, and for a moment Zhao Fan thought he might lose control. But surprisingly, he held it in.

Who would have thought Yang Tiancheng’s words could restrain him?

Zhao Fan’s mind raced, and a faint, indifferent smile tugged at his lips. He deliberately said, “Exactly. The world belongs to the young now. The old ways really should make way, or else—”

A hand slapped Zhao Fan’s shoulder, cutting him off.

“Well now, that’s the spirit of youth—boldness is admirable, but it needs the right outlet,” Hong Mingda exclaimed, suddenly appearing behind Zhao Fan and enthusiastically inserting himself into the conversation, quickly diffusing the tension.

“You two as well—why argue with a young man? We’re all in our forties and fifties—let’s act our age, don’t you agree?”

Hong Mingda’s sudden intervention left no room for further escalation; whatever plans Zhao Fan had were now thwarted.

Bai Yongyuan and Yang Tiancheng exchanged glances and smiled.

Yang Tiancheng put on a show of sighing, “Indeed, time spares no one.”

With the disagreement quashed, Zhao Fan’s expression grew cold. Hong Mingda’s timing had been impeccable, nullifying his challenge. He glanced at Bai Yongyuan and Yang Tiancheng, his eyes hooded to hide the chill within; it was clear these two had come deliberately to provoke him.

With Hong Mingda present, Zhao Fan, Bai Yongyuan, and Yang Tiancheng had no choice but to maintain a facade of harmony until the banquet’s end.

“Shall we talk?”