Chapter Twelve: Heroes Compete for Beauty

The banquet hall of Zhu Wolong’s mansion, styled in European grandeur, glittered with gold and brilliance, radiating opulence in every corner. Well-dressed luminaries, wealthy businessmen, and socialites gathered in droves, painting a scene of lavish excess.

Bao Kang glanced at his police uniform, then at Bao Rong, who wore a white shirt and riding pants, scratching his head in frustration.

“It’s my first time at a banquet, I forgot I needed to change into formal wear.”

“Brother, this place isn’t right for me. Let’s just go home,” Bao Rong was ready to retreat.

“How can we leave after finally making it here?” Bao Kang was determined, studying Bao Rong with a nod. “This is good too—fresh and unpretentious. You’ll surely catch the eye of some wealthy young gentlemen!”

Bao Kang spotted a well-dressed young man in a sharp suit—tall, handsome.

“Rong, that one looks promising. Come on.”

“Brother…”

Ignoring Bao Rong’s protests, Bao Kang dragged her over. He smiled politely at the young man and began his introduction.

“Young sir, it’s a pleasure to meet you. This is my sister—she’s at the age to marry, and as her brother, I’m eager to find her a good family. Just look at how lovely she is—so beautiful that even the moon hides its face in shame, and wild geese flee at the sight. It’s… it’s…”

“Beauty unrivaled, flowers pale, fish sink, and birds fall,” the young man supplied.

“Yes, yes!” Bao Kang quickly echoed.

Bao Rong endured in silence, her hands clutching her purse tightly, feeling as though her brother was selling her off.

As Bao Kang touted Bao Rong around the hall, the socialite Li Yingying spotted him and sauntered over with a smile. Li Yingying’s figure was graceful, her beauty accentuated by a fitted cheongsam, revealing fair arms and long legs.

“Well, if it isn’t Director Bao! They say you’re the reincarnation of Justice Bao, but your face isn’t black at all…” she teased, but before she could finish, Bao Kang’s face flushed red, prompting a giggle. “Looks like Director Bao is a red-faced Bao Gong.”

Bao Kang’s gynophobia kicked in, and he stammered nervously, “I-I-I-I, y-y-y-you…”

Li Yingying’s smile faded as she watched Bao Kang tremble and flush, puzzled. “Director Bao, what’s wrong?”

Just then, Zhu Wolong, noticing the commotion, approached. Zhu Wolong was one of Old Zha’s foremost tycoons: tall, imposing, exuding an air of dominance, his sharp eyes betraying a shrewd businessman’s cunning. He recognized the embarrassed Bao Kang as Old Zha Police Bureau's director, knowing he'd inevitably have dealings with the police, and stepped forward to ease the situation.

“Isn’t this Director Bao of Old Zha Police Bureau! Your esteemed presence honors me greatly.”

Li Yingying, seeing the host conversing with Bao Kang, sensibly excused herself. “Mr. Zhu, Director Bao, I’ll leave you to chat—I’m off to see President Guo.”

Zhu Wolong nodded, and Li Yingying sashayed away. Bao Kang looked gratefully at Zhu Wolong.

“Director Bao seems a little… allergic to women?” Zhu Wolong had noted Bao Kang's odd behavior.

Bao Kang managed an awkward laugh. “Yes.”

“I’ll invite Director Bao to the 'Flower Pavilion' someday to cure that allergy,” Zhu Wolong laughed heartily.

Hearing Zhu Wolong suggest taking Bao Kang to such a place, Bao Rong stiffened and stepped closer, her face stern. “Brother, birds of a feather flock together. I don’t belong here. I’m leaving. Are you coming or not?”

Zhu Wolong finally noticed Bao Rong beside Bao Kang. Her simple attire distinguished her from the other women present. He couldn’t help but ask, “Who is this?”

“This is my little sister, Bao Rong. Rong, this is Mr. Zhu—come, greet him,” Bao Kang prompted.

“Mr. Zhu,” Bao Rong said, unwillingly.

Zhu Wolong looked her over again, eyes wide, “Miss, you’re so beautiful that even the moon hides its face and wild geese flee at the sight. It’s… it’s…”

“Beauty unrivaled… birds fall… fish sink, flowers pale…” Bao Kang supplied.

“Yes, yes, Director Bao, you’re so learned.”

“Not at all, Mr. Zhu, you’re the true gentleman.”

Bao Rong frowned at their mutual flattery.

“Miss Bao, do you believe in love at first sight?” Zhu Wolong continued to make advances.

“I suspect that what people fall for at first sight isn’t love, but a face,” Bao Rong retorted sharply.

“Then what do you think of my face?” Zhu Wolong pressed.

“Hard to say,” Bao Rong had yet to look at him directly.

Zhu Wolong grinned, confident in his looks. “Perhaps you don’t know me well yet. I’m known as Old Zha’s First Young Master. My literary friends even composed a poem for me: ‘Height one-eight-eight, wealth enough for ten thousand homes, knowledge as deep as the sea, marry me and riches never cease.’ What do you think?”

Bao Rong smiled, “If you ask me: height is ordinary, reeks of money, domineering and narcissistic, empty-headed—meeting you is bad luck.”

Zhu Wolong was momentarily embarrassed, fiddling with the jade ring on his finger.

Bao Kang hurried to smooth things over, “Let’s talk about something else.”

“Very well,” Zhu Wolong raised his glass, “A toast to Miss Bao.”

Bao Rong was displeased, but Bao Kang signaled her with his eyes, prompting her to accept the glass reluctantly. Zhu Wolong took advantage, brushing Bao Rong’s hand.

“Please mind your manners, Mr. Zhu,” Bao Rong glared.

Zhu Wolong laughed—he, who was accustomed to casual affairs, found a steadfast woman refreshing. “Miss Bao, you’re the most unique lady I’ve ever met, and I quite like your character. Perhaps we can be friends.”

“Sorry, I don’t make friends lightly. I have things to attend to—excuse me.”

Bao Rong set down her glass and hurried away.

“Hey, Miss Bao!” Zhu Wolong called after her, still clueless about what had offended her.

“Mr. Zhu, please don’t take offense. My sister is spoiled by me,” Bao Kang apologized.

Bao Kang finished his apology and rushed after Bao Rong. He caught up with her in the courtyard, panting and trying to suppress his anger. “Rong, leaving midway like that is really embarrassing for me.”

“I don’t want to talk to people like Zhu Wolong.”

“What kind of people? He’s rich!” Bao Kang was blinded by his love for money.

Bao Rong sneered, “Bamboo shoots from the mountains—sharp-tongued, thick-skinned, hollow inside. He makes me want to vomit more than the first time I dissected a corpse. Don’t force me.”

“Mr. Zhu is a fine gentleman, and you say he’s more disgusting than a corpse? My own sister—do you even have any taste?” Bao Kang pleaded.

“Handsome, but talentless.”

“No wealth?” Bao Kang misunderstood, “He’s Old Zha’s top tycoon