With just that one sentence, the slight unease in Chu Yanze's heart immediately settled.
He wasn't particularly close to Liang Zhiwei. Though as a teammate, he had considered teaching her as much as he could, this wasn’t something that could be mastered in just a day or two. He didn’t demand much from his teammates, but he worried about failing to lighten Gu Zhaoping’s burden.
Liang Zhiwei was also afraid of holding the team back, but at this moment—
In the midst of spring, they suddenly realized the biggest difference between Gu Zhaoping and everyone else.
Previously, the neighboring team had blamed Ruan Nian’s fans for disrupting order, and later, they even blamed Gu Zhaoye for showing up and affecting their business. They kept pointing fingers, always finding someone else to blame for their setbacks.
But Gu Zhaoping never feared such things.
She never lectured them about following rules or pushing themselves to meet certain standards.
All she said was that she would cover for them.
If there were problems, she’d handle the costs. If issues arose, she’d solve them.
She seemed so strong, so unshakable, that she had no fear of anyone dragging her down.
Chu Yanze recalled her earlier introductions—whether it was jiu-jitsu or anything else—they were all real. So, it stood to reason that her willingness to bet against Li Xunwen in a game of chess meant she had some hidden ability.
She would cover for them.
For some reason, Chu Yanze was utterly certain of this. After a brief silence, he sent a surprisingly out-of-character, obedient nod from his limited collection of emojis.
[Sister Zhaoping, we’ll do our best too!]
…
This summit had gathered a massive number of industry leaders from around the world. Anyone passing by could be a pivotal figure from some major corporation, and a single random snapshot could make headlines.
Shen Yifeng was here representing the Shen family.
His mood hadn’t been great lately, though it hadn’t affected his work or daily life—just that he spent more time working out and exercising alone, seeing fewer of the people he usually socialized with.
This was something only those close to him had noticed. Just a couple of days ago, while at an equestrian club, a friend had asked, "Are you dealing with something lately? Work-related?"
Shen Yifeng paused. Did he really seem that agitated? Had it become that obvious?
His expression darkened slightly as he replied flatly, "No."
The friend just shrugged. "Really? You’ve been keeping to yourself more. Even at social events, you hardly smile. That’s not like you."
Shen Yifeng frowned but didn’t respond, refusing to indulge the topic further. Yet the other man remained oblivious and continued,
"Still, at least you’re holding it together. No matter what’s going on, you don’t let it interfere with work. But you know your brother-in-law, Gu Zhaoye? He’s been in such a bad mood lately that he’s turned down everything—shut himself away completely. No one can reach him, and a lot of important matters have been left hanging. I tried contacting him too, but no luck. A potential deal just fell through."
"Then again, what does it matter? He’s the eldest son of the Gu family—it’s not like he’s short on business. Even if he disappears for a while, people will still flock to him the moment he reappears."
The words carried a mix of mockery and amusement, though without much malice—after all, he knew the Shen and Gu families were connected by marriage. It was just an offhand remark.
But Shen Yifeng stopped in his tracks and turned to ask, "What happened to Zhaoye?"
"Wow, you actually care about Gu Zhaoye?" His friend was genuinely surprised. Shen Yifeng had never shown much interest in the Gu family’s affairs. If something came up, he’d handle it, but actively inquiring? That was practically unheard of. And asking about Gu Zhaoye’s situation? A first.
Shen Yifeng’s expression didn’t shift. "Is that so?"
"I heard it’s something to do with Yuanqi Tech—some problem that’s been driving him up the wall…"
Shen Yifeng already knew the full story. He’d heard about it during his last visit to the Gu family, and it happened to involve matters he’d rather not dwell on. He fell silent, turning away to continue walking.
He hadn’t expected Gu Zhaoye to let the aftermath drag on this long. His emotions really did affect him too much—unlike his sister.
At that thought, Shen Yifeng hesitated.
Gu Zhaoping, on the other hand, had shown no reaction at all to those events.
He hadn’t heard any updates about her lately either—she was probably filming that show. As someone who was about to call off their engagement, he shouldn’t be paying so much attention. He’d told himself not to overthink it. Yet, here he was, unable to stop himself from wondering.
But what he didn’t expect was for his friend to continue, "Oh, right—have you seen the trending topics? The media’s going wild over Gu Zhaoye getting beaten up by Gu Zhaoping on the show!"
"It’s blowing up everywhere. People are shocked that a high-profile CEO like him could be so thoroughly dominated by his own sister. It’s downright jaw-dropping…"
Shen Yifeng froze, momentarily stunned.
His friend shook his head, clicking his tongue in amusement as he rode ahead, while Shen Yifeng’s horse unconsciously slowed to a stop.
By the time the friend circled back, he pulled up in surprise. "Huh? Where’d Shen Yifeng go? Did he really just ride two laps and call it quits?"
Shen Yifeng had already changed out of his riding gear. He didn’t feel like continuing. As he walked out, he pulled out his phone and skimmed through the news.
The reports were spreading like wildfire, practically deafening in their intensity. Everywhere he looked, people were talking about Gu Zhaoping.
The way she was being described now was nothing like the image he’d known—no, it was completely different.
The Gu Zhaoping being discussed wasn’t the one whose reckless antics left people baffled. Instead, she was being praised for how cool, how effortlessly impressive she was in the leaked footage.
It was as though certain details had been deliberately kept from him until now, when everything about her came flooding into his awareness like a dam breaking.
Not long ago, when he’d heard Gu Zhaoping was hiring a jiu-jitsu instructor, he’d seriously wondered if it was just for attention.
At the time, Shen Yifeng hadn’t seen anything wrong with that assumption—the Gu Zhaoping he remembered had always been like that. It was hard to shake that ingrained perception.
But now, as he numbly scrolled through the endless stream of articles about her, he realized that even strangers online seemed to know her better than he did.
They were buzzing with excitement, eagerly discussing everything she’d done. Her exceptional jiu-jitsu skills, how effortlessly she’d dismantled a coach who’d challenged her, how she’d quietly bought out the entire dojo for someone.
She’d resolved the issue so casually, without any fanfare.
Seeing her stop Gu Zhaoye from grabbing another woman’s hand during the show recording and say, “She’s with me.”
Without hesitation, she slapped Gu Zhaoye, who couldn’t even break free from her grip and had no choice but to swallow his pride, apologizing to her.
...
It took many reminders before Shen Yifeng could fully grasp the significance and impact of what he had heard back then.
Gu Zhaoye had mentioned to him that Gu Zhaoping had hit him. At the time, he found it absurd and didn’t dwell on it.
But the more he reflected on it, the more stunned he became—the more he witnessed, the more bewildered he felt.
Watching Gu Zhaoping, fresh from a grappling session with her coach, crouch on the ground and calmly ask him if it was enough—
He didn’t know what crossed his mind in that moment.
But he put away his phone.
Rumors said the new episode of the show would air soon, but he had no interest—nor could he afford to pay attention anymore. Even if it premiered tomorrow, he had more pressing matters to attend to.
This summit was important. He needed work to distract himself, to keep his mind from wandering into strange places.
“Director Shen, long time no see.” A business associate he hadn’t met in a while greeted him warmly with a handshake.
Shen Yifeng responded with a polite, practiced smile. “Director Li, it’s been a while.”
“You’re here alone this time—seems you’re shouldering more responsibilities these days.”
“You flatter me. It’s just that the others in the family are occupied with their own affairs.” His tone was courteous, but the other man suddenly recalled something and added, “By the way, Director Gu hosted a gathering yesterday. I didn’t see you there—did you just arrive today?”
The man vaguely remembered that Shen Yifeng was Director Gu’s grandson-in-law, though he wasn’t sure which granddaughter was his fiancée, nor was he familiar with the Gu family dynamics.
After a moment’s thought, it finally clicked—ah, yes, Shen Yifeng’s fiancée was the eldest Gu daughter!
His smile widened, and he gave Shen Yifeng’s hand an enthusiastic shake. “Yifeng, you’re a lucky man. Miss Gu is truly exceptional!”
Shen Yifeng’s smile faltered slightly. Why bring this up now? Had he seen the recent news?
Their engagement hadn’t been publicly called off, so it wasn’t unusual for those who knew their connection to mention it in passing. Shen Yifeng forced his smile back. “Yes.”
The conversation moved on. “The first forum session starts today. I wonder who’ll be speaking—it’s a great opportunity. Pity we’re just here to make up the numbers without any groundbreaking ideas.”
“You’re too modest. If your company has nothing noteworthy to share, then who does?”
After exchanging a few more pleasantries, the forum was about to begin.
Shen Yifeng took his seat, adjusted his glasses, and folded his hands, focusing on the stage ahead.
The organizers’ opening remarks were long-winded and tedious, enough to lull anyone into drowsiness. The person beside him grew restless, doodling in a notebook, but Shen Yifeng remained still, his gaze fixed forward.
During the break, he removed his glasses and headed to the restroom.
The hallway outside was crowded with attendees mingling in small groups, their laughter—some subdued, some lively—filling the air.
As he stepped out after washing his hands, a familiar voice seemed to cut through the noise. He froze, scanning the crowd, but too many people blocked his view.
Frowning, he took a few steps forward—then caught a glimpse of a familiar figure in his periphery.
He turned sharply, but just as he moved, a group emerged from a side room, blocking his path. One of them, assuming Shen Yifeng had approached to greet him, extended a hand.
“Director Shen, I spotted you earlier but couldn’t get through the crowd to say hello.”
Shen Yifeng had no choice but to pull his attention away and return the greeting. By the time they parted, the figure was gone—no trace left, no matter how he searched.
He must have imagined it. Surely, he had.
Suppressing the unease prickling at him, he returned to his seat for the second half.
The latter session featured speeches by leading industry representatives, delving into the summit’s core themes.
This was the stage for groundbreaking proposals, the kind that drew all eyes.
His family’s conglomerate had no stake in this field, so Shen Yifeng was here primarily to observe and network. Yet, the voice and silhouette he’d glimpsed earlier lingered like a shadow, tugging at his thoughts.
For the rest of the session, his focus wavered. Instead of watching the stage, he stared at his clasped hands, lost in contemplation.
Was it her? Probably not. Just someone with a similar build or voice—the world was full of lookalikes. How could he be sure?
Director Gu might be attending the summit, but Gu Zhaoping should still be filming that variety show. She wouldn’t be here. He was losing his grip.
Shen Yifeng recognized the stubborn fixation taking root—it threatened to consume him. He pinched the bridge of his nose, inhaling deeply.
Don’t waste energy dwelling on others’ changes. Whatever Gu Zhaoping is, whoever she was, it’s none of your concern. She’s her own person.
He repeated it until he almost believed it.
“Regarding the future of renewable energy, our participating enterprises have further proposals,” the moderator announced, the translator’s voice echoing through the hall. Then the microphone shifted slightly—a faint sound, but enough to draw notice.
And then Shen Yifeng heard it.
“—This year, our Gu Group has outlined a new direction.”
The woman on stage slightly lowered her head. Since the host was a bit shorter than her, she initially had to bend slightly to speak into the microphone. Later, when the microphone was adjusted to a higher position, she straightened up, no longer needing to bend but instead resting her hands on the podium as she calmly gazed at the audience below.
For just a fleeting moment—
Shen Yifeng abruptly lifted his gaze.
Light takes 3×10⁻⁸ seconds to travel and form an image in the human eye. Across this short distance, by the time his brain registered it, his pupils had already contracted slightly, reacting faster than his thoughts. Then, the sudden pounding of his heart warned him not to betray any unusual expression.
Yet, his hand instinctively tightened around the pen on the table.
A businessman sitting nearby, who had been idly doodling out of boredom, paused and turned to look at the composed young man who had been listening attentively to the forum from the start. He found it odd.
This guy had remained utterly indifferent earlier—why was he so visibly affected now that an attractive female entrepreneur had taken the stage?
But as the woman on stage began to methodically and confidently lay out her vision, the murmurs in the audience gradually quieted, as if everyone had been drawn into the future she painted.
She was young, dressed in an elegant and understated beige suit, her hair neatly styled without a single strand out of place. She wore no flashy jewelry, only a poised and bright expression, her sleeves rolled up to her elbows, revealing slender arms with faintly visible veins.
Leaning over the podium, she flipped through her notes without a single strand of hair obscuring her face.
When she lifted her head again, her voice remained clear and resonant, filling every corner of the grand hall, mingling with the translations and echoing off the walls.
Only then did scattered whispers begin to rise around the room—many were intrigued by the prospects she described.
It was then that people slowly realized this woman on stage wasn’t just defined by her youth and striking appearance. What truly captivated them was her eloquence.
Facing such a grand occasion—attended by industry leaders, officials, and media from around the world—she could easily be considered a junior at her age, barely thirty.
Yet, she effortlessly commanded the room. Not a single person failed to listen, and no one could resist being drawn into her words, compelled to ponder them seriously.
Even the man beside Shen Yifeng, who had been fidgeting with his pen, now listened with keen interest. Seeing no one else to talk to, he turned to Shen Yifeng, who had been the most focused from the beginning.
“What do you think of her proposal?” he asked, expecting some insightful response.
“Hello? Hey?”
He called twice before Shen Yifeng finally snapped out of his daze and turned to him.
Awkwardly, the man pressed, “Her ideas just now—what’s your take? If it were you, would you consider investing?”
But Shen Yifeng’s eyes still seemed distant, as if he had only just returned to reality. He stared silently at the middle-aged man beside him, who grew unnerved under his gaze.
“…Sorry, what did you say?”
“I was asking about your thoughts on this woman—” The man glanced at the nameplate on stage, “—Gu Zhaoping. Her concept—do you see potential in it?”
He hadn’t heard.
Shen Yifeng had always been the most attentive listener, whether in lectures or during the admonitions of his elders. He had never missed a single important detail—it was his gift, his skill.
This might have been the first time he deliberately zoned out despite knowing how crucial the moment was. He hadn’t heard a word.
During that brief yet endless stretch of time, it felt like only one of his senses had been fully engaged—his eyes, fixed unwaveringly on her, as if searching desperately for proof that she was really there, his mind blank with shock.
As for his hearing? Utterly absent. He couldn’t recall a single thing she had said on stage, nor could he process the murmurs around him now.
Only now did his vision begin to refocus. He lowered his eyes apologetically. “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”
The man beside him: “…”
Seriously? Was this guy’s intense focus just a habit?
Shen Yifeng turned back, his gaze instinctively drawn to the stage—yet he didn’t dare look. Instead, he kept his head down, staring at his clasped hands.
Even in his dazed state, he noticed something unsettling—his hands were trembling slightly. Why? Why was he shaking?
But the bigger question was: Why was she here? Why was Gu Zhaoping at this summit, standing on that stage, representing the Gu family to present their vision? He had thought he could finally forget about her these past few days—so why had she appeared before him again?
Why was she like this—so different from the person he remembered?
Why was she so formidable, so confident, so radiant, so effortlessly exceptional?
Emotions surged over him like a tidal wave.
For the first time, Shen Yifeng recognized the feeling that had been gnawing at him since that day.
Regret. He was regretting it.
Gu Zhaoping finished her speech, gripping the microphone as she scanned the audience. Her eyes landed on a familiar face—Director Gu, her grandfather, who listened with rapt attention, his expression brimming with pride. He even led the applause, turning to the person beside him to boast.
She could read his lips: “That’s my granddaughter. My granddaughter.”
A faint smile touched her lips before she looked away, her gaze sweeping calmly across the room.
If you wanted an identity worth flaunting, the best way was to accomplish something worth flaunting. Then, others would eagerly proclaim their connection to you.
Her eyes passed over a vaguely familiar figure in the crowd, but she paid it no mind, continuing smoothly, “Now we’ll move to the Q&A session. Does anyone have questions about our project? Feel free to ask—I’ll address them all.”
Shen Yifeng had noticed the moment her gaze swept toward him. His chest tightened—especially when her eyes seemed to linger for half a second. He caught it instantly.
He thought she would meet his gaze, and his heart tensed for half a second, his mind drifting slightly. He wondered—if their eyes locked at this moment, should he hold her gaze a little longer or look away?
But he didn’t have to overthink it.
Gu Zhaoping’s eyes swept over the crowd below as if it were routine.
This gathering of elite power players was nothing more than an audience to her.
Shen Yifeng’s chest loosened abruptly, unsure whether it was relief that her gaze hadn’t lingered or something harder to define—a quiet disappointment, a flicker of disbelief he hadn’t dared acknowledge.
Yet just then, cutting through the sea of people, a young, striking man in the neighboring row eagerly raised his hand.
"Ms. Gu, I have a question for you."
Shen Yifeng’s head snapped up as he turned to look.
