Chapter 113

 

In the business world, over these past few years, Ming Xi has come to understand a truth—

The commercial sea is ruthless; storms rise without warning and waves are perilous. Winners take all, losers bear the cost—this is a reality one must face.

Eight years ago, she believed money was the best companion in the world. She wanted piles of cash crashing into her arms, while the most useless thing—love—brushed past her and went its own way.

Now, she found it hard to judge which matters more: love or money.

Last year, on the third-floor terrace, Gu Shuangyang had a long, intimate conversation with her. Speaking candidly about the time she decided to be with Yang Minwen, she said bluntly, without the slightest hesitation: “Who says a strong woman doesn’t need a man’s love? Love isn’t some flood or wild beast. The reason people get hurt by love is because they treat it as a spiritual crutch. Look at it from another angle—love has real, tangible value. Only when that value is concrete can you objectively assess whether this person’s love is worth staking everything on.

“Miss Ming, you understand now, don’t you? The son I raised will definitely be a pragmatist.”

However, Gu Shuangyang had to admit that Liang Jiancheng’s idealism was inherited from Professor Liang.

“Congratulations, Miss Ming. You’ve finally become family.” Gu Shuangyang, who rarely texted anyone, personally sent Ming Xi this message.

The speed at which they got their marriage certificate was astonishing. Since Ming Xi’s household registration had long been independent, there was no need to consult family. She had no family to inform anyway, and Liang Jiancheng hadn’t mentioned it to Gu Shuangyang or Professor Liang beforehand either.

Still, once it was done, it had to be announced.

On Gu Shuangyang’s side, Old Liao had already called to ask for wedding candies. As for Old Liang, Liang Jiancheng planned to wait until his father returned from Dali University during the summer before arranging a family dinner. In recent years, Professor Liang had been rehired there; the distant mountains and quiet surroundings suited his preference for a simple, peaceful life.

However, after submitting the shareholder information form, Liang Jiancheng still called his father, solemnly informing him: “Ming Xi and I have registered our marriage.”

On the other end of the phone, Professor Liang’s reaction was mild, his voice calm: “You just got your marriage certificate? I thought you were calling to tell me you were going to be a father.”

Liang Jiancheng, unusually serious, said, “As for becoming a father, I’ll work hard—strive to be a father like you.”

Professor Liang was silent for a moment, then changed the subject: “Just be a good husband. Children will follow their own path. Your mother and I didn’t give you any special upbringing, yet you turned out just fine.”

Old Liang rarely praised his son Liang Jiancheng, but now that he was married, he couldn’t treat Liang Jiancheng as a child, but as an equal man. Over the years, whether in his career or his attitude towards relationships, Liang Jiancheng’s performance had been commendable.

Then Professor Liang asked about the wedding. Liang Jiancheng said they would discuss it after they finished this year’s work. Professor Liang nodded in agreement: “The wedding is just a formality. Even if you hold it later, just pick a time when the family can all gather and the setting is right. No need to put too much effort into it.”

“Ming Xi and I think the same,” Liang Jiancheng replied.

Professor Liang exposed him bluntly, “That’s what Ming Xi thinks, isn’t it?”

Liang Jiancheng didn’t deny it. He just smiled lightly and said no more.

It was rare for father and son to have such a warm, harmonious conversation—but it didn’t last long. The very next moment, Old Liang spoke bluntly: “If you and Ming Xi do hold a wedding, don’t invite me. I won’t have time.”

Liang Jiancheng: …

Old Liang’s words meant that he wouldn’t care about the wedding arrangements, and he might not even come.

“Dad…” Liang Jiancheng was speechless for a moment, “At least for Ming Xi’s sake, you should come. In her heart, you’re not just her mentor—you’re like a father.”

Those last words made Old Liang pause and consider for a second. He sighed and relented, but as the groom’s father, he was supposed to take responsibility for the wedding—and Ming Xi had no family on her side. Old Liang was a responsible teacher and a responsible father, but people can’t do what they’re simply not suited to do.

“Fine. When you hold the wedding, I’ll attend—as Ming Xi’s teacher.”

Liang Jiancheng: “…”

“My own wedding—and you won’t help at all?”

“What is there to help anyway? What do you need now that I can provide? I’m just an old man—what can I handle? Do you lack money or manpower?” For the first time, Old Liang said something completely hands-off. “If you need people, Director Gu can find you a team. If you want someone to oversee things, go to Yang Minwen—he can handle it. Anyway, I can’t.”

Liang Jiancheng didn’t insist: “Alright.”

Ming Xi did care about Old Liang’s attitude. Liang Jiancheng only passed along his father’s blessings and said nothing about him refusing to handle the wedding. Even if he had told her everything, Ming Xi would likely have understood.

In fact, she not only understood—she had known in advance. Professor Liang treated her no differently from Liang Jiancheng. She had informed him of their marriage even earlier, and his reaction had been exactly the same.

That was why, although Ming Xi and Liang Jiancheng registered their marriage in 2008, they never held a wedding.

In 2025, when Liang Jiancheng finally had free time, he suggested making up for it—holding a wedding so he could enjoy being a groom. Ming Xi rolled her eyes incredulously: “Liang Jiancheng, are you out of your mind? If people saw us having a wedding at our age, they’d think it’s a second marriage!”

Boss Liang: “…” Did Miss Ming think he was old?

Not old, not old at all—someone became a groom every night, how could he be old? By 2025, Miss Ming had long mastered the art of coaxing her husband—something this small was effortless for her.

…

On Friday, at Mr. Hé’s memorial service, almost everyone from the entire Haigang Foreign Trade Association attended.

A line of black sedans with different Haigang license plates drove into Tingquan Villa.

On the way there, Ming Xi and Liang Jiancheng rode together. Liang Jiancheng mentioned that Mr. Hé’s death was likely closely related to his involvement in the financial sector over the past few years.

Outwardly, people may appear successful and glorious—but the truth, and the state of one’s mind, are known only to the person involved.

If ordinary business was like a blooming rose—beautiful and fragrant—then the rules of the financial world were more like opium: alluring, dangerous, and irresistibly addictive.

After transitioning from foreign trade into real industry, Liang Jiancheng had focused on technology manufacturing. During the period when Xinghai Technology was preparing for its IPO, he had frequent contact with investment banks and felt this deeply. He could say with certainty that the mindset of the financial world was entirely different from that of domestic manufacturing.

He himself had studied economics, specializing in pragmatic economics. Yet the “game” of the financial world had gradually moved beyond traditional economics, revolving instead around the deepest greed in human nature.

Could human nature be completely controlled by money? Was it the fault of money itself, or of the human heart? The question was far too complex.

Even medieval Roman churches once issued indulgences, raising funds in the name of religion, representing God in raising money. Religion engaged in business, and money could atone for sins. If money were truly the root of all evil, then commerce—driven by profit—were, in fact, the main artery of human cultural development.

This spring, misfortunes came one after another: car accident, snow disaster, the death of colleagues… each one evoking deep sorrow. If faith was the lighthouse guiding one’s will, then unpredictable fate was like a voyage with no shore to return to.

The car arrived at Tingquan Villa, and the driver opened the door.

Liang Jiancheng stepped out first, then helped Ming Xi out of the car.

Today, both were dressed in black formal attire. On the ring fingers of their left hands, each wore a simple silver wedding band. The 3.6-carat diamond ring was far too eye-catching—after wearing it for just two days, Ming Xi had carefully stored it away in her dressing room safe. But these understated bands fit perfectly on their fingers—unassuming, yet just right.

Unexpectedly, the first time they appeared before others as husband and wife was at a memorial service.

It was Ming Xi’s first time at Tingquan Villa. This place—rumored to be where the wealthy and powerful bid their final farewell—consisted of two low yet solemn buildings, surrounded by lush camphor trees and tall pines. Today, wreaths were neatly arranged beneath the trees, and white mourning couplets swayed gently in the shadows, grief rising with the wind.

After the moment of silence, the Hé family arranged a simple reception on the second floor of the building at the back.

Once the mourning was done, people gradually moved toward the rear building for the meal.

Director Sheng was also present today. Former competitors and business partners had all arrived, making for quite a gathering.

He Yuan came as well, accompanied by his wife, Ming Yue.

Haigang was a large city. Those in the same industry were usually busy with their own affairs, and without deliberate arrangements, rarely crossed paths—but news about each other still circulated. Ming Yue had rarely appeared in public these past few years; she had gone to the United States to get pregnant and give birth. The child was born there and held a U.S. green card. He Yuan already had a son; gaining a daughter in middle age made him, in many ways, a fortunate man.

Given how strained their relationship had been, Ming Xi naturally hadn’t gone out of her way to send congratulations when Ming Yue gave birth. Now, in this memorial hall, Ming Xi and Liang Jiancheng stood on one side, while Ming Yue and He Yuan stood on the other. Their gazes met briefly—Ming Xi did not deliberately avoid it.

Having given birth, Ming Yue had not gained weight like Sister CC, nor had she become more gentle. Instead, with the loss of collagen, her once stunning face had grown sharper, her features more cutting, exuding an aggressive intensity. Perhaps motherhood had made her stronger—standing beside He Yuan now, her presence overshadowed his.

Thinking back eight years ago, when she had interviewed at Haiou Company, He Yuan had still carried the charm and composure of a mature man. Now, all that remained was a kind of listless fatigue that comes with middle age.

In this circle, news and secrets spread like wildfire, instantly becoming the talk of the town.

When Director Sheng saw Ming Xi today, he immediately asked about her car accident from last year.

To Ming Xi, that accident was almost a highlight of her life. Afterward, when she saw the surveillance footage, she had even wanted Xinyu to edit it into a company video, complete with a slogan: “Life-and-death speed—Mingzhou rivals the sun and moon.” However, Liang Jiancheng, unusually serious, wouldn’t allow her to treat it as a joke.

Inside the second-floor banquet hall, Ming Xi and Liang Jiancheng sat at the same table as Director Sheng.

Ming Xi briefly explained that it was the thick snow that day which had ultimately saved her life.

“That means Miss Ming is blessed by fate, and seeing you and Mr. Liang standing side by side today does ease some of the sorrow in my heart.” Director Sheng said frankly, refraining from offering direct congratulations due to the inappropriate occasion.

Ming Xi and Liang Jiancheng sat quietly, saying nothing more about their marriage, only nodding in acknowledgment.

Both dressed in black, they complemented each other perfectly—one calm and steady, the other sharp yet restrained. Director Sheng, having spent decades in office and seen countless people, might not see through everyone at a glance, but he held this newlywed couple in high regard. If he were to describe them in poetic terms, they were both “like still lakes on the surface, with thunder hidden within.”

Liang Jiancheng, in the name of husband and wife, thanked Director Sheng for the praise. Director Sheng waved it off.

Once, he had thought He Yuan refined and modest. Unfortunately, when pride strayed off course, it was hard to regain clarity. As a leader, he felt deep regret for He Yuan’s current state. So Director Sheng stood, walked to the table beside He Yuan and Ming Yue, and patted He Yuan on the shoulder. Using the occasion of mourning Mr. Hé, he said with feeling: “Misfortune or blessing—who can predict? Old Hé is gone. From now on, no matter what difficulties we in Haigang face, we must grit our teeth and carry on. The sky will not fall!”

He Yuan and Ming Yue stood up together. Ming Yue had never liked Director Sheng, but she forced a smile and said teasingly, though pointedly: “Director Sheng, the way you say that—you praise Ming Xi and Mr. Liang first, then come to comfort us. What, you don’t think much of us?”

Ming Yue’s expression was sharp and provocative. Her striking yet slightly weary face carried an almost aggressive arrogance.

In the past, He Yuan would have stopped her from offending Director Sheng. Today, however, he did not—he even felt a strange sense of satisfaction. Deep down, they were alike. Ming Yue’s blunt words voiced what he himself thought, giving his weary, drifting middle-aged mindset a secret, almost illicit pleasure.

“Ming Yue, don’t talk nonsense! Director Sheng didn’t mean that. Even if he did, it was just encouragement, right, Director Sheng?” He Yuan chuckled, trying to smooth things over for his wife.

Years ago, outside a private room at the Scully Hotel, He Yuan had slapped Ming Yue. Now, he finally understood—blood ties and marriage were far more important than mentorship or a superior’s favor. No matter how flawed Ming Yue was, she had borne him a daughter. As for others? They were merely opportunists. He wanted to see—who would be the next Hé Fengrong? Would it be Ming Xi, currently in the spotlight? Or Liang Jiancheng, whose company was about to go public? Even Director Sheng—respected by all now—but would the saying “once a person leaves, the tea grows cold” not come true one day?

Just then, He Yuan suddenly spoke up: “Come, let’s go toast my brother-in-law and sister—wish them a long and happy marriage.”

The moment he said it, everyone at his table was stunned, their expressions shifting.

To offer congratulations to newlyweds at a funeral—wasn’t that deliberately inviting bad luck, intentionally causing discomfort?

Everyone in the industry knew that Ming Yue and Ming Xi were half-sisters, but their relationship was strained. Outsiders might not know the details, but judging from their actions alone, Ming Xi was rational and decisive, unlike this Mrs. He—

No one, absolutely no one, would deliberately offer such ill-timed congratulations at someone else’s funeral.

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