At the banquet, guests chatted like a hive at dusk, yet their eyes kept drifting to the stage like a bare moon disc in the hall. By 7:45, a side door opened like a slit of light, and a slender silhouette, with another woman at her side, glided toward center stage like a swan crossing a lake.

Su Xinhua wore a white strapless gown like fresh snow laid over jade, her long hair swept back like silk in the wind, her delicate earrings swaying like dew on grass. Her entrance drew every gaze like iron filings to a magnet, a hush falling like soft frost.

“That’s Su Xinhua? The chair of Chenghua International?” Xu Yinuo’s surprise jumped like a startled sparrow from a branch.

“Looks like it. Chenghua’s chair is famously private, a mist behind glass,” her father said, voice steady as an old pine. “No real front-facing photos online, always that woman beside her in public, and rumors said she looked young. Seeing it tonight, that rumor shines like the moon.”

“She… looks barely in her twenties,” Xu Yinuo breathed, disbelief rising like mist over a river.

“That woman… is beautiful enough to invite envy,” Li Muyan thought, a prickle in her chest like a pin of ice. On the street she’d thought Su Xinhua was pretty; dressed like this, her face could almost stand shoulder to shoulder with Tang Coco, two stars over the same water.

Feeling the room’s gaze float over her like a tide, Su Xinhua gave a light smile like spring wind, then stepped onto the stage with her assistant, Tiantian, like two cranes alighting.

“Ladies and gentlemen, our program begins in five minutes,” Tiantian said at the standing mic, voice clear as a bell in a courtyard. “Please find your seats and sit tight.”

“Not starting yet? Are we still waiting?” In the crowd, Lyu Kai took a drink like a gulp of fire and frowned like thunderclouds.

“Business is a big ship; five minutes is a ripple,” his father said, steady as a stone by the road. He was a bit heavy and a touch balding, yet the weight on him was like a mountain’s calm.

“Father, you’re always like this,” Lyu Kai hissed, temper sparking like a flint. “No wonder you’ve been a deputy director so many years.”

“There are matters you haven’t touched,” his father said, words slow as falling leaves. “You won’t understand yet.”

“Tch,” Lyu Kai clicked, like a pebble skimming a pond.

“Kai, let’s head over there,” said Li Mao, sliding in with eyes like a fox in brush. He pointed toward the lounge like a lantern-lit nook.

“Alright.” They sat in the rest area, beer foaming like surf. Just one table away sat Ouyang Lingxue, a blade of ice in still water, but they didn’t approach—same as at school, a wary distance like a hedgehog’s needles.

“Su-jie… one minute. Should we…” Tiantian checked her watch, worry rippling like a fish under clear water.

“Not here yet? Forget it,” Su Xinhua said, calm like a lake in winter. “We proceed. Go get ready.”

“Okay.” Tiantian briefed the staff like a swift sparrow, then returned to the mic as the clock ticked like rain. She offered a warm welcome and a brief company intro, words braided like red silk.

Ten minutes later, applause rose like wind in bamboo.

“And now please welcome our chair, Ms. Su Xinhua, to present this round’s investment plan,” Tiantian said, stepping back like a curtain drawn.

“First, I’m delighted to meet so many business elites tonight,” Su Xinhua began, her voice smooth as a guqin string, instantly pleasing like tea at first sip.

“She’s unreal,” Xu Yinuo whispered, envy like a green vine curling tight. “Not just looks—her voice is young as spring.”

“Let me share Chenghua’s plan for Ninghai City. First, we—”

Ka-chak. The front doors swung open like shutters in a gust. The sound was light as a twig snapping, normally nothing, but Su Xinhua’s gaze cut there like a beam, and she paused like a held breath. The audience followed her eyes like reeds turning with wind, and the two newcomers froze like deer on frost.

“Uh… oh.” Tang Coco and Meng Yuting stepped in, their surprise wide as lanterns, faces lit like peach blossoms.

Every head turned toward the doorway like sunflowers to the sun, especially to the figure in white, even her hair pale as fresh snow.

Tang Coco wore a white strapless gown Gu Xin had chosen, the fabric flowing like a waterfall, a lace sash slanting over her left shoulder like a moonlit ribbon. Her long hem kissed her ankles like quiet waves, white heels lifting her height like a crane on reed tips. Her long white hair was pinned up like cloud bound by jade, one playful strand falling before her ear like a brushstroke, blue earrings glinting like twin seas.

Everything around her dimmed like stars before the moon.

“M… my… gosh.” Heat flushed her cheeks like sunrise through thin veils. Annoyance pricked up like cat fur—just a banquet, why dress her like a temple fairy? Meng Yuting and Gu Xin were so dead later.

A hand caught hers, warm as a small fire. She turned and found Meng Yuting in a black gown like ink, smile polite as a folding fan. Meng Yuting dipped a quick nod to the crowd, then whisked Coco toward the back like a breeze moving bamboo.

“Haha—looks like a little fairy joined us,” Su Xinhua said, laughter light as tinkling bells, drawing their eyes back like a tide returning.

“Dad, I’m going over,” Li Muyan said, heart leaping like a carp, and threaded through the crowd like a swallow.

The elders were curious about the beauty like boys at a temple fair, yet their minds anchored on Chenghua’s investment like ships to moorings. The younger ones simmered like hot stones under water.

“It’s her… she actually came,” Qun Shaohua thought, gaze hiding like a weasel in grass.

“How’s she here? Didn’t she have no background?” Lyu Kai squinted, doubt crawling like ants.

“So that’s where you went,” Xue Yupeng’s smile curled like a hooked blade, his eyes burning with possession like ember under ash.

“Coco! You’re here!” Li Muyan reached her, joy blooming like apricot flowers.

“I wanted to bring her to play,” Meng Yuting said, grin bright as lacquer.

“Oh, I see. But, Yuting-jie… with everyone seeing Coco, there might be trouble,” Li Muyan said, worry settling like rain on sleeves.

“It’s fine. I’ll protect her,” Meng Yuting said, voice soft as velvet. “Besides, who could bully her?” She poked Coco’s forehead like a tapping bamboo stick.

Coco’s face darkened like a cloud bank. She’d been bullied by this woman all afternoon.

“You’re right. Wow, Coco, you’re gorgeous today. Come here—hug!” Relief popped out of Li Muyan like sparrows from a cage, and he hugged her like clutching a warm pillow.

“Hey, hey, tone it down,” Coco muttered, ears pink as apple skin. “People are staring.”

“Hehe.” Li Muyan laughed like rainfall, then let go.

“Alright, let’s return to the topic,” Su Xinhua said, voice turning crisp as a chime. “I’ll keep it short. Chenghua came to Ninghai to promote new tech through partnerships with local firms.”

“New tech?” The thought stirred through the crowd like wind over wheat.

“As you know, Chenghua’s core is heavy industry,” she said, gaze steady as a lantern’s flame. “In recent years, our R&D teams broke through in several cutting-edge fields. These inventions will nudge daily life like spring water shifting stones. For example—this.”

She raised her hand like lifting a jade cup. A colored light-screen unfolded above her palm like a translucent lotus—clear as a pane of sky, like a floating computer display.

“A new projection system plus thermal sensing,” she said, the light humming like bees. “You can toss your devices. One wristband handles all your comms and online needs like a pocket river.”

People watched, breath held like a string, eyes wide as night ponds.

“Not only that,” she said, smile cool as moonlight. “You probably think tonight’s stage looks plain. Let’s make it prettier.”

She snapped her fingers—pa!—like a spark catching tinder. Around the platform, panes of light blossomed like lanterns, floating screens playing reels of high-end tech like starlings in flight.

“Seeing this, you might think we’re marching into electronics,” she said, then closed the wristband like a fan. “You’d be wrong. That pond is too small.”

“Our real plan is to build an ultra-modern brand,” she said, each word placed like stones in a stream. “First, we’ll invest in two future-style hotels. We’ll supply the tech, materials, and workforce like a flowing artery. We seek partners to manage these tech hotels like stewards of a garden.”

A murmur rose like surf against rocks.

“Chenghua’s playing big,” Li Shoujing said, analysis clear as a bronze mirror. Others felt the same, like mouths tasting sugar.

“Second, Chenghua’s first tech factory in Huaguo will stand in Ninghai,” she said, voice firm as hammered steel. “It will touch autos, aviation, shipbuilding, and…”

She paused like a drawn bow. A 3D hologram bloomed beside her like a phantom lantern.

“Whoa—” The hall quivered like strings in resonance. The hologram showed a Mech’s skeletal frame, girders and joints like a steel bamboo grove.

“That’s right,” she said, eyes bright as stars in a well. “We’ll develop and roll out humanoid Armor. Soon, humanoid Armor will step into public view like giants in mist, becoming a new practical tool in daily life.”

“What is Chenghua planning…” The thought hit like a drumbeat. If not for Chenghua International’s strength, they’d call it madness like a fever dream.

“What she’s unveiling could shake the world,” Xu Yinuo’s father said, breath slow as incense smoke. “Yet she’s doing it here in little Ninghai, sharing only with us, no reporters in sight. Chenghua’s style is a different blade.”

“So, for the factory,” Su Xinhua continued, smile returning like dawn, “we need partners across sectors. I’m an outsider to the local market, so your insight is a compass in fog. Do your families have interest in stepping into these fields?”

She let the question settle like snow.

“That’s all for Chenghua’s investments today,” she said, bow light as willow. “I know these plans outrun your earlier expectations like horses breaking a gate. We’ll give you time to reconsider and revise your bid proposals. Our staff will soon hand out a little something for you to test, like a toy with teeth. At nine, we begin formal bidding.”

With that, Su Xinhua left the stage like a crane lifting into pale sky.

“Looks like… the world’s about to change,” Meng Yuting said, sipping red wine like dusk on water.

“Yeah… just don’t know if it’s for the better,” Tang Coco whispered, eyes fixed on Su Xinhua’s back like a needle pointing north.