They arrived at the estate in a sleek black car, chauffeured by one of his father’s few trusted drivers. That was something incredibly important, he’d explained to Xingyu when he was a child: you must be able to put your life into the hands of people who transport you. A driver could suddenly crash the car and kill you, could take you some place you wouldn’t want to be, could roll down the window and give a sniper access to your head. This particular driver had been working for Xingyu’s father since before they’d even had that conversation, but he greeted and interacted with Xingyu with the same familiarity that a new employee did, which is to say he nodded and said “Yes, sir,” and absolutely nothing else.

The Chen estate was massive—bigger than the Liu estate, at least in size. It was swarming with employees and guests. Xingyu’s father didn’t look at any of them. He breezed through and expected Xingyu to follow right behind. Xingyu’s father was the sort of person who didn’t look at anyone unless he deemed them worthy of his attention, and that wasn’t something that happened often. He didn’t even look at a good number of his employees.

“Liu Baiyan.” A man was approaching them. He was tall, slender, with dull black hair and a regal look to him. “Fashionably late as always.”

“I didn’t see a reason to arrive any earlier.” Xingyu’s father was actually looking at this man. Xingyu knew he looked familiar—this must be Chen Jun. “You remember my son, Xingyu.”

“Ah, yes.” Chen Jun smiled warmly and took Xingyu’s hand in his, bowing without waiting for a greeting. “It’s a pleasure to see you again. I heard you were studying abroad.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you for hosting this event.” Xingyu gave him a smile in return, just as warm. “Your estate is beautiful as always.”

“Oh, no, it’s still a mess. We’re trying to handle it as best as we can. What were you studying abroad, if I may ask?”

“Business.”

“Oh, yes—your father always had high hopes for you to carry on the Liu legacy.”

Xingyu’s mouth was beginning to taste terrible. “It’s always best to be prepared.”

Chen Jun went back to speaking to Xingyu’s father. Xingyu could understand some of what they talked about, but most of it was referencing things he didn’t yet know about—things that were too fragmented to make any use of them.

“Excuse me,” he said once there was a lull in the conversation, “do you know where Xiao-Xiao is?”

“Xiao-Xiao?—ah, Xiaokai! Yes, he should be inside. He must be with Rang’er.”

Rang’er—yes, that was Chen Jun’s son. Xingyu hadn’t been able to remember his name before. “I should go find them, then.” Xingyu gave him a short bow. “Excuse me.”