novelraw Chapter 735: Private Estate
Chapter 735: Private Estate
Chapter 735: Private EstateDecember 15, 2023, Friday.
Six in the morning, and Yancheng’s sky was still ink-black.
North City Garden residential complex.
"Ugh... ba-ba..."
Murmured sobs echoed softly through the room.
In the bedroom, Qiuqiu woke up from a sudden, inexplicable restlessness.
She sat up, rubbed her cheeks, and, a little flustered, stared at the still-dark sky outside the window.
Scenes from her dream began flashing through her mind.
Tang Song’s tall figure, his heated hands, his moist lips...
As if she had returned to that night in the Rongcheng hotel.Her hand instinctively moved to her heaving chest, and her cheeks burned as if about to catch fire.
Most importantly, why did she always want to call him that?
Qiuqiu stared blankly at the ceiling, shame washing over her like a tide.
Could it be... that she was some sort of pervert?
After a while.
She suddenly felt something strange from her body.
She hurriedly got up and walked into the bathroom.
After a moment, she turned on the faucet and splashed her face hard with icy water.
Staring at the flushed version of herself in the mirror, she felt utterly foreign.
She didn’t know why, but whenever it came to Tang Song, these messy thoughts always surfaced uncontrollably.
Was it because she lacked a father’s love as a child? How could this happen?
Still, it wasn’t all bad.
Lately, with Tang Song appearing frequently in her dreams, those nightmares that had haunted her for over a decade had not returned even once.
Even a few days ago, when Lingling went to Zhang Jiahong’s place and Qiuqiu spent the night alone in this big apartment, she did not feel the usual terror.
Thinking about her body’s recent reaction...
She felt as if her frigidity was speeding toward recovery.
In other words... she... she might be able to... have sex?
At the thought, her body trembled violently.
Back in the bedroom, she went to the windowsill and drew aside the heavy curtains.
The snow outside had long since stopped;
in the darkness, the whole complex lay quiet and white.
She stared blankly for a long time.
Only when the muffled sound of movement came from the living room did she gradually come back to herself.
She quickly changed into yoga clothes and walked out the door.
She saw Lingling doing core-strength training.
Lingling wore a gray short-sleeve top and matching loose workout pants.
She was lying on a mat, focused on glute bridges and side leg raises, intent on sculpting her posterior.
Watching the rise and fall of her body, the slender waist and ample hip line outlined curves that combined power and sensual tension.
"Morning, QQ." Lingling noticed the noise, turned, and greeted between breaths.
"..Morning." Qiuqiu’s face still had a flush. "You’ve got real determination, training core every day. That must be exhausting."
"Well, work’s busy and you sit all day. If I don’t train, my butt will sag."
The two chatted as they warmed up.
Qiuqiu spread out her own mat and began stretches and yoga.
One focused on strength and shaping, the other on flexibility and lines;
it made for a balanced routine.
After finishing the last set, Lingling collapsed onto the floor from pure fatigue.
She grabbed a towel to wipe her sweat, came over, and looked at Qiuqiu who was doing a difficult backbend.
She couldn’t help reaching out to pinch Qiuqiu’s waist. "Oh my god, your flexibility is insane. How are you so soft?"
Qiuqiu was ticklish where she pinched and blushed. "..Practice makes it so."
Lingling’s hand wandered upward and poked her chest teasingly. "Whoa, so big—seriously jealous."
Her only present advantage was her waist-to-hip ratio.
The senior really liked it;
every time...
If she lost that edge, she’d have nothing left.
So she trained harder.
Qiuqiu, embarrassed by the teasing, snapped, "Stop it."
"Aww, you’re starting to look more like superstar Su Yu, especially your figure. I’m a hardcore Su Yu fan. If I can’t hug the star, hugging my Qiuqiu lets me feel her charm."
Lingling laughed and wrapped her arms around Qiuqiu from behind, rubbing against her like a playful vixen.
"So comfy! Soft and fragrant!"
"Stop it, Lingling, you pervert, let go."
Laughter and teasing rang through the living room.
After a while.
Gasping, Qiuqiu said, "Okay, okay, I’ll go buy breakfast. What do you want?"
"Come with me, let’s eat in."
They changed and went downstairs.
Just as they reached the bottom of Building 4, they collided with a girl wearing a backpack.
She had a pure white down jacket, a cute bun, fresh and pretty.
"Hi." Lele bent politely forward to greet them.
"Hi." Qiuqiu recognized her and nodded.
"Wow?!" Lingling’s attention snapped to the down jacket, delighted. "Qiuqiu, this is the unreleased piece you mentioned. It really is our company’s new release."
Her face was bright and natural. "Girl, this jacket looks amazing on you! It really matches your clean temperament!"
Qian Lele blushed. "Thanks. The design is good, and the quality’s great."
She already guessed these two worked at Tang Song’s company.
"Thanks for the compliment." Lingling smiled proudly. "Truth be told, I’m one of the designers of this jacket."
"Really? Impressive."
"What a coincidence. Let’s get acquainted. I’m Yao Lingling. Call me Lingling."
"Hi, I’m Qian Lele."
"Oh? We’re quite fated then. This is Cheng Qiuqiu. We all have repeating characters in our names, hahaha."
"Quite the coincidence."
"Do you live in Building 4 too?"
"No, my teacher lives here. I came to visit her."
"Oh, I see. Too bad." Lingling looked regretful, then cheerily patted Lele’s shoulder. "We’re off to eat. Bye-bye."
"Bye."
....
After breakfast, they returned to the rented apartment.
Seeing Lingling about to shower, Qiuqiu hurriedly warned, "Lingling, be careful. That wall-mounted water heater seems buggy. The temperature’s unstable and suddenly gets scalding hot."
Lingling nodded and immediately said, "I should ask my senior for the after-sales contact. They just replaced it so it should still be under warranty."
As she spoke, Lingling picked up her phone and saw an unread message.
[Su Yu's April: "Lingling, I’ve arrived in Yancheng today. Can I come see you and Qiuqiu tomorrow? (#excited)"]
Lingling snorted with laughter and shoved the screen at Qiuqiu.
"See? The drama queen really is coming! I’m quite curious now. I want to find out whose face is that thick. Haha." She paused, then lowered her voice like someone watching a show. "She’s definitely here for Tang Song."
Qiuqiu murmured, "But President Tang went abroad, right?"
"Exactly! That’s why it’s funny." Lingling was delighted. "She’ll miss him and come away empty-handed. What a comedic trip."
Lingling laughed as she replied quickly: "No problem, welcome to Yancheng. I’ll treat you to great food tomorrow. (#beer)"
After sending it, she opened Xu Qing’s chat and messaged: "Senior—are you busy? The wall heater might be broken. Do you have a contact for after-sales repair?"
"Buzz buzz buzz——"
[Xu Qing: "Hold on, I’ll find it and send it in a bit."]
Putting down her phone, Lingling winked at Qiuqiu. "QQ, want to take a shower together? I’ll scrub your back."
"No." Qiuqiu’s face flushed as she hurried back into her room.
Watching her retreating figure, Lingling felt sentimental. She had seen Qiuqiu slowly become more cheerful;
now she could joke without restraint.
That was great.
......
Lan Feng International Apartments, Unit 2202.
After sending the after-sales contact,
voices outside cried: "Qingqing, hurry and pack, it’s time for work!"
"Soon!" Xu Qing replied, rolled out of bed, and sat up.
She put on clothes and a coat.
After tidying up, she put on her new watch and left in style.
The two rode the elevator down to the B1 garage.
They had just sat into the flashy Aston Martin DB11 and started the engine.
"Riiing—" the phone suddenly rang.
[Wen Ruan]
Shen Yuyan in the passenger seat tilted slightly and signaled with her eyes, mouthing: "Use speaker."
Xu Qing fumbled and pressed speaker, answering: "Hello? Wen Ruan?"
"Qingqing, have you eaten?" Wen Ruan’s voice came through lazy and amused.
"I’ve eaten. I’m heading to the office now. What’s up?"
"It’s like this, I’m returning to Yancheng from Imperial Capital this afternoon." Wen Ruan sounded casual. "I want to invite you to dinner at my place."
Again?! Damn.
Xu Qing instantly became wary, PTSD bubbling up.
The first time she’d been invited, she encountered pervert Xiao Jing;
the second time, shy Zhang Yan.
Wen Ruan’s home was a battlefield generator!
"Wen Ruan... today might not be convenient. I have plans tonight. Maybe—"
"Oh?" Wen Ruan cut her off. "Aside from us, there will also be a senior executive from Tang Entertainment. You know Tang Entertainment is a major shareholder of our Xingyun International. They specifically wanted to meet you—the golden screenwriter and future minor shareholder—and meet you in person. Are you sure... you won’t come?"
One sentence extinguished Xu Qing’s excuses.
Shen Yuyan promptly patted her thigh, then pointed at herself and silently mouthed: "Bring me."
Xu Qing jolted and hurried, "Alright then. I promised my best friend tonight—how about I bring her along?"
"Oh? Is it Yuyan?" Wen Ruan’s voice took on a strange tone.
"Yes, yes! It’s Yanyan!"
"Fine, no problem." Wen Ruan agreed readily. "See you tonight."
"See you tonight, Wen Ruan."
After hanging up, Xu Qing patted her chest and breathed a sigh of relief.
"Yanyan, you really are coming with me? No backing out!"
"Mm, don’t worry." Shen Yuyan smiled lightly and nodded, her gaze glittering.
A Tang Entertainment executive...
Xu Qing had an inkling of Tang Song’s connection to Tang Entertainment but no hard proof.
Now, the other side had used Wen Ruan to specifically request meeting the unobtrusive Xu Qing.
Clearly, there was some deeper meaning.
Likely, this person was another core figure around Tang Song.
What was their relationship with Tang Song?
A partner?
A trusted aide?
Or... another woman in Tang Song’s inner circle?
Shen Yuyan took a deep breath and pressed a hand over her chest.
It wasn’t jealousy so much as a fierce competitive drive.
And she was never afraid of competition.
Moreover, she wanted to proactively integrate herself and get along with Tang Song’s other women.
Wen Ruan was undoubtedly a valuable foothold.
The car eased away from Lan Feng International.
Snowy Yancheng scenery blurred past the window, the air crisp.
Within minutes they stopped beneath Tower A of the Financial Center.
Shen Yuyan stepped out with her bag and high heels and entered the lobby.
"Morning, Shirley."
"Morning."
At the office, Shen Yuyan poured herself a coffee before she sat down.
She opened her computer and resumed researching Smile Holdings.
Focused and earnest.
Time quietly ticked by.
"Dingdong—" a WeChat notice sounded.
[Lu Ziming: "Finally off work, I’m dead tired. Just saw your message—are you really coming to New York this weekend? You’re not joking, right?"]
Shen Yuyan stopped her work and replied with a smile: "Of course it’s real. I’m going on a business trip. Lu analyst, are you free to meet up?"
She wasn’t trying to chat with Lu Ziming;
she wanted to give Tang Song a surprise.
In a foreign land, with his old roommate present, the former campus belle openly flirting...
For a man, that should be uniquely satisfying, right?
[Lu Ziming: "I’d like to, but I’m not sure I’ll have time."]
Shen Yuyan: "Working so hard? Wall Street grind possessed you?"
[Lu Ziming: "It’s not me—this project’s a nightmare. Who said America doesn’t have its own politics? It’s all fake! Are you free to talk? Typing won’t do."]
Shen Yuyan rose and walked into a quiet small meeting room, calling him.
From the line came car horns and Lu Ziming’s weary voice: "Hey, Yanyan... man, talking about work here gives me a headache."
As Lu Ziming explained, Shen Yuyan slowly grasped the situation.
The project invested by Tiancheng Capital involved AI algorithms and had been flagged by CFIUS for "national security risks," initiating an intense review.
It had fallen into a bureaucratic nightmare of secondary investigations.
The project was essentially on life support.
That explained why Lu Ziming had been stuck over there for more than two months, exhausted.
Shen Yuyan thought for a moment. "This kind of thing is hard to resolve purely through legal channels. Has your company thought of approaching higher-ups for help?"
Domestically, such matters usually require smoothing government relations.
America likely had similar needs, only in a more legal guise.
Lu Ziming’s voice was full of helplessness and self-mockery: "Our company has some reputation in Yan Province, but on Wall Street we’re nothing. This project isn’t even that big. If we’re talking top-level help, you mean K Street lobbying firms—we can’t afford them and we don’t have the clout."
Shen Yuyan comforted him, "Right, don’t worry too much. There are leaders above covering things."
"Leaders only shirk responsibility!" Lu Ziming fumed. "If this fails, I won’t be promoted for two years—what can I say..."
They talked briefly and hung up.
Standing by the floor-to-ceiling window of the meeting room, Shen Yuyan inhaled slowly.
She keenly realized that the trouble Lu Ziming faced today would be a looming issue for future tech companies like Xuanji Optical World, and potentially much worse.
As chief ecosystem officer and as someone who would accompany Tang Song into the global stage, she would inevitably have to step into that ruthless, top-tier arena.
Back at her desk, she opened a browser and began researching CFIUS and K Street lobbying firms.
Soon, a freshly published Wall Street Journal tech headline caught her eye—
"DOJ Drops Suit, European Chip Giant ONO Semiconductor Acquisition Sees Turnaround, Push Led by Sloan-Huntington"
She clicked the article;
her eyes flickered.
Sloan-Huntington Strategy Group.
She’d heard of this firm during her P&
G days.
It’s one of K Street’s most elite and secretive bipartisan strategy groups, founded by Huntington and Elizabeth Sloan.
The former was a top political power player in America.
Elizabeth Sloan, forty, had an astonishing resume.
To win a gun control debate, she once orchestrated a scandal large enough to shake the Senate;
to collect intelligence, she reportedly used mechanical cockroaches to eavesdrop at congressional hearings;
rumor had it she once destroyed her own career and revealed the filthiest industry secrets to serve an obscure justice.
After that explosive hearing and a brief retreat, she co-founded this strategy group in 2017, specializing in the most delicate and covert international M&
A and political lobbying.
Some said she was the White House’s youngest strategic adviser;
others whispered she was the illegitimate child of an old political dynasty;
even wilder rumors claimed she wasn’t fighting alone but had a shadowy board behind her.
What was certain was that she had become even more ruthless, even more secretive, and seemingly unbeatable.
Shen Yuyan stared at the screen showing Mrs. Sloan’s cold, intelligent face and inhaled sharply.
She had always idolized and dreamed of the circles tied to "power," "the top," "Wall Street," and the "White House."
Seeing these news items and knowing she was soon headed to New York, she felt a thrill and expectation she had never known.
This was the stage she truly belonged on.
Her mind settled.
She glanced at the clock in the lower-right corner of her computer — Tang Song should by now have arrived in France.
She opened Tang Song’s WeChat chat and typed.
"Boss, considering the time difference, you should have arrived in Nice. I hope the flight went smoothly. Cross-timezone work is exhausting, please rest and don’t overwork."
After sending that impeccably professional message, a sly curve appeared at the corner of her mouth.
She tapped again quickly: "Although it’s only been a day apart, I feel the traces you left on me are already fading."
After sending it, she pressed her phone against her flushed cheek.
Scenes from the night before came unbidden to her mind.
Absurd and thrilling.
"Hope all goes well, dear Tang Song."
.......
France.
Inside the Bombardier Global 7500 cabin, it was tranquil.
"Mr. Tang, we will be commencing.... We will begin descent in about fifteen minutes. Current ground weather is clear with a temperature of 7 degrees Celsius. Welcome to the French Riviera."
A soft English announcement sounded in the cabin bedroom.
Then the window electronic shades and hidden ambient lighting began to slowly simulate moonlight transitioning from deep to bright, accompanied by barely audible white noise.
Tang Song opened his eyes slowly. Hours of deep sleep left him without jetlag fatigue.
In the private bedroom, Lin Muxue had already washed and dressed in a sharp black Chanel suit.
Her makeup was immaculate and precise.
"President Tang, we’re about to arrive."
She said softly, handing him a specially prepared beverage at an appropriate temperature.
"Rehydrate first to help adjust quickly to the time difference."
"Mm, thank you."
At the same time, flight attendant Annie walked over and respectfully handed Tang Song’s neatly pressed cashmere coat to Lin Muxue.
Lin Muxue stepped forward and, practiced and natural, helped him put it on and carefully adjusted his collar.
They returned to the main cabin, settled into the plush seats, and fastened their seatbelts.
The plane shuddered slightly and landed steadily on the most secluded FBO runway at Nice Côte d'Azur Airport.
The cabin door opened.
A gust of sea-salty air mixed with the sharp winter freshness of southern France flowed in.
No bustling passengers, no long jet bridges.
Below the stairs was a scene of power and order.
An armored motorcade—three Maybach S-Class vehicles and five black business cars—waited like silent steel beasts.
Dozens of Shangtang Security Europe special agents in uniform black suits and earpieces lined either side of the stairs, expressions solemn.
At the front of the convoy stood a middle-aged white woman in a bespoke suit, poised and dignified.
When their gazes met, she inclined gracefully and bowed to Tang Song.
Tang Song’s pupils shifted slightly;
her name already flickered through his mind.
Tina Spencer.
A descendant of the Spencer family, one of Europe’s oldest noble houses.
He had seen her figure many times in his memory.
She was also Secretary Jin’s friend and had introduced him into Tang Jin Family Office’s executive committee.
She was responsible for managing the family’s vast global properties and art assets.
An Asian man in a black trench coat hurried forward from the security team and bowed slightly to Tang Song as he descended the stairs.
"Mr. Tang, I’m Alan, head of Shangtang Security’s European division. From now on, my team will be fully responsible for your ground itinerary and security in Europe."
The special agents behind him bowed in unison: "Mr. Tang!"
Tang Song gave a slight nod, his gaze passing over them and landing on Tina who approached with a smile.
"Long time no see, Mr. Tang." Tina appraised this owner whose aura differed from before with measured respect and warmth. "Welcome to the Riviera. The estate has been prepared for you."
"Long time no see, Tina." Tang Song returned the smile.
Lin Muxue followed with, "Hello, Lady Tina."
"Hello, Luna."
After greetings, the FBO executive hurried over to Tang Song with a beaming face to offer his welcome.
After pleasantries,
Tina extended her arm in a gesture meaning "after you": "Mr. Tang, this way please. Let us first handle immigration procedures."
"Mm." Tang Song inclined slightly, his expression calm and deep.
The party entered the private lounge at the airport that is not open to the public.
Two senior border officials wearing high-ranking insignia were already waiting there.
They didn’t even require Tang Song to come forward;
they respectfully approached and produced stamping devices evidently prepared for him.
Passports exchanged hands;
stamps were placed. The whole process took no more than two or three minutes.
Lin Muxue sat beside Tang Song, heart pounding, legs trembling.
Having a senior official from a sovereign nation personally provide service surpassed her boldest imaginings.
The entire immigration procedure was completed in an atmosphere of extreme efficiency and solemn respect.
Sitting beside Tang Song, Lin Muxue felt faintly dizzy.
The top-tier treatment she had just experienced made her so excited she almost needed to pee.
She finally truly understood the meaning behind Tina’s earlier comment on the phone:
"Time should never be wasted waiting for meaningless things."
"Mr. Tang." Tina turned and, in her distinctive accent, asked softly: "After a long flight, you must need to replenish energy. I’ve arranged a light morning meal at our private club in Èze. The view there is excellent. Would you like to stop there for a while or head straight to the estate?"
"Let’s go to the club first." Tang Song answered casually.
In December on the French Riviera, sunrise was after 7:30.
Going now while it was still dark wouldn’t show the estate’s true beauty.
Tang Song didn’t mind waiting.
"Very well."
The motorcade drove steadily away from the airport and wound up the famous Moyenne Corniche coastal road.
About twenty minutes later they stopped in front of a brightly lit building.
This was one of Tang Jin Family Office’s private clubs for top global members—the Sovereign Club.
The club manager and staff waited respectfully at the door.
After a breakfast tailored by a three-Michelin-star chef, the sky began to faintly brighten.
The motorcade resumed.
This time, they turned inland rather than lingering on the coast, entering the rolling hills of Provence.
Soon they entered a private road.
The outline of the estate gradually emerged.
Lin Muxue, wide awake, watched everything through her sparkling eyes.
This was her first time here;
all previous coordination had been online with Tina’s service team.
The scenes that had existed only in blueprints and aerial videos were now, piece by piece, becoming living miracles before her.
The convoy slowed.
Two massive black iron gates, over ten meters high, swung open slowly.
As they entered,
the sun burst from the eastern horizon.
Golden light pierced the thin mist and instantly illuminated the estate.
Tang Song straightened and looked out the window.
A vast, vivid, stunning panorama unfurled—
Olive groves swayed in the breeze, sunlight dappled like flowing silver.
Vineyards rolled with the hills like waves of green and brown.
Large lavender fields, dormant for the season, held a quiet gray-purple under the morning light.
A clear stream trickled down the hills and fed a mirror-like lake in the estate’s center.
Buildings dotted the landscape and came into view.
Chinese-style gardens made from yellow cloud stone and lake rock, with flying eaves and dry rock gardens—serene and elegant.
French classical manor houses with vines climbing century-old stone walls.
Modern minimalist glass residences light enough to seem to float in the air.
Warm-toned Tuscan villas wrapped in grapevines.
...
A series of villas, each of different style yet perfectly integrated with the landscape, passed by like cinematic shots revealing shifting light from different angles.
There was no gaudiness or showiness, only the utmost elegance and luxury.
Finally, the convoy pulled up before a broad, white plaza.
Through the car window, Tang Song saw the main manor building he had only seen on schematic interfaces before.
It wasn’t the heavy, earthy European castle style.
The whole building was constructed from large white tufa blocks and seamless glass, with extremely clean lines, like a futuristic work of art carved into the hill.
Soft golden light seeped from inside, forming a thin halo in the morning mist.
It stood quietly at the end of the plaza.
Like a top-tier art museum.
Security opened the car doors slowly.
Tina stepped forward, keeping a perfectly measured distance.
"Mr. Tang, welcome home."
Tang Song stepped out.
His shoes hit the solid white steps with crisp, decisive sounds.
He turned his head slightly to look back.
Morning light spilled obliquely over the ridge behind him, crossing his shoulder and casting a faint golden rim over his cold, handsome profile.
The undulating mountains, low-hanging mist, silent motorcade, precisely arranged gardens like a chessboard, and the private road stretching into the distance... all lay before him.