Chapter 1 The Award Should Go to Me…

Chapter 1 The Golden Statue Award Ought to Be Mine...

"The Rules of an Aristocratic Lady's Admiration"

By Su Qianqian

March 2025

Hong Kong's mainstream print media, *Gangcheng Daily*, devoted its entire 18th edition page to report a piece of news:

Fu Shengyun, a Hong Kong-born master of calligraphy and painting who had lived abroad for many years, recently returned to Hong Kong accompanied by his children to receive the Gold Bauhinia Star medal awarded by the Hong Kong government. Following the ceremony, an 80th birthday banquet would be held at the Fu family residence.

Fu Shengyun is a legendary figure in Hong Kong Island. His calligraphy style is unique, having inscribed plaques for numerous famous figures and landmarks, earning him extraordinary international renown. In recent years, rumors of Fu Shengyun's declining health had sparked widespread speculation. Now, his sudden public return to celebrate his birthday sent Hong Kong media into a frenzy—Hong Kong was about to witness another top-tier socialite banquet.

On the eve of the banquet, at the Guan family's Kadoorie Hill villa.

A white Bentley Continental GT sped to a stop outside the gate, its interior blaring pulsing funk beats. Guan Yingtang hurriedly stepped out, her jewelry clinking crisply as she moved. Her phone was still pressed to her ear as she removed a pair of oversized silver earrings and said to the person on the other end, "Sorry, I can’t make it tonight. My dad’s back."

Whatever the friend asked in response, Guan Yingtang looked incredulous. "You're insane! How could I possibly marry him?"

With no time for further discussion, Guan Yingtang ended the call in a few words. Seeing the lights on in the house, she steadied herself and walked in.

Whether intentionally or not, the entire villa was brightly lit, like a courtroom under spotlights. The glaringly illuminated hall set off alarm bells for Guan Yingtang.

Sure enough, hearing the commotion, Guan Zhiheng turned from the sofa. He didn’t even need to speak—just a scrutinizing glance was enough to shatter the composure Guan Yingtang had mustered.

After all, just twenty minutes ago, she had told her parents over the phone that she was doing yoga at home. Who could have guessed that her vacationing parents would suddenly return early?

Alerted by the butler, Guan Yingtang had immediately turned around on her way to the party and rushed home at top speed.

"How does yoga end up in a car?" Guan Zhiheng countered pointedly.

Guan Yingtang pointed outside. "It was stuffy, so I went for a drive."

Guan Zhiheng scoffed. "Today is Mandy’s birthday. You wanted to go to her party, didn’t you?"

Guan Yingtang: "..."

Pursing her lips, she had no rebuttal.

As her father, Guan Zhiheng knew his daughter well. Hands tucked into the pockets of his waistcoat, he stood and approached Guan Yingtang, eyeing her slightly daring fashionable outfit. "You're judged by the company you keep. Look at yourself—what kind of image is this?"

Mandy, Guan Yingtang’s friend, was also known as He Zi. Though another daughter of Hong Kong’s elite, Guan Zhiheng held a poor opinion of her. He had repeatedly opposed their friendship, leading to several arguments between father and daughter.

Having undergone heart bypass surgery the previous year, Guan Zhiheng’s health was fragile, and Guan Yingtang had tried her best to accommodate him—like tonight, obediently turning back upon learning of his early return.

"I’m going upstairs to shower," Guan Yingtang said, choosing to avoid conflict.

But Guan Zhiheng was clearly dissatisfied. He called after her, "Yingtang, Mandy’s reputation is no secret—drinking, clubbing, burning through boyfriends. If you keep associating with her, what'll that do to your reputation?"

Guan Yingtang took a deep breath, biting back her words.

Guan Zhiheng pressed on, "All of Hong Kong’s high society is watching you. If people find out you’re mingling with that kind of troublemaker, who will respect you as Hong Kong Island's First Daughter?"

"Mandy isn’t a troublemaker. And besides—" Guan Yingtang couldn’t hold back any longer, "since when do I need others' approval?"

"Of course it matters!" Guan Zhiheng’s eyes flashed with anger. "Our Guan family has been a family of scholars since your great-grandfather’s time. Your grandfather was a justice of the peace and founded *Gangcheng Daily*. I am a board member at several elite schools, with students everywhere. Your uncle—"

"Uncle is a writer and philanthropy ambassador, and all my cousins are public figures and benefactors, right?" Guan Yingtang had long memorized—and grown tired of—the litany of her family’s societal prestige.

"If you know all this, why haven’t you cleaned up your social circle? At 23, you should know who to associate with and who to avoid!"

As the argument threatened to escalate, Mother Huo Ling quickly stepped in to mediate. "A-Tang didn't go after all. She understands."

Changing the subject, Huo Ling patted Guan Yingtang’s hand. "Go to bed early. Tomorrow is Old Master Fu's birthday banquet—you don’t want to show up with dark circles."

After a moment of silence, Guan Yingtang wordlessly went upstairs.

Having just graduated from university the previous year, Guan Yingtang had initially wanted to stay abroad and find work. But Guan Zhiheng had refused, insisting that with the Guan family’s status, their daughter had no need to "work for others."

—"The one and only thing you must do well is to uphold our family’s reputation and perpetuate this intangible legacy."

These words became Guan Yingtang's shackles.

Hong Kong's wealthy families were a dime a dozen—trade, shipping, entertainment, real estate—each industry had its leaders, and every prominent family had its aristocratic ladies. The Guans weren’t the richest, yet Guan Yingtang stood head and shoulders above the rest, crowned as "Hong Kong Island's First Daughter."

A scholarly family, prodigious talent, an aristocratic lady... These were the labels the media attached to Guan Yingtang. Outsiders praised her as Hong Kong's golden girl, and anyone who met her could only marvel at her brilliance. Born into privilege, she carried countless accolades—yet no one knew:

Beneath it all beat a rebellious heart.

-

Despite the previous night’s tension, Guan Yingtang rose early the next day and went through her routine of preparation.

Her styling team was already waiting downstairs, with a row of dresses featuring the predictable Oriental motifs—cheongsam, frog closures, embroidery, silk. Guan Yingtang slumped listlessly at the vanity. "Let’s begin."

The makeup artist studied her reflection. Though she had seen it countless times, she couldn’t help marveling at how such vivid, delicate features could marry innocence with allure.

With infinite potential, it was a pity she was confined to the role of an "aristocratic lady."

"This color again?" Guan Yingtang suddenly asked.

The makeup artist hesitated, holding the peach-toned lipstick. "It... suits Miss Guan’s temperament."

Guan Yingtang’s lips curled inexplicably. Resting her chin on delicate fingers, she countered, "And what temperament is that?"

Her voice lifted playfully, her gaze mesmerizing.

The makeup artist faltered, unsure how to answer. After all, they followed Huo Ling’s instructions to distinguish Guan Yingtang from the label-chasing socialites. Most of her dresses were hand-stitched by master tailors, each stitch embodying perfection.

Over time, the public came to see Guan Yingtang as some celestial being—ethereal and untouchable.

But no one knew she longed to wear backless dresses, get a bombshell blowout, and paint her lips in a siren-red pout.

Everything she desired was off-limits for an "official's daughter."

At 7 p.m., the Guan family car arrived near the Fu residence at Shouson Hill.

-

The Guans had spent over two decades meticulously sculpting their daughter’s image as a cultured lady. From childhood, she was drilled in the arts—music, chess, calligraphy, painting. Her grandfather was acquainted with Fu Shengyun, and at seven, Guan Yingtang had been introduced as his disciple.

But calligraphy held little interest for her. Over the years, she had only learned the basics, keeping the empty title of his "final student."

"Tonight’s guests are all VIPs. You must be at your best—no slip-ups," Guan Zhiheng reminded her as they neared.

Guan Yingtang had this speech memorized. Silently, she regretted missing He Zi’s birthday party.

Then, recalling the question from the phone call, she turned to her parents. "Are you planning for me to marry Jiang Peiming?"

The Jiang and Guan families were old friends. Jiang Peiming and Guan Yingtang had grown up together—childhood playmates.

"Where did you hear such rumors?" Guan Zhiheng categorically denied, but after a pause, he added, "But..."

Guan Yingtang cocked her head slightly, waiting for her father to continue, only to hear him say after a long silence, "At any rate, it wasn’t him."

By then, they had arrived at the entrance of the villa. Rows of luxury cars inched forward, and when the Guan family's car pulled up to the door, a concierge politely held the door open for them.

Guan Yingtang had to quickly adjust her expression.

Though they had just been discussing another topic, the moment the car door opened and her high heels touched the ground, she seamlessly shifted into her public demeanor.

Tonight, the stylist had chosen a sage green Chinese-style qipao for her. With her hair elegantly coiled, her gaze demurely lowered, and her makeup understated yet delicate, she looked like a beauty straight out of classical poetry—every move poised and elegant.

From a distance, onlookers would cluster together, murmuring praises—Hong Kong Island's First Daughter truly had a presence like no other. Understated yet elegant, her intellect seemed to radiate from within, making her a living tableau at the banquet.

"Isn't Miss Guan a graduate of a prestigious university?"

"She's a true scholar, a top student from Stanford."

"Beautiful and highly educated—no wonder all the high-society matriarchs see her as the ideal daughter-in-law."

"Exactly. Look how many men are vying for her attention tonight."

...

Thanks to Fu Shengyun's reputation, the event was packed with the crème de la crème, and thus, more men than usual lingered around Guan Yingtang. Though inwardly weary, she had no choice but to keep up appearances for the sake of politeness.

Her image was too perfect, her behavior too impeccable—forced to play the role of elegance in this world of fame and fortune.

Only when she had enough of the charade did Guan Yingtang excuse herself to the restroom, sneaking off from the main hall.

She quietly made her way to the second-floor balcony. Minutes later, He Zi followed with a wine glass in hand.

"What, not enjoying yourself downstairs?"

The He family had also been invited tonight. The two friends had exchanged knowing glances earlier and now seized the chance to sneak away for a chat.

Guan Yingtang leaned against the balcony railing, her tone weary. "Just a room full of fakes. What's fun about that?"

Since returning home a year ago, her life had been a relentless cycle of banquets and cultural events, all to flaunt the well-bred sophistication expected of an official's daughter.

She was utterly exhausted from playing the part of the poised aristocratic lady.

"Boring indeed," He Zi agreed, lighting a thin cigarette. "Same old crowd, same old games. That's why I'm flying out tomorrow—gonna find some tiny island and soak up the sun with a few hot locals."

"..." Guan Yingtang stared at her in shock.

He Zi sighed under her gaze. "Alright, alright. Truth is, I had a fight with the old man today. Best to stay out of his sight for a while."

He Zi had always lived by her own rules. Though sometimes misunderstood as reckless, she never cared for others' opinions, doing exactly as she pleased.

Guan Yingtang, on the other hand—

All these years, she had toed the line as the aristocratic lady, never daring to step out of line. The only "rebellion" in her life had been during her studies abroad, when, emboldened by the anonymity of a foreign country, she once wore a glittery mini to a Christmas Eve yacht party with classmates, reveling until dawn.

She didn’t even remember whose yacht it was, but that night had been the most carefree and uninhibited of her life.

"Lucky you," Guan Yingtang murmured unconsciously, her shoulders slumping slightly as she gazed into the distant night—

She wanted to escape too.

Take a break from this charade and go somewhere where few know me, just to catch my breath.

Distracted, He Zi suddenly nudged her arm, "Who's that?"

Guan Yingtang followed her gaze. Three black cars were slicing through the night, slowly pulling into the Fu family estate. Not far away, Fu Shengyun's eldest son was already waiting on the lawn steps with his family to greet them.

The cars came to a stop in order, and the attendants respectfully opened the doors. A group of people filed out one by one.

Leading the group was a poised middle-aged couple. After shaking hands with them, Fu Shengyun’s eldest son turned to the young man following behind the couple.

Dressed in a black suit, though his face wasn’t clearly visible, his tall, elegant frame radiated nobility. Every gesture was deliberate and polished.

"No idea," Guan Yingtang glanced over, uninterested in which up-and-comer had arrived late. But within seconds, she looked back again—

"But he’s not bad," she remarked, high praise from her.

Her phone suddenly rang—Huo Ling was calling, saying some guests had arrived and she needed to return to socialize.

Her break cut short, Guan Yingtang sighed, muttering self-deprecatingly as she walked, "They should really give me an Oscar for this."

-

Back inside, the banquet was still lively. The heady scent of wine wafted from crystal glasses as guests toasted and chatted. Though everyone kept up their polite chatter, their eyes kept drifting toward the entrance, as if waiting for someone important.

Guan Zhiheng and Huo Ling were chatting with tonight’s host, Fu Shengyun. Seeing Guan Yingtang return, Guan Zhiheng smiled warmly and beckoned, "Yingtang, come wish Elder Fu a happy birthday."

Guan Yingtang stepped forward respectfully and embraced Fu Shengyun. "Happy birthday, Teacher."

"Good girl," Fu Shengyun nodded, studying her before turning to Guan Zhiheng. "She’s perfect."

Guan Zhiheng chuckled knowingly. "If you say so, Elder Fu, then it must be true."

Their vague exchange, coupled with Huo Ling’s faintly enigmatic smile, made Guan Yingtang suspicious. "What are you all talking about?" she asked.

Fu Shengyun cleared his throat pointedly. "A very important guest is arriving soon. Coincidentally, he’s also a Stanford graduate like you. Could you help me entertain him?"

The three of them were acting mysteriously, making Guan Yingtang think it was something major—only to find out it was just entertaining a guest.

"Of course," she agreed readily.

No sooner had she spoken than the doors behind her swung open. Noticing the crowd’s gazes turning, Guan Yingtang followed suit and turned around.

"Speak of the devil," Fu Shengyun said, stepping forward. "Come, Yingtang."

Without much thought, she followed, quietly asking her mother along the way, "A last-minute addition?"

To ensure Guan Yingtang’s flawless performance, Huo Ling always had someone compile guest profiles for her to review beforehand. Tonight was no exception.

Yet, Guan Yingtang had gone through all the profiles and found no mention of a fellow Stanford alum.

Huo Ling hesitated, though her lips curled with approval. "You could say that."

The guests seemed to have been eagerly waiting, parting like the Red Sea to make way for the latecomer. When the last obstructing figure moved aside, Guan Yingtang finally saw clearly—

No—

She knew him instantly.

If the brief glimpse from the balcony had only hinted at his striking presence, standing face-to-face now, Guan Yingtang felt his aura even more intensely—completely different from the men who had surrounded her earlier.

His bone structure was refined, his brow carrying an air of detached calm, like pristine snow—regal, aloof, and out of reach.

Their gazes locked.

A low whisper came from Huo Ling beside her, "This is Mr. Meng Qinghuai, the CEO of Yawan Group and your Stanford alumnus, three years your senior."

No one knew that Guan Yingtang's carefully cultivated perfect facade had, in that second, faltered momentarily.

Meng Qinghuai?

—A name that was legendary in their alma mater, a name she knew well.