Chapter 54 Attending the Banquet

Chapter 54: Attending the Banquet

Less than half an hour after the call ended, the CEO's office door was gently knocked and then pushed open.

Shen Qingci looked up from his documents to see Lu Lin walking in, carrying a large, vivid bouquet of irises.

The petals still bore glistening dewdrops, sparkling with tiny specks of light in the sun.

He only glanced at it once before lowering his gaze back to the papers in his hand, as if the person who walked in was just some unimportant delivery guy.

Lu Lin didn't mind. He found a spot in plain sight and carefully arranged the bouquet.

Then, he walked over to Shen Qingci's desk and knelt on one knee by his leg.

"Brother," he said, reaching out to massage the area around Shen Qingci's right knee with just the right amount of pressure, his movements practiced and his tone cautious, laced with obvious flattery. "I really know I was wrong."

Shen Qingci turned a page, ignoring him.

Lu Lin continued his motions, softening his voice further, with a childlike stubbornness. "I just... couldn't stand that guy. Last time, he used the handshake to touch your hand."

Shen Qingci's page-turning paused so slightly it was barely noticeable.

That was indeed something he detested.

His extreme cleanliness and strong boundaries made him highly averse to physical contact from others. Hill's seemingly casual overstep back then, though he hadn't reacted at the moment, had already put him on Shen Qingci's blacklist.

Seeing that Shen Qingci didn't refute him, a flicker of triumph flashed in Lu Lin's eyes, quickly hidden by his fawning demeanor.

He was about to keep going when the office door was knocked again.

Lin Wei walked in with a stack of documents. She immediately spotted the obvious bouquet on the desk but didn't see the clingy figure. Figuring the flower sender had already left, since Shen Qingci was still buried in his paperwork, she set the files aside and pulled out a beautifully crafted invitation from the top.

"Mr. Shen," she began, "Mr. Wang Chengshun is throwing a private banquet tonight at his hillside villa in the west of the city. An invitation has been sent over."

"I originally thought Mr. Lu might still be around, so I hesitated to mention it in front of him... I wasn't sure if you'd want Mr. Lu to come along. I was planning to report to you after he left, but I didn't expect him to be gone so quickly..."

Her words trailed off as her gaze swept past the side of the desk, and her voice died in her throat.

There was Lu Lin, slowly getting up from under Shen Qingci's desk, brushing off imaginary dust from his knees. He looked up and stared at her with no expression.

Lin Wei's remaining words got stuck in her throat. Her professional smile froze, instantly turning into awkwardness.

"Mr. Lu, you're still here..." she let out a dry laugh, her skin crawling. She instinctively tried to snatch back the invitation she had just placed on the desk.

But Lu Lin was faster.

His slender fingers pressed down on the invite, with just enough force to keep Lin Wei from pulling it away.

Lin Wei let go immediately, like it was a hot potato. Forgetting the other files in her arms, she said quickly, "Well... Mr. Shen, Mr. Lu, you two talk! I'll be going now!"

With that, she practically bolted, even thoughtfully pulling the door shut behind her.

The office fell silent again.

Lu Lin picked up the invite, scanned it, then turned to Shen Qingci.

His expression instantly switched from the coldness he'd shown Lin Wei to one of pitiful grievance, even his eyes reddening slightly, as if he'd been horribly wronged.

"Brother..." he said in a muffled voice, his hand holding the invite seeming weak. "Does Secretary Lin... have something against me? Does she think I'd be a pain if I go with you?"

Shen Qingci watched his masterful, instant mood swing and felt a fresh headache coming on.

He put down his pen and closed his eyes.

"No," he replied curtly, his tone tired.

"Then can we switch assistants?" Lu Lin immediately jumped on the chance, leaning in closer, eyes bright. "Make Secretary Lin my assistant, and I'll trade you Zhou Jin. Zhou Jin's really capable too, and I bet he wouldn't dare gossip about you."

Shen Qingci finally ran out of patience. He lifted his foot, wearing a custom leather shoe, and pressed it down firmly but lightly onto Lu Lin's shiny black leather shoe.

"Get out," he said calmly, but it was clearly a dismissal.

"I don't want to," Lu Lin replied, laughing even after the kick. He even shuffled forward a little, letting Shen Qingci's foot press harder against his. "I'll just wait here till you're off work."

In the end, Lu Lin, of course, stuck around.

By evening, Lin Wei braced herself to deliver the formal wear needed for the banquet. Lu Lin stepped forward directly, personally picking through the several sets of men's suits.

He chose a pure black tuxedo for himself, sharply tailored, with only subtle jacquard patterns at the collar and cuffs—understated yet refined.

Then, he picked up another set and held it up in front of Shen Qingci.

It was a pure white suit, of excellent fabric and smooth lines, forming a stark contrast with Lu Lin's black.

The design details of the two suits subtly echoed each other, especially the fine crystals embedded at the cuffs and lapels, which shimmered with brilliant yet understated light under the chandeliers.

Placed together, anyone would see them as a carefully matched couple's outfit.

"Brother, wear this one," Lu Lin said, handing the white suit to Shen Qingci, his eyes expectant and brooking no refusal.

Shen Qingci glanced at the overly ornate and dazzling white suit, then at Lu Lin's steady black one. After a moment of silence, he said nothing, effectively giving his tacit approval.

At the hillside villa in the west of the city, lights blazed, and the air was filled with the mingling of perfume and chatter.

---

The car stopped at the villa's entrance. A valet stepped forward to open the door.

Lu Lin got out first, about to turn and help Shen Qingci, when his phone suddenly rang.

He glanced at the caller ID, his brow furrowing almost imperceptibly. Then, he said gently to Shen Qingci, who had just steadied himself with his cane, "Brother, it's windy outside. Go on in. I need to take this call; I'll be right there."

Shen Qingci nodded without asking further. Leaning on his cane, he walked steadily toward the brilliantly lit banquet hall.

The moment he stepped inside, it was as if he brought a cooling effect with him.

The lively chatter near the entrance seemed to drop a few decibels.

Several gazes fell on him from different directions.

Some were curious, some appraising, but most were undisguised contempt, mixed with... ill-intentioned scrutiny.

A cripple with a cane, yet possessing a strikingly pure beauty and an aloof, cold temperament.

In this flashy, snobbish circle, that alone made him an easy target for certain individuals' fantasies and amusement.

Shen Qingci seemed oblivious. He lifted his eyes slightly and cast a cold, sidelong glance toward the most blatant gazes.

His look carried no emotion, but it was like a blade dipped in ice—precise and frigid.

The few young men in expensive suits, with a hint of a rakish air, who had been leaning by the drink table, felt a strange chill run down their spines at his look.

Then, realizing they’d been intimidated by a cripple’s gaze, they felt embarrassed and got pissed off.

One of them set down his glass and started heading toward Shen Qingci.

But Shen Qingci had already looked away, as if that glance had been just a quick, careless glance.

Leaning on his cane, he walked inside at a steady, unhurried pace, ignoring the brewing tension around him.

The host of the banquet was Wang Chengshun, the Wang family’s current-generation heir.

Shen Qingci was no stranger to the Wang family; he’d had some business dealings with them before.

He knew a thing or two about this Young Master Wang.

Ten years ago, this guy had openly ogled him with that same slimy, disgusting look.

But back then, he’d been held back by the Shen family’s power and Shen Qingci’s own formidable reputation.

He never thought he’d run into him again after ten years.

He wondered how many people this guy had wrecked in those ten years.

Just as he was thinking this, a familiar, sickening gaze—like a cold, wet snake slithering up his spine—locked onto him from above.

Shen Qingci stopped in the center of the grand hall, beneath the dazzling crystal chandelier, and slowly looked up.

In the shadows of the second-floor mezzanine, a man sat in a wheelchair, holding a glass of red wine, staring down at him over the railing, shameless and without restraint.

A twisted, almost manic grin spread across his face, his gaze like sticky syrup, clinging to Shen Qingci’s face, licking every inch.

Wang Chengshun.

Shen Qingci’s gaze was as cold as polar ice. He stood steady, both hands resting on his black agarwood cane, his silver-white suit gleaming under the lights, almost blending into the chandelier’s glow.

Yet, this fancy outfit didn’t take away from his own glow; instead, it highlighted his ethereal, cold beauty, his presence as aloof as a snow-capped lotus.

He didn’t look away. Instead, he slowly dropped his gaze, finally letting it settle on Wang Chengshun’s legs, covered by a thin blanket, pausing there for a moment.

Then, he raised his eyes again and met the sick, excited gaze from the second floor in a cold stare.

The air seemed to freeze in that instant.

The faint chatter in the hall faded, leaving just a silent standoff and the unsettling, icy atmosphere spreading around them.