Rules of Civility - Chapter 12

The rain had stopped.

As Shao Yiqing stepped out of the restaurant, the eager paparazzi refused to let even him go, wildly snapping photos of him as if he were one of Sheng Tingzhou’s romantic connections. Shao Yiqing had long since grown immune to the camera lenses, nor did he ever mess with anyone’s livelihood over such matters. No matter how the tabloid rumors were written, he never came forward to issue clarifications.

He exited the restaurant, standing beneath the entrance archway of Longjiang Pavilion, his slender frame silently gazing into the pitch-black night.

Deng Su quickly followed behind him. The violent wind pushed against his chest, and with a furrowed brow, Deng Su hurried to Shao Yiqing’s side, draping a heavy overcoat over his shoulders.

“Didn’t negotiate successfully?” Deng Su pulled his fingertips back. Standing beside Shao Yiqing in the wind, amidst flying strands of hair, he caught sight of his boss’s less-than-pleased expression.

“Xu Wenhui played me. He was in cahoots with that surname Sheng all along, turning me into a lobbyist,” Shao Yiqing lowered his head to fasten the belt of his overcoat, speaking without any detectable emotion. “Wasn’t Jiachuang supposed to be the one getting acquired? Why make me crawl and beg people to spare Lingrui? I don’t have that kind of low posture, and even if I did, it wouldn’t be used on something like this.”

Deng Su’s expression turned solemn. “Then let’s stop helping them. Lingrui brought this on itself. A new era is coming, and staying on good terms with the Sheng family certainly won’t do us any harm.”

Shao Yiqing lifted his eyes and looked at Deng Su.

Deng Su suddenly felt a twinge of insecurity in his heart, unaware of which word he had spoken amiss. No one could withstand Shao Yiqing’s gaze, whether it was an inquiry for accountability or anything else.

“W-what is it?”

“You just said the exact same thing that person said,” Shao Yiqing slid his hands into his coat pockets. The sky had grown dark while lively activities still buzzed inside. Thinking of that man’s face, an involuntary, helpless smile crept up his lips. “Even the tone is identical. A new era is coming, it seems everyone knows Xiangjiang is about to change.”

Shao Yiqing lifted his footsteps and walked down the stairs.

Deng Su was dazed for a brief moment before following behind Shao Yiqing. The two boarded the car, returning empty-handed tonight.

Making others linger and ponder over him after parting ways was Shao Yiqing’s specialty. This time, he had played the role of someone else instead, with Sheng Tingzhou’s face repeatedly flashing through his mind, majestic and stern, shrewd and ruthless. No wonder Sheng Hang was willing to step down; with a son like that, Shao Yiqing could also willingly distance himself from worldly disputes and enjoy peace behind the scenes.

Comparing people only leads to frustration. Thinking of the good-for-nothing bastard he had birthed, Shao Yiqing’s expression turned deeply troubled as he asked, “Is Pengpeng coming back this week?”

His own son refused to contact him, and whether he returned or not was entirely communicated through his personal driver. Shao Yiqing thought that as a father, being reduced to this state truly made him a failure.

“I sent him a message, but he didn’t reply,” Deng Su gripped the steering wheel, looking at Shao Yiqing’s face in the rearview mirror. “Or perhaps President Shao, you could call him and ask?”

It was a suggestion that shouldn’t have been rejected, yet Shao Yiqing refused without a second thought.

“You call him tomorrow,” Shao Yiqing glanced at the time. “It’s so late, hearing my voice might keep him from sleeping.”

“You two are still father and son after all…”

Shao Yiqing let out a cold laugh. “Father and son? The only father in his eyes is not the bitch who carried him in her womb for ten months.”

“President Shao…”

Deng Su furrowed his brow, the atmosphere inside the car turning ice-cold as he recalled the argument between Shao Yiqing and his son two months ago.

“Shao Yiqing, you’re just a bitch who deserves to be fucked by everyone! How could my dad ever meet someone like you!”

Back then, Deng Su had been standing outside, hearing those harsh, abusive words, and with a hardened heart, he burst into the room just in time to see Shao Yiqing deliver a slap across his son’s face.

It had been two months since then, and Shao Peng hadn’t returned even once.

Judging by Shao Yiqing’s temper, the two of them likely had no phone communication in private either. Deng Su found it inconvenient to meddle in this rigid father-son relationship, so he could only step in to contact Shao Peng on Shao Yiqing’s behalf.

“I will call him,” Deng Su said gently. “He hasn’t been back for so long, Pengpeng probably misses home too.”

A sarcastic chuckle came from the back seat. Shao Yiqing said nothing, instead leaning against the window and gazing out into the dark night, lost in thought.

Deng Su wanted to say something, but felt it inappropriate; comforting words choked up in his throat. What didn’t a shrewd person like Shao Yiqing know? What didn’t he understand in his heart? Hitting a snag wasn’t a rare occurrence either, so Deng Su thought better of it and closed his mouth.

In this world, probably only a parent-child relationship could cause Shao Yiqing to wear this kind of expression.

Perhaps God was truly fair. He favored Shao Yiqing, bestowing upon him a fine figure, beauty, and capability, using family harmony as the price.

Clearly the people who ought to be closest were separated by a distant chasm.

The design for the Bali Resort Hotel commenced after a gap of one month.

Wei Zhixia, who was in charge of the project, was called into the office early in the morning.

Shao Yiqing sat on the sofa by the window, holding a tablet in his hands as he viewed the panoramic design of the 3D model room.

Wei Zhixia reported to him, “Basically, they are satisfied. Xiao Ding and I went for a field inspection, and we implemented all the feasible designs. The sky garden and the swimming pool area are the key highlights, and the clients have nodded in agreement. The only issue is the hotel interior; they have quite a few requests. I will make another trip this afternoon to follow up.”

“What kind of style do they want?” Shao Yiqing asked.

“The kind we did for Binji,” Wei Zhixia replied. “However, that design was bought out at a high price, so we can’t make an identical one. The Meteor Pavilion is exclusive to Binji. The client said they can pay extra, so I told them to negotiate with Binji’s person in charge. That matter doesn’t fall under our purview.”

Buying out a design was common, but buying out interior residential design was rare. Ordinary people didn’t care whether two rooms looked identical; they prioritized their living experience. However, this partner was a star-rated hotel within a tourist resort area, and both Binji and Haiyue were luxury hotels in Bali with a competitive relationship. Binji’s Meteor Pavilion Design focused on a one-of-a-kind world experience, attracting numerous patrons. To this day, it remained online, praised by many visiting travelers as one of the top ten most awesome hotel designs.

“Although it doesn’t fall under our purview, you’d better go with him,” Shao Yiqing’s fingertip glided across the screen. “Act as a middleman to introduce them, be considerate. If this big-ticket partner has future projects, they might come directly to you. Cling to this cash cow, learn to be sharper around clients, it’ll benefit you in the long run.”

“I know that,” Wei Zhixia chuckled. “I’ll make this trip personally and make sure the other party is satisfied.”

The vibration of a phone rang. Shao Yiqing answered the call, and Wei Zhixia gave a soft acknowledgment before Shao Yiqing waved a hand to dismiss him.

“Speak,” Shao Yiqing said into the phone, his tone less than gentle.

An energized voice burst from the earpiece: “Yiqing! What have you been up to lately? I never get to see you.”

“Surname Qin, what kind of nerve are you acting up again?”

“Whose acting up? You didn’t reply to any of my messages, what is the meaning of this, Shao Yiqing? When you were right here you shared drinks and merriment with me, and the moment you’re gone for a day you don’t even bother pretending to be polite anymore?”

“I’ve been too busy lately, no spare time to deal with you.” A message popped up in his work WeChat, and Shao Yiqing checked it, it was regarding the Bali project, with his subordinates seeking his approval. Shao Yiqing replied while saying, “The Bali project started these past two days, I might have to take a trip there.”

“Can’t you just send your subordinates?”

“It’s different,” Shao Yiqing said. “You wouldn’t understand. We’ll talk when I get back, that’s all for now, I’m busy.”

Shao Yiqing hung up the phone.

He tossed his phone aside and glanced at the data for Bali. This island imbued with Little Bali charm was a hot spot for vacations every single year. Wei Zhixia was solely in charge of this project and couldn’t afford a single slip-up, sending a message to Shao Yiqing because there were still finer details that needed discussion, but the person was already out of the company.

Shao Yiqing was meticulous when it came to official business; the design industry tolerated no carelessness. Back when he founded Jiachuang, he was merely a behind-the-scenes staff member who didn’t need to show his face for field operations or client networking, handling billing cash flows and internal company details all impeccably.

His subordinates held deep respect mixed with yearning for him. Employees falling in love with their boss happened every day at Jiachuang. What hadn’t Shao Yiqing experienced? Normal people and crazy folks jumping off buildings or self-harming for him were sights he had thoroughly enjoyed in his youth, though people around him had reined it in slightly over the past two years, perhaps knowing they couldn’t cross the class divide, or perhaps because he, Shao Yiqing, was no longer in his prime years.

Shao Yiqing didn’t feel sentimental; he was completely self-contained. Being in one’s teens had its flamboyant flair, and being in thirties had its graceful poise. He never engaged in idle sentimentality.

The phone vibrated once more.

Without even looking, Shao Yiqing directly answered the call, assuming that guy surnamed Qin was harassing him again, and said ungraciously, “What is it now?”

The person on the other end spoke a sentence, causing Shao Yiqing’s hand movements to pause. He glanced at his phone, then halted all work at hand, asking with intrigue, “Why would you call?”

“I’m fulfilling the promise I made to you,” Xu Mingfu said on the other end of the line.

Shao Yiqing furrowed his brow and asked, “What?”

Xu Mingfu said, “Didn’t we agree on it?”

Shao Yiqing hadn’t paid any more attention to this matter. Naturally, for a failed endeavor, he wouldn’t demand compensation from Xu Mingfu, but this phone call from Xu Mingfu completely baffled him. Pausing for a moment, Shao Yiqing asked, “The signing ceremony has been postponed?”

Xu Mingfu fell silent on the other end for a moment, likely questioning something, before finally saying, “Wasn’t this something you negotiated? Why use such a clueless tone, President Shao?”

Shao Yiqing glanced out the window. The scorching sun blazed high, offering an unobstructed view of half of Xiangjiang from the twentieth floor. He took a moment to process the information, starting to piece things together in his mind.

Yet there was no logically sound explanation.

At that moment, the person on the other end of the phone was already eager to distance himself from the situation.

“Where is it booked?” Xu Mingfu asked with a do-or-die tone. “I’m coming over right now.”

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