Chapter Thirteen: The Turmoil at the Banquet

The Regent Hotel gleamed with opulence, its entrance lined with luxury cars. Cheng Ziqiu stood at the doorway, watching the elegantly dressed men and women bustling in and out, unable to suppress a pang of awe.

The world of the wealthy was truly extravagantly decadent.

Feigning a casual cough, Cheng Ziqiu strode forward with an air of indifference straight toward the hotel’s grand doors.

However, as soon as he reached the lobby, hotel staff blocked his path.

One manager sized him up condescendingly, a sneer escaping his nostrils.

“Sir, are you here for the birthday banquet? Do you have an invitation?”

“Birthday banquet?” Cheng Ziqiu raised an eyebrow.

“What a coincidence—I’m here for Mr. Chen’s birthday celebration.”

The manager scrutinized him from head to toe.

A cheap suit, knockoff leather shoes—his entire ensemble probably cost less than five hundred yuan.

With such a shabby appearance, daring to claim he was attending Chen’s banquet? Surely just a freeloader.

A flicker of disdain crossed the waiter’s eyes as he prepared to retort.

Suddenly, a gilded invitation card arced gracefully through the air and slapped the waiter’s chest, as if smacking his face.

Startled, the waiter looked down at the embossed card.

The four prominent characters “Chen Family Birthday Banquet” stood out vividly.

His expression instantly shifted, flipping through emotions faster than one could turn a page. Bowing profusely, he forced a smile.

“So it’s an honored guest! My apologies—please, right this way!”

Cheng Ziqiu’s lips curled into a smirk as he snatched back the invitation and leisurely stuffed it into his pocket.

“I preferred your rebellious attitude just now,” he said with a half-smile, patting the waiter’s shoulder before swaggering into the banquet hall.

The waiter stood frozen, his face fluctuating between green and white.

He glared fiercely at Cheng Ziqiu’s departing figure, muttering under his breath: “Such a poor pretender, acting all high and mighty...”

***

Inside the banquet hall, dazzling lights illuminated the scene, fragrant perfumes mingling with the subtle rustle of silk and the shimmer of jewels.

Cheng Ziqiu surveyed the surroundings, realizing it was nothing short of a grand display of pretentiousness.

Men donned tailored suits, their conversation dripping with the confidence of self-made tycoons.

Women wore stunning gowns, adorned with pearls and jewels, each vying to outshine the others.

Cheng Ziqiu curled his lip disdainfully.

A bunch of rustic bumpkins—no matter how polished their appearance, their vulgarity seeped from their very bones.

He found a corner to settle in, grabbing pastries from the table and stuffing them into his mouth.

“Hmm, not bad, just a bit too sweet,” he mused, half-listening to a group of men bragging nearby.

“This piece I specifically hunted down at the antique market—an official kiln treasure from the Qianlong era. Anyone with an eye knows it’s priceless!”

One portly man with a beer belly and a heavy gold chain draped around his neck babbled excitedly, cradling a blue-and-white porcelain vase as if it were a rare gem.

Another tall, thin man sneered with contempt and slowly unfurled a scroll from his coat.

“Qianlong porcelain? That’s nothing. Look at this calligraphy—it’s an authentic piece by Tang Bohu! The brushwork, the ink’s charm—tsk, ordinary folk wouldn’t appreciate it.”

Cheng Ziqiu nearly choked on his pastry.

Tang Bohu? That crooked scrawl might as well be a child’s doodle!

And that Qianlong official kiln? He’d seen identical ones sold for fifty yuan for three on street stalls.

The two men boasted shamelessly, oblivious to anyone else.

Those around them cast admiring glances, occasionally murmuring in awe.

“You two are truly generous! Miss Chen is so fortunate to have brothers who care about her this much!”

A greasy middle-aged man sidled up with a sycophantic grin.

“Not at all, it’s only right,” said the beer-bellied man, waving his hand with feigned modesty, though pride bloomed unmistakably on his face.

“Sigh, my sister just doesn’t get it. She insists on live streaming all day, showing off like that—it’s disgraceful!”

The tall, thin man sighed heavily, eyes filled with frustration.

“Old master’s birthday, and she’s the last to arrive. Instead, she’s out there goofing off online with her fans.”

“Exactly. What can streaming bring you? It’s just a small-time hustle. We industrialists make money faster.”

The beer-bellied man chimed in.

“I’ve told her countless times to quit and come back to help run the company, but she won’t listen.”

“Sigh, young people these days are just too restless.”

“Unlike us back then—steady, practical, step by step…”

Hearing their disparagement of Chen Churan, Cheng Ziqiu’s mood soured.

Though he and Chen Churan had only a professional relationship, he wouldn’t tolerate others speaking ill of her.

“Gentlemen, you shouldn’t speak like that. The live streaming industry is booming, and Miss Chen becoming a top streamer shows her talent.”

Cheng Ziqiu retorted calmly.

“Hmph, no matter how popular streaming is, can it compare to us industrialists?” the beer-bellied man sneered.

“Right, streaming is just a youth’s game. How long can you last? Unlike us, who can do this for a lifetime!”

The tall man agreed.

Cheng Ziqiu snorted, about to counter again.

Suddenly, the grand doors of the banquet hall swung open.

A statuesque woman in a red evening gown entered, her beauty breathtaking.

It was Chen Churan.

Her arrival instantly drew every gaze.

The men stared openly, while the women cast looks ranging from envy to jealousy.

“Oh, isn’t this the big internet celebrity Chen Churan? Finally decided to leave the livestream room?”

“Yeah, old master’s birthday, and she’s the last to show—what an attitude!”

“She’s making a fortune these days, no need to care about small business folk like us.”

Though whispered quietly, their words were loud enough for Chen Churan to hear.

Her expression flickered briefly, but she quickly regained composure, donning a professional smile as she gracefully approached the head table.

“Dad, happy birthday!”

Chen Churan bowed respectfully before a spirited elderly man.

Chen’s father, Chen Jiwang, smiled kindly.

“Churan’s here, come sit.”

As she took her seat, her two “loving” brothers immediately clustered around.

“Sis, why so late? The old master’s been waiting for some time.”

The beer-bellied man feigned concern.

“Right, streaming’s important, but family matters come first.”

The tall man added, a sharp glint in his eyes.

“Had some urgent business at the company, sorry for the delay,” Chen Churan explained calmly.

“Understandable, business is tough these days,” the beer-bellied man chuckled, though inside he plotted how to squeeze money from her.

Cheng Ziqiu observed coldly from his corner.

He could see Chen Churan disliked these people, yet forced a smile to navigate their hollow niceties.

From her exquisite Louis Vuitton handbag, Chen Churan produced a brocade box.

Opening it revealed a smooth jade pendant, emitting a gentle glow.

It was the very piece Cheng Ziqiu had helped her “score” earlier.

“Dad, wishing you blessings as vast as the East Sea and longevity like the Southern Mountains.”

Chen Churan presented the jade with both hands, her smile composed.

Chen Jiwang took the pendant, examining it closely with evident fondness.

“A fine item, indeed! The jade, the craftsmanship—it’s clearly an antique!”

The beer-bellied and tall brothers’ faces darkened instantly.

If this old trinket was valuable, their schemes would be ruined.

“Dad, this thing looks ordinary at best, like something from a street vendor,” scoffed the beer-bellied eldest brother, Chen Jianguo, his plump face full of disdain.

“Antiques are faked so well these days, don’t let the old master be fooled.”

“Exactly, Dad,” the tall second brother Chen Jianjun chimed in sarcastically.

“In this day and age, the world is full of cheats. Be careful. Sis, spending so much on a fake—it’s just wasted money.”