Chapter 5: Midnight Snack

Having eaten practically nothing all evening, Richard suddenly felt his stomach rumbling on the drive back to his apartment. Even at this late hour, both sides of the West District streets were blazing with neon lights, lined with Hong Kong-style *cha chaan tengs*, Chaoshan snack shops, and Taiwanese night-market stalls, their glowing signs glaringly bright.

Richard casually parked his car in front of one of the eateries. Through his side mirror, he noticed a red Volvo S40 cut in at an angle, sliding smoothly into a spot with a single swift maneuver, the car aligning perfectly and pulling right up against the curb—a display of expert driving.

Starving and paying no attention to her surroundings, Victoria walked straight inside.

It was an old, well-established Taiwanese pie-and-congee shop that had been in Shanghai for years, boasting a massive regular clientele. Even at midnight, the dining hall was still bustling with noise and excitement. At a round table right in the middle of the room, the owner and his entire family were gathered, their loud, accented Taiwanese Mandarin carrying across the space.

"Victoria! What brings you here?" The owner's wife suddenly spotted Victoria eating quietly in the corner, her voice filled with pleasant surprise.

"Just grabbing a midnight snack before heading home."

"Always by yourself. Sigh, just yesterday I was betting with my husband on when we'd ever see you walk in here with a guy."

Victoria gave a faint smile, her gaze sweeping over the owner sitting nearby, whose broad, square face broke into an exaggerated grin as he nodded at her.

*Relax, your wife and I are barely acquaintances.* Amused, Victoria put down her chopsticks and stood up. "I'm done. Pack two beef pies to go, please, thank you."

The moment she stood up, a young waitress hurried over, handing her a steaming hot bag. "We already had them ready, Ms. Victoria. Be careful, they're hot."

Glancing over casually, Victoria slipped back into her coat—a beige, double-breasted, military-style trench that suited her impeccably. *This woman radiates absolute authority wherever she goes,* Richard thought to himself as he walked back outside, climbed into his car, and turned the ignition. The street was mostly empty now, the curbs packed with vehicles belonging to nocturnal creatures hunting for a midnight meal. Just as he shifted into gear to pull out, someone tapped on his passenger window.

Startled, he turned his head to find a grimy, soot-stained little girl with two small braids peering through the glass, saying something to him.

*Why did she run up right as I was pulling away? That's way too dangerous.* Such a young child, working out here in the middle of the night—he instinctively reached for the loose change resting in his center console cup holder.

Just as he reached to press the window button, the child suddenly turned and ran off. Following her line of sight, he saw someone calling out to her from the entrance of the restaurant.

*Wait... is that her?*

The imposing Victoria—the Queen-tier Victoria, the woman who made heavy-hitting corporate executives break out in cold sweat at the mere sight of her—was standing outside a restaurant at midnight, crouching right there on the pavement, holding open a paper bag and smiling warmly as she coaxed a begging little child...

With his car still angled toward the road and his foot pressed firmly on the brake, Richard froze in disbelief.

"Are you still out this late?" came a remarkably soft voice.

"Eat slowly, it's very hot. Don't be afraid, I'll wait right here until you finish." Watching with patient eyes as the child wolfed down the food, Victoria cast a sweeping glance toward the dark alleyway beside them.

Giving money was useless; those wretched adults lurking behind the scenes would snatch it away in a heartbeat. Even this food had to be eaten right under her watchful eye, or it would never make it into the child's stomach. The reality of it all was raw, cruel, and freezing cold. The most she could do was watch the little girl finish two small pies.

The restaurant's sign blazed bright and large, rings of colored light bulbs flashing in sequence, casting a glow far into the dark night. She crouched there for a long time, the hem of her trench coat trailing slightly onto the dust-covered paving bricks, completely oblivious to it all.

She simply kept her head bowed, focusing intently on the dirty little girl eating her meal, her expression remarkably gentle. Once the child was finished, she carefully took the empty paper bag back, walked over to the curb, and tossed it into a trash can.

With that done, Victoria walked back toward her car with effortless poise. Little did she know that a man in the car right next to hers had been watching her intently for a long time. And even less did she know that starting today, her life was about to take a dramatic turn—heading down a path vastly different from anything she had ever imagined.

*Vastly different*—a distance so immense that even the legendary Monkey King would need to catch his breath just thinking about it.

Chapter 6: The Unplanned Inquiry

That night, Richard suffered from insomnia. Of course, he wasn't the kind of raw, uninitiated male who would stay up all night pining or get all worked up just because he laid eyes on an attractive woman—*wait, typing that out made him sweat a little; wonder if it'll get censored by the web police.*

By the time he actually fell asleep, it was already past midnight. He had spent the majority of the post-midnight hours plotting how to handle that stubborn little Japanese negotiator, Yamada. It wasn't until dawn broke that he finally closed his eyes for a brief nap. Yet even in that short window, his brain somehow started calculating the theoretical compatibility between himself and a certain woman.

Years of high-pressure training had taught him how to function on just an hour or two of sleep, but his brain had simply overworked itself this time, and he couldn't quite snap out of it. By the time he got up, his head was still a total mess, prompting him to chug black coffee the moment he walked into his office. Downing the mug, he scanned the stack of documents on his desk and handed the empty cup straight to his secretary standing nearby. "Get me another refill, no sugar."

Daisy cautiously gauged her boss's expression and was about to turn away when he stopped her. "Hold on. Look up the address and phone number of a law firm for me."

The best way to cure a messy mind was to cut through the confusion with decisive action; his style had always been brutally straightforward.

"Ah? Mr. Richard, do you have a name for it?"

"I have the name of an attorney. Her name is Victoria."

"How do you spell it in Chinese?"

*How do you write it in Chinese?* Now that was a tough question. He was a banana—fluent enough in spoken Chinese, but reading and writing... *Truly, you only realize how little you know when you actually need to write.*

"Would you like me to look it up and leave it on your desk?" Why was she getting dragged into such a tedious puzzle so early in the morning? Touching upon his sore spot, his eyes narrowed.

When Daisy stepped out of the office, she leaned back against the door panel, letting out a sharp gasp of air. Outside, everyone was craning their necks with anxious, hopeful looks, but the moment they saw her expression, their faces completely fell.

*It's over. Looks like Mr. Richard is really pissed this time.*

And he *was* somewhat annoyed. Between the insomnia and morning grouchiness, the moment Yamada stepped into the boardroom, Richard started smiling—a flash of white teeth gleaming, causing Manager Sun beside him to wipe away sweat continuously. By the time the meeting wrapped up, everyone's legs felt a bit shaky, forcing Richard to good-naturedly reach out and grab Yamada by the arm. "Mr. Yamada, to celebrate our continued pleasant cooperation, let's grab a casual bite together."

*Please, no.* Yamada just wanted to escape and lick his wounds. Standing a full head shorter, Yamada looked up with a bitter, strained expression under Richard's towering gaze. "Mr. Richard, let's skip it for today. We can host a banquet to invite your company another day—"

"That simply won't do. You know how little time I have in Shanghai. Since today went so wonderfully, Mr. Yamada simply must honor me with his presence."

Yamada was left speechless while everyone else bowed their heads in silent mourning: *When this guy smiles at you, you don't dare refuse the honor.*

In the car, he received a call from Daisy. "Mr. Richard, I've forwarded the address and phone number of Attorney Victoria's firm to both your email and your phone. It's located right next to the restaurant we booked for tonight, so you should be able to see it when you head over for dinner."

*Got it. Perfect.* She even sent both Chinese and English versions—this little secretary was truly a quick learner. Satisfied, he smiled, prompting Vice President Li, who was sitting beside him, to ask with burning curiosity, "Richard, what's got you in such a good mood?"

Glancing over at the Toyota Crown trailing behind them, Richard reached out and patted Li's shoulder. "We just successfully fended off an economic invasion. Isn't that cause for celebration?"

*Sweat droplets.* *We're a multinational corporation, okay? Besides, you're not even a genuine local—what's with this bizarre overseas-Chinese patriotism?*

Chapter 7: The Confrontation

The dinner was held at an upscale official-cuisine restaurant. The private dining room was resplendent, its curtains patterned with golden embroidery, and spotlights glaring against the gold rims of the plates. One had to keep their head at just the right angle, or the reflection would easily dazzle the eyes.

With the curtains drawn back to offer a 270-degree view, the scenery swept from the bustling streetscape down to the sheer, striking side of the adjacent building. Located among a complex of high-rises, the restaurant provided a bird's-eye view of the narrow alleyway wedged between two structures, its sides completely packed with parked cars.

Halfway through the meal, Richard stood up and announced his departure. "Apologies, I just remembered an urgent matter. Please, everyone, continue enjoying yourselves. Vice President Li, make sure Mr. Yamada is well-vetted and entertained."

*What?* Everyone stared in blank astonishment.

He left with decisive swiftness, pausing at the door to issue one last instruction to the attendant. "Miss, please draw the curtains."

Downstairs, just as he reached the ground floor, he spotted her walking toward her vehicle—a vibrant red Volvo S40. The wind whistling between the high-rises caught the hem of her beige trench coat, billowing it out like an umbrella and revealing her well-proportioned, slender legs above a pair of sleek, minimalist brown high heels.

*Ah, among all the corporate worker bees scurrying about, she truly stood out like a crane among chickens.* He suddenly felt a bit like a seventeen-year-old boy waiting outside the gates of a private high school for the girl of his dreams, watching her stride out from afar, tossing her hair back as his heart did a sudden flip.

*What should I do? Just walk right up and call out to her?*

*"Excuse me, miss, I'm quite taken with you. Would you care to join me for a cup of coffee?"*

*In China, people would probably call that a total scumbag move.* He silently condemned himself.

While he hesitated, she reached her car. The narrow lane was jammed with vehicles, though pedestrians were relatively sparse. Suddenly, out of the deep, shadowed mouth of an alleyway, a heavy-set man lunged forward without warning, screaming curses at her in furious Shanghainese.

It was as if an alien legion had suddenly invaded the desolate surface of the moon; a crowd of curious onlookers materialized from thin air within a single second, sealing off the area into an impenetrable wall. Unable to see what was happening, Richard rushed forward. Moving too fast, he nearly collided with a sharply turning taxi, planting his hands against its hood as a sharp *"Shit!"* slipped past his lips.

As he shoved his way through the crowd, someone barked at him in dialect, *"Zhu sa, biao za!"* ("Hey, watch it, don't shove!")

Anxious and flustered, he let loose a string of English profanities.

Only when he finally broke through did he understand why everyone was in such an uproar. The man was sprawled on the ground, limbs twitching. Victoria stood towering over him, one hand calmly holding a phone pressed to her ear with an expression of supreme annoyance, tapping her foot lightly against the pavement. In her other hand, she held a slender, rod-like object that made Richard swallow hard.

*Was that... a portable stun gun?* He suddenly felt immensely grateful that he hadn't recklessly tried to chat her up earlier.

A piercing, frantic wail rang out, making Richard want to turn around and grab the noise-maker by the neck. Another blur of motion caught his eye: a disheveled woman in a bathrobe burst into the center of the circle, screaming heartrendingly as she shoved violently at Victoria.

"It's all your fault, you bitch! Now my husband really wants to divorce me, and you still dare to beat him!"

That fierce, distorted face was instantly recognizable. Just last week, that very same face had been weeping miserably at the Women's Protection Association, pulling open a collar to display ugly bruises, yet now she looked ready to devour Victoria alive. Taken aback for a fraction of a second, Victoria's foot instinctively slipped backward against the raised edge of the curb. With a sharp thud, she hit the pavement hard, sending the object in her hand flying far away.

There were simply too many people. Shoving aside the obstructions ahead, it was already too late to catch her fall, but he managed to lunge forward and yank up the screaming woman who was still trying to fling herself back onto the target. *Seriously, she's still wearing her pajamas.*

"Don't move!" Ignoring the incomprehensible shrieks of the woman, Richard barked the command directly in English.

*How could she move when she was being hoisted into the air like a ragdoll?* The onlookers were practically ready to start applauding; today's drama was top-tier entertainment, better than anything on TV.

"Your husband assaulted me on the street. That was self-defense, and I've already called the police," Victoria's voice rang out coolly. Sure enough, the wailing sirens of a police cruiser were already echoing close by.

*"Sigh—"* With the show over, the crowd let out a collective groan of disappointment.