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.

Chapter 8: The Rescue

He bent down to pick up her phone, which had been tossed aside in the scuffle. The impact was severe enough that the battery cover had popped off. She was trying her best to pull herself up—to no avail.

Crouching down beside her, he looked down and saw her torn stockings and