Chapter 22: Destiny

As she was about to leave, the nurse stopped her, reminding her of a nine o’clock X-ray appointment scheduled for that morning. She insisted it wasn’t necessary for the time being.

Once in the car, Assistant Lin handed her several documents to sign. After discussing business, her assistant relayed an additional piece of news, “The Fourth Young Master has scheduled a meeting with President Lu of Wenyuan.”

Song Mi quickly processed this. “Lu Zhiyuan’s personal file?”

Naturally, Lin was prepared. He passed over a manila envelope while supplementing verbally, “The Lu family intends to arrange a marriage alliance with the Zhou family in the capital. They flew there specifically a few days ago, most likely to meet the second Miss Zhou, who’s just returned from studying abroad.”

The Zhou family, one of the four great families in the capital—Song Mi could easily picture their web of social connections in her mind.

For years, Old Master Shen had been determined to shift the core business of the Sihai Group to the capital. Looking at it from every angle, it was a wise and necessary move.

Of course, she could have chosen to play the conservative caretaker. But she had her own ambitions—or perhaps her own sense of playfulness.

What was the point of an education at the Wharton School, that five-star diploma, if not to wield one’s skills in the real world?

Reining in her thoughts, Song Mi instructed Assistant Lin to handle a matter unrelated to either Sihai Group or the Shen family.

…

She returned to her apartment, took a quick hot shower, and changed her clothes.

By the time her car stopped outside Tianxiang Pavilion, long lines had already formed at both breakfast windows.

It wasn’t her fault her face was so striking—blending in was nearly impossible. As she walked straight to the main entrance, grumbles of discontent quickly rose from the crowd.

“Wasn’t it only takeout for breakfast?”

“Yeah, so having money means you can do whatever you want…”

“Exactly…”

Song Mi acted as if she hadn’t heard a thing, unbothered. The staff inside, however, recognized the commotion and hurried out. The moment they saw her, they bowed and respectfully ushered her in. “You’ve arrived!”

“Hurry, bring out the sign that says we stop serving at eight,” someone instructed.

The murmurs outside only grew louder, and many recognized her at once—after all, she’d been at the top of the trending searches just yesterday.

Song Mi hadn’t taken many steps inside before she finally spoke, “Uncle Zhang, have someone go out and explain.”

He bowed deeply. “Yes, of course.”

As she climbed the stairs to the second floor, Uncle Zhang’s voice could be heard outside, apologizing and offering an explanation. “Sorry, everyone. The lady who just went in is our major shareholder…”

…

By coincidence, among those waiting in line was Jiang Zihao, who’d been sent by his boss to buy breakfast.

His boss was never this picky—why, of all days, did he send a message at four thirty in the morning, asking for breakfast from Tianxiang Pavilion, of all places?

Everyone knew Tianxiang Pavilion’s breakfast was limited in quantity—once it was gone, it was gone for the day.

He’d rushed over the moment he woke up, only to find the glamorous CEO herself inspecting the shop, turning the limited supply into a limited time window.

There were still so many people in front of him, and only ten minutes left till eight o’clock… Forget it, better to give up now.

With that in mind, Jiang Zihao quickly took out his phone, snapped several photos of the second-floor window seats, and added a message: Boss, you can’t blame me—fate just keeps bringing you and Miss Song together!

…

Wen Yanli received the message while driving toward Tianxiang Pavilion.

He’d left the hospital at four, gone home for a shower, dozed for two hours, and then spent another hour reviewing case files.

Originally, he’d planned to pick up the breakfast from Zihao and deliver it to Song Mi at the hospital. Conveniently, he had a ten o’clock meeting in the area.

But now, it seemed his efforts were unnecessary.

As far as he knew, the Sihai Group had no stake in the restaurant business—so, was Tianxiang Pavilion her private enterprise?

But that wasn’t his main concern.

The frost gradually settling on his jade-like features was due to the fact that she’d left the hospital so early, apparently without visiting the orthopedics department.

Did this woman simply not feel pain?

Reading Jiang Zihao’s message about fate, and recognizing the unfamiliar turmoil within himself, Wen Yanli suddenly recalled something utterly unrelated.

That night, from beginning to end, he hadn’t taken any precautions…