Chapter 123: Beneath the Table

"Mr. Guan's capabilities are clear to all of us. However, whether one can swallow such a deal depends on the strength of one’s constitution and a bit of luck, doesn't it? Since your father is a foreigner, you certainly have an edge and would likely handle overseas assets more efficiently.

"But the uncontrollable variables are too great. If something goes wrong, what use is being abroad? One must keep the focus of business domestic. Wouldn't you agree, Grandfather?"

Fu Yanyan gently tapped a pair of tiles together. As he rested his hands on the mahjong table, they appeared remarkably elegant, like flawless jade.

After speaking, he specifically addressed his grandfather, shooting a cryptic glance toward the old man sitting behind him. Several of the elderly men present weighed his words carefully; after all, compared to profit, ensuring security was paramount.

While this business deal, worth tens of billions, would certainly yield higher profits if handed to the Guan family, they were, at the end of the day, outsiders. They could never compare to Fu Yanyan, who was family. Even if one were to be swindled, it would be kept within the family, and being cheated by one's own kin at least allowed for some recourse.

Zhong Huayan looked at her full hand of sequences, pondering. It seemed they were all here for the business in the Northeast provinces—likely not the safest of ventures. Any deal of such massive scale was bound to have its risks.

Surveying her tiles, she realized she was just one "One of Bamboo" away from winning. She looked up, interrupting the tense, confrontational atmosphere.

She turned her gaze toward the man sitting opposite her, who was hesitating over his tiles. As he reached up to touch his neck, a silver stud on his collarbone caught the light.

It was a collarbone piercing.

Apart from that, there were no visible tattoos; his skin was pale and pristine. The piercing stood out, easily noticed whenever he loosened his collar. Only those with a fractured, lonely psyche would gravitate toward piercings and pain.

Zhong Huayan pulled her gaze away and spoke casually.

"Mr. Guan, do you know how to play Chinese mahjong?"

"I know a little. My mother was from Harbin. She used to work in the family's spicy hot pot catering business and later in ice and snow tourism. She met my father during her business dealings. When it comes down to it, I prefer China over foreign countries. This is my mother's homeland, the place she missed most before she passed. I have deep feelings for this land. It is hard to find women abroad as loyal, virtuous, and brave as my mother. She knew fortune-telling, history, and how to ride horses... My father was not worthy of her."

The conversation had taken many twists and turns, yet it still circled back to business.

He used simple, lighthearted words to stake his position. Guan Yujing appeared remarkably polite and scholarly at this moment, showing no trace of the depraved nature he harbored in private.

He sat quietly, pondering his tiles and discarding them one by one.

His blue eyes were as dark as an overcast sky. They revealed no malice; in their state of calm, they appeared merely indifferent.

No one could tell how much of his speech was truth and how much was pretense.

Zhong Huayan lifted a "One of Bamboo" and placed it briskly on the table.

"I win. A concealed kong followed by a sequence."

Everyone turned to look at her. The old men, some twirling walnuts and others holding jade toads, nodded in praise.

"What good luck! This seat has been auspicious all day; I’ve had great hands every time I sat here. Everything is running smoothly."

"Young lady, you played that well. Very clever to break up your pairs like that, and you have the luck to match."

Fu Yanyan, seeing her looking so proud and feigning humility, couldn't help but smile.

He lifted his leg slightly and nudged her knee under the sandalwood mahjong table. When he looked up at her, his lips curled with a playful, teasing expression.

There was a hint of tenderness in his cold features that was difficult to detect.

Zhong Huayan thought to herself that this man was truly addicted to his little games. Was he trying to seduce her under the table?

Fu Yanyan had been a tag-along since childhood, and now that he was grown, he seemed desperate to be glued to her twenty-four hours a day.

She hooked her foot back, accidentally bumping his knee with a bit too much force.

"Ah...!"

A soft, startled gasp escaped from the secretary sitting opposite them.

Everyone, who had been on the verge of complimenting Zhong Huayan’s luck, had their attention snatched away by the secretary suddenly swaying in her seat.

Zhong Huayan felt incredibly awkward. The two of them had been brushing knees under the table, and to suddenly bump into someone else…

The Guan family’s female secretary had bright red ears, and she stole a glance at Fu Yanyan. The look of confusion and flattered surprise on her face left her completely bewildered.

Fu Yanyan couldn't explain, so he continued the game as if nothing had happened. For the rest of the round, the secretary’s peripheral vision remained fixed on the man beside him. Too afraid to speak, she continued to play her tiles in a state of deep confusion.

"Mr. Fu, I have many other secretaries back at the company, from various countries. They all have quite the 'exotic flair'."

Guan Yujing wore a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, appearing remarkably generous. He enunciated the words "exotic flair" with such emphasis that it carried a distinct, mocking undertone. Anyone in his position would have taken it as a provocation.

Not only had he been touching someone else's secretary's leg, but he had remained silent throughout. Didn't this fake, pretentious demeanor just prove his guilt?

Fu Yanyan was speechless. He could hardly explain that he had been flirting with his own girlfriend, only for her to retaliate so forcefully that she had bumped into the secretary's leg instead.

"That won't be necessary. I have no interest in exotic flair; I only feel drawn to those closest to me."

Zhong Huayan found the situation amusing. Sitting there as the winner, bored, she mischievously nudged Fu Yanyan’s knee again. She looked up at him with a wicked, wild, and bright smile, adding in a strange tone:

"That’s right. He just loves those who are close to him~"

She continued to tease him with her leg, especially when she saw him calmly drawing tiles. He looked like an ascetic monk on the surface, full of benevolence, yet in reality, he spent every day seducing her behind the scenes, all while maintaining a facade of righteous, lying calm.

"Mr. Fu, I’ve won again. A win from a kong, a self-drawn tile, and a sequence."

Only the secretary and Fu Yanyan remained in the fray.

"My, look at my nephew's hand. It seems the feng shui of this seat is truly poor. Even a charitable soul like him can't overcome this streak of bad luck."

"I sat here this afternoon and haven't won a single game. I've lost so much money already. If I can't beat this luck, surely my grandson is in the same boat?"

"It's a bad spot. Both the grandfather and grandson are stumbling in the same seat. I doubt this boy can even complete his hand by the end."

Zhong Huayan listened to the great-uncles and couldn't help but want to laugh.

Usually, outsiders would never dare speak to the Chairman of the Fu Group like this. But since they were Fu Yanyan's relatives, they stood on no ceremony. They spoke their minds without restraint, unconcerned with formalities, which in a way, made them feel closer.