Highland Hotel, twentieth-floor banquet hall.
Twelve round tables, more than a hundred guests, yet all were frozen in place like statues, faces stunned and hearts shaken as if a hurricane had swept through.
Unbelievable.
They had actually run into Leonard Gao here!
At least in Riverdale, the name Leonard Gao was as renowned as thunder. He was the very model of self-made success, the best example for countless entrepreneurs.
But the current situation overturned everything they thought they knew.
It was as if a crisp bolt of lightning had split the sky, shattering all their inner beliefs and crushing every impression they’d held about William Han, his wife, and their son Andrew Han.
......
“Leonard Gao is bowing to Andrew Han?” A middle-aged man’s eyes went wide, round as a dead fish’s, his gold-rimmed glasses slipping down his nose.
......
"This is impossible!"
A middle-aged woman instinctively let go of her wine glass, which crashed to the floor with a sharp clatter, but the sound did nothing to rouse her from her daze.
......
A young woman’s mouth hung open, her hair in disarray, all sense of composure forgotten as she murmured, "Who? Who is he? Who is this gentleman?"
......
In truth, they had already guessed the truth of the matter.
But just now, Leonard Gao’s demeanor was as commanding as a mountain, his stride as majestic as a dragon. Yet, knowing William Han and his wife, the contrast was all the more bewildering—as if the waves they expected had become a world-shaking tsunami.
Suddenly.
Andrew Han picked up Lucy Han, who was staring wide-eyed, completely unaware of what was happening. He glanced at the pale-faced Robert Wen and said calmly, "Leonard Gao, you handle this. Don’t disrupt my graduation banquet."
"Yes, Mr. Han."
A look of joy flashed in Leonard Gao’s eyes as he hurried to respond.
Robert Wen slumped in his chair, utterly defeated. He had no energy left to protest; his face was ashen, mouth open as if to speak, but a barrier in his heart kept him silent.
Plop.
Plop.
Andrew Han, carrying Lucy Han, who was glancing around with her head tilted, seemed to glow with every step. His presence inspired both awe and unease as he walked in a straight line back to the main table.
"Yummy."
Little Lucy blinked her eyes timidly.
She was a bit scared, worried she’d done something wrong. She stared longingly at the delicious food on the table but didn’t dare touch it, sneaking a glance at her brother.
Her little head was all muddled.
Her big eyes blinked again and again.
Miles Ning’s heart nearly melted at the sight, his fierce demeanor replaced by gentle affection. "Lucy, Grandpa will get you something tasty."
"Okay." Lucy glanced at her dazed father.
"Tell Grandpa what you want to eat," Miles Ning said softly.
"I want some meat," Lucy said, pursing her lips.
"Don’t be afraid, Grandpa’s here. Come, let Grandpa get you something delicious." Miles Ning forced down the fierceness in his eyes, reached out to the round table, and in a few seconds, brought over every dish with meat and placed them in front of Lucy.
It was almost like a masterful performance.
Everyone else was lost in shock, noticing nothing. But Andrew Han, Victor Dong, and Gavin King felt their pupils contract—they sensed a fleeting, terrifying power and were left uneasy.
"Can Lucy eat?" Lucy tilted her head, sometimes looking at her brother, sometimes at her father, and finally at Miles Ning’s kindly face.
Miles Ning replied at once, "Of course. Lucy can eat whatever she likes."
Who would dare say otherwise?
He could crush him with a single slap!
As Lucy happily enjoyed her food, her ponytail swaying, Robert Wen was escorted out by Leonard Gao. The banquet hall returned to silence, leaving only the sound of Lucy eating.
Slurp.
Lucy took a sip of soup.
Crunch.
Lucy gnawed on a piece of crispy bone.
Miles Ning watched gently, his eyes filled with memories and nostalgia, as if returning to a time when life was normal—blue skies, fresh air, and everything was good.
"She looks just like... really just like."
Miles Ning reached out and lightly touched Lucy’s ponytail, then withdrew his thin, aged hand, his face shining with happiness.
Andrew Han observed carefully, finally letting go of his tension.
He could tell that Miles Ning wasn’t acting crazy—it was genuine emotion from the heart.
......
William Han and Chen Shu sat in a daze, their minds stunned by shock, exchanging blank looks, unsure what to say.
"Xiao Dong, he, he...?"
"Is this really our own son, Xiao Dong?"
......
Victor Dong glanced at Leonard Gao, now seated again, full of admiration.
He’d humbled himself, all to elevate Andrew Han and resolve the dispute properly, likely leaving a good impression on Sir Newman.
That impression was as good as a protective talisman.
"Heh heh."
Leonard Gao, smiling contentedly, raised his wine glass and glanced at Victor Dong. The two then warmly toasted William Han and his wife, chatting about light topics to ease the atmosphere.
They understood the significance of William Han and his wife.
Their eldest son was Sir Newman’s disciple, and their daughter was deeply cherished by Sir Newman. It was as if they’d ascended to the very heights of success.
With such powerful connections, if not now, when would they seize the opportunity?
William Han and Chen Shu drank in a daze, while the atmosphere at the main table grew lively. Even Andrew Han’s two cousins and his aunt occasionally joined in the conversation.
But the other tables were a different story.
It was as if a chilling fear had frozen everyone’s minds, rippling through their thoughts and making them afraid to speak loudly, lest they disturb the people above.
In short.
They finally understood: William Han and his wife were the same as ever, but their son Andrew Han now possessed unfathomable social power—even Leonard Gao called him ‘sir’.
......