Elite Ball

12/2/2025

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Sure enough, as the four approached the main entrance, Darren Yang stood there, waved arrogantly at the two large black bouncers, and called out, "Hey, you two big guys, do you know who I am?"

The two black bouncers immediately felt a chill down their spines, hurried over respectfully, and greeted in English, "Honorable Mr. Yang, welcome! Please come in, please!"

With that, the two bouncers each opened one side of the ornate iron gate, revealing a dark red Persian carpet inside.

"Heh, now that's more like it. You two big guys might actually have a future—" Darren Yang twisted their cheeks playfully and laughed mischievously.

"Thank you for the compliment, Mr. Yang—" The two bouncers nodded nervously, forcing a smile.

"Good boys—let's head inside!" Darren Yang let go, then beckoned to Shawn Young and Rachel Sasaki standing behind, swaggering through the entrance.

"Whoa—didn't expect you to have such status, Darren! You're really something, haha—" Shawn Young laughed from behind.

"Heh—well, my dad's got a pretty high standing himself! In Hong Kong's elite circles, who doesn't know him? Plus, we're Hung Society people! Who would dare disrespect us in Hong Kong—" Darren Yang boasted.

"Yeah, can't argue with that—" Shawn Young nodded, finally realizing just how powerful Martin Yang and the Hung Society really were.

Once inside the mansion, they were greeted by a lavish, spacious hall. The design cleverly mixed ovals and triangles, adorned with ornate pillars and sculptures, and crowned by a domed ceiling covered in famous paintings. The space was grand enough to host a huge ball for hundreds, with an atmosphere both dignified and splendid, and plush carpets underfoot.

The hall was filled with gold-leafed furniture and sofas wrapped in bright red velvet. The luxurious upholstery matched the exquisite carvings all around, blending seamlessly with the elegant décor and the plush carpeting, giving the whole place a vibe of opulence and nobility.

Already, the hall was buzzing with guests. Soft, lively music floated through the air. There were men and women, locals and plenty of blonde, blue-eyed foreigners. Everyone was dressed to the nines, wine glasses in hand, chatting in groups, and laughter rang out from every corner.

But the most interesting thing was that the hall was split into two zones. The other area was separated off, with pop music blasting from inside. Curious, the four stepped up and asked a waiter, finally figuring out what was going on.

Turns out, to celebrate Sylvia Snow’s birthday, Damian Zeng—the eldest son of the Zeng family—had arranged a truly unique ball. The Zengs had invited Hong Kong’s high society, but per Damian’s instructions, the party was divided into two areas: one for the Zeng family to mingle with the city’s elite, and another, at Sylvia’s special request, just for young people. There was even a sign at the entrance: 'Married folks not allowed!'

Luckily, the Zeng mansion was spacious enough, and after careful planning, it felt just like a top-tier club—complete with professional-grade equipment, thanks to the Zengs’ close ties with Hong Kong’s entertainment industry and hefty investments in film and media.

Young people always get along easily, which meant less of the usual social hassles. The whole vibe was about having fun. Damian Zeng himself was a notorious party animal—he figured this unique birthday bash would win Sylvia Snow’s heart, especially in such a lively, cheerful atmosphere.

The designated party zone was a wide dance floor, dimly lit with shimmering golden lights. On either side were plush, classical sofas, and a special area for instruments and performances. Right now, a pianist was on stage playing a gentle nocturne, setting a romantic and mysterious mood.

All around, young men and women dressed to impress—most looked under thirty, with plenty of beautiful girls in glamorous outfits, huddled in little groups, whispering over glasses of wine. Most were children of wealthy, prestigious families.

The lights stayed low, rotating spotlights swept over the handsome guys and gorgeous girls dancing in the center. Darren Yang’s eyes lit up; he instantly grabbed Dawn Yuan and pulled her onto the dance floor.

Meanwhile, Shawn Young and Rachel Sasaki had other plans. They looked around but didn’t spot Sylvia Snow, so Shawn grabbed two glasses of wine, led Rachel to a quiet sofa near the dance floor, and sat down.

"This wine tastes weird. I’m not used to it. I’m going to the restroom—" Rachel Sasaki took a sip, wrinkled her nose, and told Shawn before heading off.

No sooner had Rachel left than a chubby guy in a floral shirt and beach shorts plopped down next to Shawn. He was round as a ball, his neck and head almost fused, tiny eyes glinting as he ogled the women on the dance floor. With a crooked grin, he looked downright lecherous and comical. The most ridiculous thing? He wore wooden clogs that clacked loudly on the floor as he sat down, totally unbothered.

"Heh—bro, what do you think of the chicks here?!" The chubby guy wasted no time, jumping straight into the question.

"Uh—are you talking to me?" Shawn asked, a bit confused.

"Of course I’m talking to you! There’s no one else here, is there? Who else would I ask? Heh—bro, from a guy’s perspective, what do you think of the women here?" The chubby guy chatted like they were old friends.

"Uh—they’re alright!" Shawn didn’t know what to say, so he just gave a vague answer.

"Heh—the women in the dance floor are all rich girls from fancy families. Most of them act all classy and uptight, just putting on a show. Honestly, they’re not much fun!" The chubby guy said bluntly.

"Fun? What do you mean by fun?" Shawn didn’t quite get what the chubby guy was hinting at.

The chubby guy suddenly leaned in, grinning wickedly at Shawn. "Heh—bro, hanging out here isn’t all that interesting. Want to see some real hotties—barely dressed, killer bodies, and super flirty? They’re all rocking skimpy bikinis, and they’re wild!"

"Uh—where are these women? Is there another place like that?" Shawn asked, curiosity piqued.

"Haha—of course there is! Want to know where?" The chubby guy kept up the air of mystery.

"Uh—I mean, yeah, I’m interested. But, who are you? I don’t even know you!" Shawn said.

"Heh—you don’t know me? Well! The name’s Zeng—Damian Zeng. And this is my house!" The chubby guy introduced himself proudly.

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