Hong Kong
In Repulse Bay, one of the most prestigious and breathtaking enclaves not just in Hong Kong but across the world, stood an estate so vast and magnificent it seemed almost unreal—a private paradise hidden in plain sight.
Spanning over sixty acres, the estate was nothing short of a modern-day kingdom. Nestled between the sparkling jade waters of the South China Sea on one side and the towering skyline of Hong Kong's metropolis on the other, it offered a panoramic duality—nature's serenity and urban sophistication, all in one sweeping glance.
The main villa, perched elegantly on the estate's highest elevation, was a Mid-European manor that looked as though it had been lifted straight from the hills of Austria or Switzerland and planted here with meticulous care. Its gray stone facade, arched colonnades, and ornate balconies were draped with climbing ivy that bloomed violet in spring and deep green in summer.
The driveway alone was nearly a kilometer long, lined with manicured black pines, marble statues, and classical fountains that burst to life at dusk. Near the entrance, a grand wrought-iron gate rose like a black dragon, intricately carved with the Shen family crest—a phoenix wrapped in plum blossoms. Only a select few knew it was designed by a royal craftsman flown in from Vienna, with every hinge and curve customized to symbolize eternity, power, and grace.
Inside the estate grounds, the grandeur continued. Terraced gardens, modeled after the Palace of Versailles, cascaded down the hills, with orchids, camellias, and bonsai trees meticulously arranged to balance East and West.
And yet, none of it felt showy.
It was elegant, restrained, and timeless, much like the family who lived there—the Shen family, the wealthiest family in all of Asia. Their power spanned industries, continents, and generations, but unlike many nouveau riche families who craved headlines and attention, the Shens had mastered the art of silent dominance.
This was not just wealth.
This was dynasty.
The grand living room of the manor was a masterpiece of quiet opulence. Vaulted ceilings soared overhead, with crystal chandeliers from 19th-century France casting a soft golden glow across the room. The walls were lined with oil paintings, each one either a historical artifact or commissioned work from celebrated artists.
On a set of deep mahogany sofas, sat an elderly couple—Shen Yunhai, a dignified man in his early sixties with neatly combed silver hair and sharp, discerning eyes, and his wife, Qin Meilan, graceful and elegant in her late fifties, wearing a soft jade-green cheongsam and reading a book with her rimless glasses perched on her nose.
Standing respectfully behind them was Gao Boheng, the family's long-serving steward and Shen Yunhai's most trusted aide, whose calm demeanor and spotless gray suit made him look like a sage in disguise.
Shen Yunhai let out a loud snort, eyes glued to the ornate antique clock on the mantelpiece.
"Still not here?" he grumbled, "Didn't you say he left the private airport ages ago, Boheng?"
Gao Boheng bowed slightly, his voice as patient as always.
"Master, the drive from the airport to the villa takes time. The young master should be arriving shortly."
Qin Meilan didn't even look up from her book as she sipped her longjing tea, her voice smooth but laced with sarcasm.
"Look at you, Yunhai—pacing like a child who lost his candy. Don't go scolding my son the moment he walks in. It's just a piece of jade, not some elixir of immortality."
Shen Yunhai rolled his eyes and waved his hand dramatically.
"Meilan, you've been married to me for nearly forty years. You know how much I treasure jade. And this—this isn't just any jade!" He spread his hands apart, eyes glinting. "It's an Imperial Green, this big! Do you have any idea how rare that is?"
Meilan raised her eyes just enough to peer over her glasses.
"I have an idea. But I also know the last time you said that, it turned out to be glass dyed with spinach juice."
Shen Yunhai scowled.
"That was twenty years ago! You never let me live it down."
"Yes," she replied calmly, "because you paid five million for it and made a three-day documentary about your 'treasured find.'"
Gao Boheng quietly turned his face away to suppress a chuckle.
Yes—this bickering, elegant couple were none other than Shen Yunhai and Qin Meilan, the Patriarch and Matriarch of the Shen family. Together, they had taken a struggling family workshop and transformed it into Shen Corporation, a global empire that spanned across fashion, entertainment, aviation, telecommunications, real estate, and more.
It was said that when Shen Yunhai took over the family business, all he had was a modest factory and a mountain of debt. But with unmatched foresight and the steady support of his intelligent wife, he led the family through China's turbulent transitions. Fleeing to Hong Kong during the mainland's chaos, he capitalized on the city's industrial boom—and the rest was history.
Years later, with his eldest son Shen Waiyuan by his side, the family not only dominated the Hong Kong market but climbed to the pinnacle of wealth in all of Asia.
Even now, their empire continued to grow under the younger generation.
The Shen family had three children.
The eldest son, Shen Waiyuan, married Han Jingxian, the eldest daughter of the powerful Han family in Beijing. They had a 15-year-old son, Shen Zeyan, currently studying in Beijing.
The second son, Shen Huairen, married the gentle and cultured Lu Yajing. They had twin daughters, Shen Ruoxi and Shen Ruolin, both seven, and a toddler son, Shen Haoxuan, who had just turned one.
And then there was the family's precious jewel—their youngest daughter, Shen Yunci, born in their later years. At 23, unmarried and pampered by all, she was the true apple of the Shen family's eye.
At that moment, the faint sound of tires crunching on the gravel outside interrupted the room's quiet grandeur.
Gao Boheng straightened slightly.
"Master, I believe the young master has arrived."
Shen Yunhai shot to his feet.
"Finally! That brat better not be empty-handed."
Qin Meilan closed her book with a thud and smirked.
"Remember what I said, Yunhai. No scolding."
"I'm not scolding," Shen Yunhai muttered under his breath as he adjusted his robe. "I'm... enthusiastically welcoming him."
Gao Boheng smiled faintly.
"Of course, Master. Shall I bring him in?"
"Yes, yes! And make sure no one touches the jade before I see it!"
"Dad, I'm back."
Shen Waiyuan's deep voice echoed through the room as he strode in. Right behind him was Adrian Lim, carefully holding an exquisite red velvet box with both hands as if cradling a sacred relic.
The moment Old Master Shen Yunhai's eyes landed on the box, he sat upright with a jolt, his breath catching in his throat.
"G...Give it to me. Give me the jade!" he said, nearly stuttering, his eyes gleaming like a child about to open his favorite toy.
Adrian Lim, startled by the old man's eagerness, didn't wait for Waiyuan's instructions and hurriedly stepped forward. "Of course, Old Master Shen," he said respectfully, gently offering the box.
Shen Yunhai didn't even hide his excitement. He practically snatched the box and carefully set it on the marble coffee table. His wrinkled but steady hands reached out, and he opened the lid with the reverence of someone unveiling a divine treasure.
Qin Meilan, who had been sipping her jasmine tea, looked up, mildly curious at first. But the moment the jade was revealed, her eyes widened in astonishment. Even she—who wasn't particularly obsessed with jade like her husband—was completely captivated.
The jade inside the box was the size of a football, its glassy surface glowing with a rich, vibrant imperial green. The texture was smooth, flawless, with incredible water content and translucency. No cracks. No blemishes. It was like nature's most perfect sculpture.
"My God…" Qin Meilan murmured, leaning forward to get a better look. "This isn't jade. This is magic."
Shen Yunhai's hands trembled slightly as he lifted the piece and held it under the chandelier's light. The green glistened like living spring water. "It's real… It's truly an imperial green. Look at this luster… This water content… Even if you searched the world over, you wouldn't find another piece like this…"
Shen Waiyuan tilted his head toward his father with a playful grin.
"Of course it's real," he said smugly, draping an arm across the back of the couch. "Dad, you think I'm like you? The man who once brought home a chunk of glass painted with spinach juice and insisted it was an old imperial relic?"
He chuckled, clearly enjoying the memory.
Qin Meilan covered her mouth with a delicate laugh. "Oh heavens, I remember that! Your father even almost got it framed!"
To everyone's surprise, Old Master Shen didn't snap back. His usual stern expression had melted into one of sheer delight. He waved a hand dismissively.
"You can say whatever you want today," he said, his eyes still locked on the jade, gleaming with pride. "I won't scold you. I must say… I'm truly proud of you, Waiyuan."
Shen Waiyuan straightened his spine with exaggerated pride, puffing his chest. "Then remember this moment forever, Dad. Write it in your diary," he said with mock seriousness. "Because I don't say this often—but even I myself am proud of myself today."
Then, a spark lit up in his eyes. "But you know what? You didn't see that rainbow jade I came across," he said, gesturing at the football-sized treasure. "Rainbow-colored. It had this vivid hue that kept shifting like the northern lights. Honestly, for the first time in my life, I felt like snatching something out of someone's hands."
He paused dramatically. "But I controlled the urge. Just barely."
Old Master Shen's smile dimmed a little, a long sigh escaping his lips.
"Don't remind me," he said wistfully. "I don't know if I'll ever get to see that jade in my lifetime. That's the kind of treasure collectors dream of for decades."
Shen Waiyuan sat up suddenly, his smile replaced by a thoughtful look. "But Dad… that city. It's really something else. Magical, even."
Both Meilan and Old Master turned to look at him, curious.
"First," Waiyuan continued, "I met this girl—So mysterious—cutting jade like a goddamn sorceress. One cut after another, and each time she revealed something legendary. It wasn't just luck. It was like the stones obeyed her."
"That's rare," Old Master murmured, intrigued.
"That's not even the best part," Waiyuan leaned forward, his tone dropping to reverent awe. "When I went to the hospital to check on LuLu, I had this homemade meal. Just a few simple dishes, nothing fancy. But the moment the aroma hit me, I felt like my soul left my body. Dad, no Michelin chef, no imperial banquet, not even the food we had in Kyoto last year can compare."
Qin Meilan raised an eyebrow. "You? Praising homemade food?"
Waiyuan nodded seriously. "Mom, I swear on all the jade in this house. That food… it transcends everything. It was divine. If gods ever ate, that's the kind of food they'd fight over in heaven. It was warm, healing, and unforgettable. Like… like it could cure sadness."
Old Master Shen narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. "Who made it?"
Shen Waiyuan leaned back on the sofa, his expression still tinged with longing. "I don't know… I really wanted to investigate, but Han Zhiyuan didn't let me. However, he said the lady is opening a restaurant soon, and I'll be visiting it for sure. Anyway, I didn't get to see Master—he said one of his friends is sick and he's taking care of him. I'll go back and meet him soon… and I'll also talk to him about Zeyan."
Qin Meilan's brows knitted with concern as she studied her son. "A Zhi, are you certain about this? You want to send him to Wuhan to complete his final year of middle school? Beijing's education is far better in every aspect."
Shen Waiyuan exhaled a long breath, his gaze steady. "Mom, didn't we already decide this? He could have stayed in Beijing if Master was still here, but now that he's retired and settled in Wuhan, this is our only option. You know Zeyan's temperament—it's getting out of control. His eccentricity… it's eating at me as a father. We need to change his perspective on life. And only my Master can do that. If Zeyan can stay in Wuhan, learn under Master, and complete his third year of middle school there, then for high school, I'll let him skip grades."
His tone was firm, leaving no room for doubt.
"I absolutely agree with my husband, Mom."
The voice that rang out was soft yet carried a quiet authority.
The moment Shen Waiyuan heard it, his eyes lit up and he straightened instantly, turning toward the source.
From the arched entrance of the grand living room, Han Jingxian stepped in. She was dressed in a light green silk qipao embroidered with delicate magnolia blossoms, the subtle sheen of the fabric catching the light as she moved. Her figure was slender and graceful, her every step measured and poised, exuding an air of elegance that could silence a room. The jade hairpin that secured her long, lustrous black hair gleamed faintly, while a few loose strands framed her porcelain-like face, softening her refined beauty.
Her eyes—clear and luminous—seemed to hold the warmth of spring water, yet her gaze was steady, unshaken by the grandeur of the surroundings. Her lips curved into a gentle smile that somehow carried both kindness and quiet strength. At that moment, with the afternoon sunlight spilling in from the French windows behind her and casting a faint halo around her form, Han Jingxian looked almost ethereal, like a painting come to life.
Shen Waiyuan couldn't help the way his chest swelled with pride—after all, this was the woman he had chased for four years before she finally agreed to marry him.
The moment she sat down, he draped an arm over her shoulders with a grin that could only be described as boyishly besotted.
No one in the room commented—they had long grown used to the younger couple's public displays of affection.
Han Jingxian, however, seemed more preoccupied than indulgent. Bowing politely to the elder Shen couple, she turned her attention to her husband's parents before speaking, her voice soft but edged with concern.
"Mom," she began, "his temper is just… uncontrollable. Ever since he went to Beijing, all the socialites his age have been trying to get close to him. But he won't look at anyone, and worse, he's scared them all away with that cold anger of his. A few days ago, I went to surprise him—" she sighed "—and instead of being happy, he looked irritated and called me childish. For heaven's sake, he's only fifteen. If this goes on, what will become of him in the future? He'll never find a wife. Children at this age are like raw soil—shapeable. But once they harden, once they mature, it's almost impossible to change them. Sending him to Wuhan… it's the only way."
Everyone exchanged glances and slowly nodded, the weight of her words settling in.
"Yes, my wife is right," Shen Waiyuan said firmly, though his eyes never once left Han Jingxian's face.
Old Master Shen, sitting in his armchair with the imperial green jade in his hands, rolled his eyes at his son's lovesick expression. "Alright, alright, we won't interfere with your parenting. But make sure he's safe… and happy," he said, his tone carrying both authority and subtle warmth.
Han Jingxian nodded earnestly. "Dad, my elder brother Han Zhiyuan is in Wuhan. He can keep an eye on Zeyan. And it's only one year—we'll see the difference when he comes back."
Shen Waiyuan immediately put on a proud, almost fawning expression. "Wife, I've already taken care of his transfer. Wuhan No. 1 Middle School—one of the top schools in all of Hubei Province. I've enrolled him there for his final year."
He leaned slightly toward her, looking expectantly, as if waiting for a word of praise.
But Han Jingxian was lost in thought, her brow creased slightly. "Alright then… I'll make sure to visit him from time to time," she murmured, her mind still on her son's stubborn personality.
Shen Waiyuan sighed inwardly, slightly deflated that his achievement had gone unnoticed, but quickly composed himself, tightening his arm around her shoulder as though her approval still mattered more than anything else in the world.