The invitation was embossed on thick, cream-colored cardstock. It was for a exclusive charity gala at the Museum of Modern Art, an event for the city's financial elite. Ye Xia had "wasted" $20,000 on a ticket, seeing it as a necessary expense for networking and observation. It was also an opportunity to waste more money on a suitable gown.
She chose a creation by a fierce new Korean designer—a dress of liquid black silk that wrapped around her now-toned body like a second skin, both severe and sensual. She looked in the mirror and saw a stranger: a young woman of power and mystery. The last vestiges of "Fatty Ye" were gone.
The gala was a spectacle of wealth. Men in bespoke tuxedos and women dripping in jewels sipped champagne under the glow of iconic artworks. Ye Xia moved through the crowd like a ghost, listening to snippets of conversation about mergers, IPOs, and market forecasts. She was an outsider, but her [Advanced Etiquette] skill allowed her to blend in, to appear as if she belonged.
It was there that she saw him.
Mo.
He was across the room, surrounded by a group of older, clearly powerful men who were hanging on his every word. He was even more imposing in a tuxedo, a stark figure of controlled intensity amidst the gilded crowd. His eyes met hers across the room, and for a fraction of a second, the noise and the people seemed to fade away. He gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod of recognition.
A few minutes later, as she was examining a Picasso, he appeared at her shoulder.
"New York agrees with you, Ye Xia," he said, his voice a low murmur. "You wear ambition well."
"It's a city that rewards it," she replied, turning to face him. "I didn't expect to see you here."
"My family has interests here," he said vaguely. "And I find the charity… efficient. It filters the herd."
"The herd?"
"The ones who talk about money. I prefer to watch the ones who understand power." His dark eyes held hers. "Your activities have been… interesting. The loss-making trades are a curious strategy."
So he was monitoring her financial moves. The realization was unsettling, but also, perversely, flattering.
"It's a form of tuition," she said, echoing his own cryptic style. "I'm paying for an education."
"A expensive one," he noted. "But effective. You're learning faster than anyone anticipates."
"And what about you, Mo?" she dared to ask. "What are you learning?"
He was silent for a moment, studying her. "I'm learning that some investments have unexpected returns. Even those that initially appear to be… wasteful."
Before she could decipher that, a smooth, oily voice interrupted them.
"Well, well. If it isn't the mysterious Mr. Mo. And who is your lovely companion?"
A man in his forties, with overly perfect teeth and a tan that spoke of frequent trips to the tropics, joined them. He had the aggressive confidence of a successful predator. Ye Xia recognized him from the financial news: Gavin Strickland, a hedge fund manager known for his ruthless tactics.
"Strickland," Mo said, his tone cooling several degrees. "This is Miss Ye. Miss Ye, Gavin Strickland."
"A pleasure," Strickland said, taking Ye Xia's hand and holding it a moment too long. His eyes appraised her with a blatant mixture of lust and curiosity. "Ye? Any relation to the emerging Xing Guang Capital? I've seen the filings. Aggressive, loss-making moves. A bold strategy."
Ye Xia extracted her hand smoothly. "Xing Guang is my fund, Mr. Strickland. We're in a phase of strategic positioning."
"Positioning for what, if you don't mind me asking? Burning capital?" He laughed, a loud, hollow sound. "Perhaps you need a more experienced guide. I'd be happy to offer my… expertise."
The offer was laden with implication. Mo watched the exchange, his expression unreadable.
"Thank you for the offer," Ye Xia said, her voice like polished ice. "But I prefer to chart my own course."
Strickland's smile tightened. "A dangerous preference, little girl. The markets eat naivety for breakfast. I'd hate to see someone so… fresh… get chewed up and spat out." He turned to Mo. "You should teach your protégé some caution, Mo. The jungle has rules."
"Miss Ye is no one's protégé," Mo said, his voice dangerously soft. "And she is far from naive. I'd be more concerned about the jungle itself, Strickland. It has a way of turning on those who underestimate its inhabitants."
The warning in his tone was unmistakable. Strickland's face flushed. He muttered a curt goodbye and stalked off.
"You've made an enemy," Mo observed mildly.
"It seems to be a talent of mine," Ye Xia replied. "Who is he, really?"
"A shark who believes he's a whale. His fund is over-leveraged. He's desperate for a big win. Desperate men are unpredictable. Be careful of him."
The encounter was a reminder that New York was not just a school; it was a battlefield. And she had just drawn the attention of another predator.
As the gala wound down, Mo offered her a ride back to her hotel. They rode in silence through the glittering canyons of Manhattan. When the car pulled up at The Plaza, he turned to her.
"The test I mentioned is coming soon," he said. "Strickland may be a part of it. Remember, the goal is not to win a battle, but to survive the war and learn from the fight."
"What kind of test?" Ye Xia asked.
"You'll know it when you see it," he said cryptically. "Goodnight, Ye Xia."
She got out of the car, watching as it pulled away into the night. The pieces were moving on the board. The Yun family, Mo, now Gavin Strickland. She was at the center of a gathering storm.
Back in her suite, she checked her messages. There was one from Attorney Li. The lawsuit against her father and Wang Yan was proceeding; the discovery process was causing them immense stress. And there was another message from Lin Wanwan, sent to her old phone number. It was desperate, pleading.
[Xiaxia, please! We need to talk. Liang Rui's company is in trouble. The Lin family… my father… they'll be ruined! You have to help!]
Ye Xia deleted the message. The problems of her old life seemed small and distant from the top of The Plaza. But she knew they were still there, simmering. She would have to return soon to finish what she started.
But first, she had to face the test in New York.