11 Roaming Across the Four Seas

When it came to Helene He’s birthday, Xiyue He also mentioned the matter to Jiayi Sheng.

“You could come with me to make an appearance,” Xiyue said. “The He family and the Song family don’t get along either. If you’d cozy up to Helene He, maybe she’d be willing to help you.”

“Why are those two families at odds?”

“It’s all about that gambling license. For the first time in forty years, Macau is opening the bids. Everyone wants it. Are we really supposed to believe only Song Yuanneng can snatch it, and no one else? You don’t know—big corporations from Malaysia, the U.S., Singapore, and Indonesia are all eyeing those three licenses. Even the Gambling King himself could lose out.”

Jiayi Sheng was puzzled. “Helene He isn’t involved in the family business. Asia Pictures was built after her divorce. In principle, it has nothing to do with the He family. Why would she go back to fight for the gambling license on behalf of her maternal family?”

“She’s so outstanding that the He family chairman admires her immensely now. They’re preparing to put her on the board of the Meiya Group. With her personality, do you think she wouldn’t want to seize the gambling license to prove herself, to surpass her brother? If she manages to overthrow He Jianting and become the He family’s heir, it’s not impossible.”

“Siblings fighting each other?”

“There are hundreds of billions of assets in that family. What’s ‘brother and sister’ in a scenario like that?”

“Even if those hundreds of billions were divided up, everyone would get billions each. Isn’t that enough money for them?” Jiayi propped her chin against the back of the chair, curiously asking Xiyue.

Only then did Xiyue realize that Jiayi was still an excessively young girl.

“It’s not just about the money. Once money reaches a certain amount, it’s just a number. No one can spend it all with daily expenses. But for people like them, there’s more important than money. The Chinese say wealth doesn’t last beyond three generations—and there’s truth to that. Today, look at He Dinghuan, who commands power in Hong Kong to the point even the governor has to show him respect. But after a hundred years, will the grandchildren like Helene He or He Jianting have such influence? Most likely not.”

“Even in the entertainment industry, Helene He’s Asia Pictures is just one of three major players, and the one with the weakest star-making power. She got a huge settlement after her divorce, but if she were to inherit on her own, as a daughter in the family, she might not get nearly that much. Jiayi, this is reality. If your birth and gender don’t bring you power, then you have to rely on marriage to gain power through your husband. If you don’t even have a husband, what do you have left? I’ve known Helene He for many years, and I understand her best. A woman like her is terrifying—more so than most men—because she has to be even more ruthless than men to hold her ground.”

Xiyue sighed deeply. Her face, no longer young, had lost its collagen; the skin hung loosely over her bones, making her look gaunt. Because of this, she was often described as “harsh” and “severe.” Some said her face was unlucky and unsuitable for marrying into a wealthy family, which was why Shi Rong Zhao had yet to register their marriage.

Her rise was often linked with Zhao’s romantic history. People regarded her as Zhao’s nameless, unofficial second wife.

Yet that did not stop her from becoming a powerful figure in Hong Kong’s entertainment industry.

“In my view, Helene He is stronger than all the men in the He family combined. Her brother may not be her match.”

“I thought you and Helene He had a bad relationship,” Jiayi said softly. “I didn’t expect you to hold her in such high regard.”

“We’re rivals. If she were a fool, what does that make me after all these years of fighting her?” Xiyue snapped. “I’m telling you all this to show you that power is not given to women at birth, nor is it easy to gain later. You have to learn to leverage others. Song Yuan is powerful, but Hong Kong has people stronger than him. With a face like yours, you don’t need me to teach you what to do, do you?”

“Maybe I do need some guidance from you,” Jiayi said earnestly.

“You don’t. You’re gifted. At the He family’s banquet, it’s not just family members attending. Take your time to pick and choose—don’t miss this opportunity.”

Jiayi touched her cheek involuntarily.

Top-tier beauty is the sharpest weapon—anyone who’s been in the mud and mire of this world would understand that upon seeing her face.

---

The He family’s ancestral mansion is in Shek O. Because the family never split assets, all five branches lived in three connected villas. Helene He married the son of a shipping magnate at twenty-three, divorced at twenty-eight, and founded Asia Pictures, becoming the first of the third generation to establish her own empire.

She loved liveliness and was passionate about throwing parties. Her luxurious hilltop estate on Peak Road was a popular gathering spot for socialites and stars.

Nothing in Hong Kong’s entertainment circle stays secret. On Helene He’s fortieth birthday, paparazzi had long stationed themselves on the slope below, blocking every luxury car heading to the He residence to capture photos.

Jiayi Sheng sat in the backseat of Xiyue He’s Audi. The moment she appeared, the paparazzi descended like hyenas attracted to the scent of meat, forcing the car to stop by the roadside, cameras aimed at her face.

“Jiayi!” a paparazzo shouted, tapping the window, hoping she’d lower it.

Jiayi removed her sunglasses and gave a perfect smile but made no move.

Just then, the roar of an engine came from behind. A white Porsche 911 GT screeched uphill, brakes squealing as it stopped beside the Audi, drawing half the paparazzi’s attention.

Jiayi glanced at the license plate and told Xiyue, “That’s Jiacheng Xie’s car.”

Every year, Hong Kong’s entertainment world holds a popularity vote for the top fifty actors, akin to choosing a martial arts clan leader in wuxia stories. Though unofficial, those ranked at the top reflect their status and heat within the industry. Over the past five years, Jiayi’s longtime partner Jihan He had once taken first place; Liangxi Cheng three times; this year, first place was swept by Jiacheng Xie.

“Well, he’s arrived just in time,” Jiayi said. As soon as she finished, half the paparazzi abandoned her to focus their cameras on the Porsche, apparently unwilling to let Jiacheng Xie go without a window down.

Seizing the chaos, Xiyue’s driver drove into the He family’s gates.

Inside, the steep driveway was lined with banana trees. On one side gleamed a bright yellow Ferrari F355; on the other, a deep blue Lamborghini Diablo—rare top-tier supercars, their vivid colors sparkling under the light.

So many people came to support Helene He that cars filled even the street outside. Only distinguished guests were allowed to drive their vehicles inside. The Lamborghini Diablo’s owner was obvious—only a handful in Hong Kong owned that model.

“Even Young Master Shen is here,” Xiyue remarked with admiration. “Helene He’s birthday party is truly a grand affair.”

“Which Young Master Shen?”

“The heir to the Changhe Group.”

“Does Young Master Shen have a good relationship with Young Master He?”

“That’s the rumor. The Shen family moved from the mainland and has their own circle. They rarely appear at high-society gatherings.”

Dozens of servants stood ready to greet guests. As the two women got out of the car, a Filipino maid approached to guide them.

Jiayi took the opportunity to link her arm through Xiyue’s.

Passing through the front yard, they reached a cliffside pool shimmering with turquoise water. Behind the infinity pool stretched a forest that reached into the distance, with tall buildings hidden among the hills and a sliver of bay visible.

At dusk, the clouds were tinged with red.

Beautiful women in bikinis laughed and played in the pool. Small groups clustered around the waterside bar. The water’s surface was bathed in pink twilight, rippling gently in the breeze.

Long tables and chairs were set up on the lawn, piled with platters of French blue lobster sashimi, caviar assortments, black truffle beef paired with Bordeaux wine. A band played stringed instruments in a corner, their music drifting softly beneath the clamor of the crowd, which made the atmosphere lively and noisy.

Jiayi scanned the scene. All were familiar names: several top-tier stars, renowned directors, leading producers, the CFO and production director of the Wireless Radio Group, the deputy director of Hong Kong’s Culture, Sports and Tourism Bureau, the chairman of Zhongxing Entertainment, and executives from foreign financial institutions...

---

“This plot only has ten villas in a row, each worth over a hundred million. See that empty balcony next door? That’s the residence of Wu Fangyu, the richest man in Cambodia. He owns the largest casino in Phnom Penh and runs Cambodia Airlines. Every December, he flies in on his private jet to celebrate Christmas in Hong Kong,” Xiyue said, still smiling and greeting others but lowering her voice to speak to Jiayi. “So, what do you think? Regret not socializing more with me before?”

Peak Road, Pak Ka Road, and Gough Road are famous for their sky-high mansions. Midway up the hills, below the fog line, lies a paradise for the ultra-wealthy.

Bathed in the afterglow, Jiayi replied lightly, “The sunset is beautiful.”

Indeed, the view, valued at four hundred million, lived up to its reputation.

She now roughly understood Xiyue’s meaning: the glittering world of fame and fortune was as ruthless as a battlefield; the victor was king, the loser outcast. Many spent their entire lives unable to rise to prominence, but no matter who won, people like Helene He only needed to sit firmly behind the scenes and watch the deadly struggles unfold with a smile.

“Don’t make it sound so easy. I’m saying this to encourage you to work harder,” Xiyue said, quickly slipping back into her trademark smile. “Boss Hong, long time no see.”

She released Jiayi’s hand, swaying her hips as she approached a man just past fifty. Her almond-shaped eyes narrowed slightly, radiating charm.

“Andy, how’s A-May from Orange Leaf doing? Has she been out singing lately?”

“She’s been busy filming movies. No time to perform; she’s swamped.”

“Next month, the chairman of Indonesia’s Leman Group is coming to Hong Kong for his birthday. Could she sing a birthday song?”

“No problem.”

“This must be Miss Sheng. It’s my first time seeing her.”

Jiayi stood politely behind Xiyue, nodding to Boss Hong, who was in the watchmaking business.

“Jiayi doesn’t like going out,” Xiyue complained. “I’m always telling her to get out more, meet some of Hong Kong’s top players! Boss Zhou, long time no see. You’re as charming as ever...”

Jiayi felt like a well-behaved child accompanying an adult to a social event. Xiyue was the masterful hostess working the room; Jiayi only needed to smile and greet everyone. If it came to social skill, no matter how many Jiayis there were, none could match one Boss He.

Helene He did not appear until twilight deepened.

Her mother was the first Hong Kong actress to marry into a top-tier wealthy family. Helene inherited her mother’s best traits: poised, stately, and beautiful. She wore a white Grecian-style gown, her figure full and features refined. To her left stood He Jianting—not particularly handsome, but tall, upright, and handsome in a gentle way. With six hundred billion in inheritance, he was like a warm lamp walking among people.

On Helene’s right stood a gentleman of the elite class. Though standing still, he exuded a lazy nonchalance. His gray suit carried an air of effortless style. His hair was slicked back in a classic Hong Kong pompadour, and behind gold-rimmed glasses, his peach-blossom eyes blinked, directly meeting Jiayi Sheng’s gaze.

“Here comes the Miss Sheng you’ve been thinking about,” he said to He Jianting in a voice loud enough for all to hear.

All eyes turned toward them in unison.