The Marriage Harbor CH32
Chapter 32: Competition
The gala’s high-octane drum finale and soaring vocals had barely faded, but the echoes remained. The applause was relentless; long after Jiang Bin had left the stage, shouts of "Little President Jiang, you’re my goddess!" still rang through the stands.
The performance had been a triumph, but the real battlefield was just beginning: the charity banquet at the hotel ballroom.
Having stolen the spotlight from even her father, Jiang Bin was immediately encircled by those eager to make a connection. Industry leaders bypassed Jiang Chengxiao to cluster around her, eager to discuss business. Recognizing the momentum, Jiang Bin struck while the iron was hot. Flanked by her heads of marketing and sales, she navigated the room with practiced composure, networking and solidifying alliances with effortless grace.
The "drumming fever" showed no signs of breaking. Online, the adoration for Jiang Bin reached a religious fervor.
Madam Tang and her husband had watched the entire livestream. As soon as it ended, Madam Tang obtained high-definition stills from her private administrator. She selected the most breathtaking shot and posted it to Weibo and WeChat with a four-word caption: The Pearl of Shanghai.
As that phrase began to trend, a new challenger emerged. Second Young Master Shen, Jiang Bin’s most persistent suitor, took to Weibo to publicly provoke Tang Zhisong: [Binbin, just get a divorce and marry me.]
The internet erupted. Netizens, ever the fans of a good spectacle, flooded the comments:
[Why didn't you @TangZhizong?]
[I'll @ him for you...]
[Oh no, I can't find his account.]
[Upstairs, Tang Zhisong doesn't have a Weibo. Just @ the official Ningsheng Tech account.]
The head of PR at Ningsheng Tech watched the mountain of "Please Divorce" messages with despair.
[One minute has passed. Has President Tang divorced yet?]
[One minute has passed. Has President Tang replied?]
Tang Zhisong did not reply. Instead, it was Tang Zhisong’s father who took action. He screenshotted the post and sent it directly to the elder Mr. Shen. Furious, the elder Shen called his son, threatening to cut off his allowance unless the post was deleted.
The Young Master Shen remained defiant. He shut off his phone and hid in the hotel, refusing to budge. Eventually, his father managed to get the platform to shadow-ban the post. Five minutes later, the persistent suitor simply reposted it on an international social media platform.
Netizens were delighted.
[Don't delete it, Second Master! We'll crowdfund your allowance]
[Half an hour has passed. Does Tang Zhisong have a pulse? Where is the reaction?]
As the world obsessed over their marriage, the couple was busy. A journalist managed to sneak a photo of Jiang Bin in her white mermaid gown, deep in discussion with a "New Energy" vehicle manufacturer. In the photo, she looked cold, sharp, and commanding—a far cry from the charming performer on stage.
As for Tang Zhisong... he was nowhere to be found.
Shortly after entering the banquet, he had retreated to a small tea room to take an urgent international call from a high-ranking European official. They were discussing the integration of Ningsheng’s AI framework into local base stations. Even without his physical presence in the ballroom, his sales directors were busy signing massive contracts.
The netizens eventually reached a consensus: [This couple is busy signing multi-billion dollar deals; they don't have time to play with us.]
Old Mr. Qin, being up in years, retired at eight o’clock after eating. Jiang Bin personally escorted him back to his room to rest. On the way, they didn't chat about much, only about the circumstances of Jiang Bin’s grandfather when he was alive.
Jiang Bin’s performance tonight undoubtedly added many points to her bid as the successor.
Jiang Shaoyu’s side was already feeling a sense of crisis, but he remained composed, hosting guests in his capacity as the young heir of the Jiang Group and discussing new directions in the real estate industry.
Once Old Mr. Qin left, Tang Zhisong also greeted Jiang Chengxiao and withdrew. He sent a text to Jiang Bin, but she didn't reply. Leaving the company's relevant heads at the scene, he simply rested in the car.
It wasn't until half an hour later that Jiang Bin saw his message. After finishing her social duties with the big shots, she went to the ladies' tables to give her greetings. Jiang Yao hadn't shown her face today; she didn't want to serve as a foil to Jiang Bin. Chen Ling presided over the main table for the wives. Because of her past "disgraceful history", these ladies were all shrewd socialites; they were polite on the surface, but few were truly close to her in their hearts.
The moment Jiang Bin entered, the enthusiasm surged by several degrees as everyone pulled her aside to ask questions.
"Wow, Binbin! I’ve only seen this bag in magazines. How did you get it?"
Jiang Bin smiled. "It was a gift from my husband."
Inevitably, everyone praised the deep affection between her and Tang Zhisong again.
Jiang Bin didn't make things difficult for Chen Ling; she sat down and ate a bit with her. Chen Ling was also very gentle toward her: "You must be starving. Drink this bowl of chicken soup."
Once she was full, Jiang Bin remembered the man waiting in the car.
"I have things to attend to, so I won't stay with you aunts any longer. I'll make time to invite you for afternoon tea." She excused herself to the ladies with the intention of wrapping things up soon.
The gala’s high-octane drum finale and soaring vocals had barely faded, but the echoes remained. The applause was relentless; long after Jiang Bin had left the stage, shouts of "Little President Jiang, you’re my goddess!" still rang through the stands.
The performance had been a triumph, but the real battlefield was just beginning: the charity banquet at the hotel ballroom.
Having stolen the spotlight from even her father, Jiang Bin was immediately encircled by those eager to make a connection. Industry leaders bypassed Jiang Chengxiao to cluster around her, eager to discuss business. Recognizing the momentum, Jiang Bin struck while the iron was hot. Flanked by her heads of marketing and sales, she navigated the room with practiced composure, networking and solidifying alliances with effortless grace.
The "drumming fever" showed no signs of breaking. Online, the adoration for Jiang Bin reached a religious fervor.
Madam Tang and her husband had watched the entire livestream. As soon as it ended, Madam Tang obtained high-definition stills from her private administrator. She selected the most breathtaking shot and posted it to Weibo and WeChat with a four-word caption: The Pearl of Shanghai.
As that phrase began to trend, a new challenger emerged. Second Young Master Shen, Jiang Bin’s most persistent suitor, took to Weibo to publicly provoke Tang Zhisong: [Binbin, just get a divorce and marry me.]
The internet erupted. Netizens, ever the fans of a good spectacle, flooded the comments:
[Why didn't you @TangZhizong?]
[I'll @ him for you...]
[Oh no, I can't find his account.]
[Upstairs, Tang Zhisong doesn't have a Weibo. Just @ the official Ningsheng Tech account.]
The head of PR at Ningsheng Tech watched the mountain of "Please Divorce" messages with despair.
[One minute has passed. Has President Tang divorced yet?]
[One minute has passed. Has President Tang replied?]
Tang Zhisong did not reply. Instead, it was Tang Zhisong’s father who took action. He screenshotted the post and sent it directly to the elder Mr. Shen. Furious, the elder Shen called his son, threatening to cut off his allowance unless the post was deleted.
The Young Master Shen remained defiant. He shut off his phone and hid in the hotel, refusing to budge. Eventually, his father managed to get the platform to shadow-ban the post. Five minutes later, the persistent suitor simply reposted it on an international social media platform.
Netizens were delighted.
[Don't delete it, Second Master! We'll crowdfund your allowance]
[Half an hour has passed. Does Tang Zhisong have a pulse? Where is the reaction?]
As the world obsessed over their marriage, the couple was busy. A journalist managed to sneak a photo of Jiang Bin in her white mermaid gown, deep in discussion with a "New Energy" vehicle manufacturer. In the photo, she looked cold, sharp, and commanding—a far cry from the charming performer on stage.
As for Tang Zhisong... he was nowhere to be found.
Shortly after entering the banquet, he had retreated to a small tea room to take an urgent international call from a high-ranking European official. They were discussing the integration of Ningsheng’s AI framework into local base stations. Even without his physical presence in the ballroom, his sales directors were busy signing massive contracts.
The netizens eventually reached a consensus: [This couple is busy signing multi-billion dollar deals; they don't have time to play with us.]
Old Mr. Qin, being up in years, retired at eight o’clock after eating. Jiang Bin personally escorted him back to his room to rest. On the way, they didn't chat about much, only about the circumstances of Jiang Bin’s grandfather when he was alive.
Jiang Bin’s performance tonight undoubtedly added many points to her bid as the successor.
Jiang Shaoyu’s side was already feeling a sense of crisis, but he remained composed, hosting guests in his capacity as the young heir of the Jiang Group and discussing new directions in the real estate industry.
Once Old Mr. Qin left, Tang Zhisong also greeted Jiang Chengxiao and withdrew. He sent a text to Jiang Bin, but she didn't reply. Leaving the company's relevant heads at the scene, he simply rested in the car.
It wasn't until half an hour later that Jiang Bin saw his message. After finishing her social duties with the big shots, she went to the ladies' tables to give her greetings. Jiang Yao hadn't shown her face today; she didn't want to serve as a foil to Jiang Bin. Chen Ling presided over the main table for the wives. Because of her past "disgraceful history", these ladies were all shrewd socialites; they were polite on the surface, but few were truly close to her in their hearts.
The moment Jiang Bin entered, the enthusiasm surged by several degrees as everyone pulled her aside to ask questions.
"Wow, Binbin! I’ve only seen this bag in magazines. How did you get it?"
Jiang Bin smiled. "It was a gift from my husband."
Inevitably, everyone praised the deep affection between her and Tang Zhisong again.
Jiang Bin didn't make things difficult for Chen Ling; she sat down and ate a bit with her. Chen Ling was also very gentle toward her: "You must be starving. Drink this bowl of chicken soup."
Once she was full, Jiang Bin remembered the man waiting in the car.
"I have things to attend to, so I won't stay with you aunts any longer. I'll make time to invite you for afternoon tea." She excused herself to the ladies with the intention of wrapping things up soon.
By 9:30 PM, the social obligations were winding down. Jiang Bin, wrapped in her plush fur coat and accompanied by Li Yang, headed to the parking garage. She spotted the familiar Rolls-Royce waiting by the private elevator. After waving goodbye to Li Yang, she slid into the back seat.
Tang Zhisong, who had been resting, opened his eyes to find a soft, fragrant bundle crowding into his space. Jiang Bin was exhausted, she leaned back against the seat and stared at him.
The silence in the back of the car was heavy. Since neither had buckled their seatbelts, the driver wisely stared out the window, waiting for instructions.
Tang Zhisong looked at her—haughty, tired, and beautiful. He leaned over slowly, reaching for her seatbelt. His movements were deliberate, his gaze carrying a tangible heat as it traced the line of her cheek and her red lips. He didn't say a word, nor did he touch her, but his burning breath mingled with hers for a fleeting second before the click! of the buckle signaled he was done.
"Drive," he commanded, settling back.
"I'm going to sleep for a bit," Jiang Bin murmured, her voice trailing off as her eyes drifted shut against the plush leather of the car seat.
"Mmh. I'll wake you when we arrive," Tang Zhisong replied, his own voice dropping to a low, soothing hum.
Half an hour later, the car glided into the Emerald Heights' garage. Jiang Bin was deep in sleep, her face nestled into the soft white fur of her coat. In the dim glow of the garage lights, she looked surprisingly small—vulnerable in a way she never allowed herself to be under those ballroom lights. Tang Zhisong unbuckled his seatbelt and gave a silent, sharp nod to the driver, who understood immediately and slipped away.
He walked around to the passenger side, unfastened her belt with careful precision, and gathered her into a bridal carry. He didn't wake her; he simply held her close, feeling the steady rhythm of her heart against his chest as he navigated the private elevator.
Inside the apartment, the biting air of the foyer acted as a sudden jolt. Jiang Bin’s eyes fluttered open, but before her mind could register the handsome face hovering inches from hers, his mouth was on hers. It wasn't the polite kiss of a husband greeting a wife; it was an overwhelming, possessive claim. Jiang Bin’s spine went rigid for a fleeting second before her hands found the lapels of his cashmere coat, pulling him closer. He stripped the fur from her shoulders, letting the expensive garment fall to the floor in a heap of forgotten luxury.
Stripped of her protective layer, she was left in nothing but the thin, cool silk of her mermaid gown. Tang Zhisong didn't let her go. He carried her toward the study, his strides heavy and purposeful.
She remembered the screenshots her friends had sent—the images of Tang Zhisong sitting in the audience, looking cold, untouchable, and devastatingly handsome. He was a man of moonlight and frost, always in control.
But here, his eyes were dark with an emotion she couldn't quite name. If only, she thought, a sudden ache blooming in her chest, the words 'Wife, I love you' would fall from those lips. She wondered if the day would ever come when he truly fell for her.
Tang Zhisong looked deep into her eyes, which were as clear as a mountain spring even in her exhaustion. Seeing the flicker of vulnerability there, he felt a sudden, fierce urge to see them clouded with passion once more, to pull her back from the edge of sleep and keep her in his world just a little longer. He dipped his head, kissing her again with a quiet, total devotion, giving himself to her completely.
On Weibo, the fervor remained and their marriage became a 'super topic'. Disappointed by Tang Zhisong's silence, netizens continued to demand a divorce. Someone even started a "Daily Divorce Tracker" for the couple.
But inside Emerald Heights, the night was a masterpiece of intimacy. They both let go, indulging in each other until the first light of the New Year's holiday began to break.
As for that disastrous first date? By unspoken agreement, neither mentioned it. They were both treading carefully, cherishing the fragile peace they had finally built.
Chapter Notes:
Tang Zhisong, who had been resting, opened his eyes to find a soft, fragrant bundle crowding into his space. Jiang Bin was exhausted, she leaned back against the seat and stared at him.
The silence in the back of the car was heavy. Since neither had buckled their seatbelts, the driver wisely stared out the window, waiting for instructions.
Tang Zhisong looked at her—haughty, tired, and beautiful. He leaned over slowly, reaching for her seatbelt. His movements were deliberate, his gaze carrying a tangible heat as it traced the line of her cheek and her red lips. He didn't say a word, nor did he touch her, but his burning breath mingled with hers for a fleeting second before the click! of the buckle signaled he was done.
"Drive," he commanded, settling back.
"I'm going to sleep for a bit," Jiang Bin murmured, her voice trailing off as her eyes drifted shut against the plush leather of the car seat.
"Mmh. I'll wake you when we arrive," Tang Zhisong replied, his own voice dropping to a low, soothing hum.
Half an hour later, the car glided into the Emerald Heights' garage. Jiang Bin was deep in sleep, her face nestled into the soft white fur of her coat. In the dim glow of the garage lights, she looked surprisingly small—vulnerable in a way she never allowed herself to be under those ballroom lights. Tang Zhisong unbuckled his seatbelt and gave a silent, sharp nod to the driver, who understood immediately and slipped away.
He walked around to the passenger side, unfastened her belt with careful precision, and gathered her into a bridal carry. He didn't wake her; he simply held her close, feeling the steady rhythm of her heart against his chest as he navigated the private elevator.
Inside the apartment, the biting air of the foyer acted as a sudden jolt. Jiang Bin’s eyes fluttered open, but before her mind could register the handsome face hovering inches from hers, his mouth was on hers. It wasn't the polite kiss of a husband greeting a wife; it was an overwhelming, possessive claim. Jiang Bin’s spine went rigid for a fleeting second before her hands found the lapels of his cashmere coat, pulling him closer. He stripped the fur from her shoulders, letting the expensive garment fall to the floor in a heap of forgotten luxury.
Stripped of her protective layer, she was left in nothing but the thin, cool silk of her mermaid gown. Tang Zhisong didn't let her go. He carried her toward the study, his strides heavy and purposeful.
The journey from the foyer to the study took nearly half the time it took to drive home. The smart-lights in the hallway flickered to life and died away as they passed, unable to illuminate the heat building between them. Her heels were kicked off somewhere in the shadows, her toes curling against the cold floor whenever he pressed her against the wall to deepen the kiss.
They ended up by the floor-to-ceiling windows of the study. There was no bed here—only the vast expanse of cold glass and the silhouette of a velvet armchair. He pressed her against the pane, and the shock of the cold glass against her skin made her gasp into his mouth. He turned her body around, and her palms splayed against the window, leaving frantic, damp prints as she looked out at the distant, shimmering lights of the river.
Outside, the winter wind howled, whipping the first flakes of a blizzard against the building. Inside, the heat was suffocating, thick with the scent of his cologne and her perfume. Jiang Bin buried her face in the heavy velvet curtains, her fingers gripping the fabric to muffle the sounds she couldn't contain. Even though she knew the glass was one-way, the feeling of being so exposed—so utterly undone under his dominance—left her trembling.
Tang Zhisong was a wolf who had forgotten his gentleman’s manners. He hadn't even removed his shirt, and her gown was still tangled around her hips in a ruin of white silk, but his touch was everywhere. His hands anchored her waist, his grip bruisingly tight as he pushed himself deeper into her with a raw, unyielding hunger that felt as though it would unearth her very soul.
Eventually, the fire burned itself out. Jiang Bin collapsed with her back against his chest, her skin slick with sweat and her breaths coming in ragged, broken hitches. The cold, calculated persona was gone, replaced by a woman entirely spent. Tang Zhisong held her with a sudden, aching tenderness, using the hem of his own shirt to gently wipe the moisture from her brow. When her breathing finally steadied, he tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead.
"Shall I carry you to the bath?" he rasped, his voice still thick with a desire that hadn't quite faded.
"Mmh," was all she could manage, the sound vibrating in her throat as she leaned into his strength.
After a quick, quiet cleanup, Jiang Bin crawled into the expansive bed, her limbs feeling like lead. She was beyond exhausted, her body humming with a deep, bone-weary fatigue that made even the silk sheets feel heavy. Tang Zhisong joined her moments later. Instead of letting her retreat into sleep, he gently pulled her back from the covers, his fingers steady as he cleared the damp, tangled hair from her face.
He looked at her then—really looked at her. Without the armor of her makeup or the defiant glint of the "President Jiang" persona, she was startlingly real. The memory of her radiant performance on stage flashed through his mind; she had been so breathtaking under the spotlights, untouchable and brilliant. But here, in the soft glow of the bedside lamp, she was a woman he could finally reach. The contrast was too sharp, too beautiful to ignore, and he leaned down to capture her lips once more.
He was patient this time, his kiss slow and coaxing, a major shift from the raw hunger in the study. He lingered, tracing the curve of her mouth until Jiang Bin finally forced her eyes open. She looked up at him with a hazy, drunken gaze—drunken not from wine, but from the sheer intensity of him. She reached out, her fingers trembling slightly as they brushed the warm expanse of his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heart and the heat radiating from his skin.
"President Jiang wasn't quite this... compliant on stage," he teased, his voice a velvet shadow in the quiet room.
A ghost of a smile touched her lips as she found the strength to fire back. "And President Tang wasn't quite this passionate off-stage, either."
They ended up by the floor-to-ceiling windows of the study. There was no bed here—only the vast expanse of cold glass and the silhouette of a velvet armchair. He pressed her against the pane, and the shock of the cold glass against her skin made her gasp into his mouth. He turned her body around, and her palms splayed against the window, leaving frantic, damp prints as she looked out at the distant, shimmering lights of the river.
Outside, the winter wind howled, whipping the first flakes of a blizzard against the building. Inside, the heat was suffocating, thick with the scent of his cologne and her perfume. Jiang Bin buried her face in the heavy velvet curtains, her fingers gripping the fabric to muffle the sounds she couldn't contain. Even though she knew the glass was one-way, the feeling of being so exposed—so utterly undone under his dominance—left her trembling.
Tang Zhisong was a wolf who had forgotten his gentleman’s manners. He hadn't even removed his shirt, and her gown was still tangled around her hips in a ruin of white silk, but his touch was everywhere. His hands anchored her waist, his grip bruisingly tight as he pushed himself deeper into her with a raw, unyielding hunger that felt as though it would unearth her very soul.
Eventually, the fire burned itself out. Jiang Bin collapsed with her back against his chest, her skin slick with sweat and her breaths coming in ragged, broken hitches. The cold, calculated persona was gone, replaced by a woman entirely spent. Tang Zhisong held her with a sudden, aching tenderness, using the hem of his own shirt to gently wipe the moisture from her brow. When her breathing finally steadied, he tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead.
"Shall I carry you to the bath?" he rasped, his voice still thick with a desire that hadn't quite faded.
"Mmh," was all she could manage, the sound vibrating in her throat as she leaned into his strength.
After a quick, quiet cleanup, Jiang Bin crawled into the expansive bed, her limbs feeling like lead. She was beyond exhausted, her body humming with a deep, bone-weary fatigue that made even the silk sheets feel heavy. Tang Zhisong joined her moments later. Instead of letting her retreat into sleep, he gently pulled her back from the covers, his fingers steady as he cleared the damp, tangled hair from her face.
He looked at her then—really looked at her. Without the armor of her makeup or the defiant glint of the "President Jiang" persona, she was startlingly real. The memory of her radiant performance on stage flashed through his mind; she had been so breathtaking under the spotlights, untouchable and brilliant. But here, in the soft glow of the bedside lamp, she was a woman he could finally reach. The contrast was too sharp, too beautiful to ignore, and he leaned down to capture her lips once more.
He was patient this time, his kiss slow and coaxing, a major shift from the raw hunger in the study. He lingered, tracing the curve of her mouth until Jiang Bin finally forced her eyes open. She looked up at him with a hazy, drunken gaze—drunken not from wine, but from the sheer intensity of him. She reached out, her fingers trembling slightly as they brushed the warm expanse of his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heart and the heat radiating from his skin.
"President Jiang wasn't quite this... compliant on stage," he teased, his voice a velvet shadow in the quiet room.
A ghost of a smile touched her lips as she found the strength to fire back. "And President Tang wasn't quite this passionate off-stage, either."
She remembered the screenshots her friends had sent—the images of Tang Zhisong sitting in the audience, looking cold, untouchable, and devastatingly handsome. He was a man of moonlight and frost, always in control.
But here, his eyes were dark with an emotion she couldn't quite name. If only, she thought, a sudden ache blooming in her chest, the words 'Wife, I love you' would fall from those lips. She wondered if the day would ever come when he truly fell for her.
Tang Zhisong looked deep into her eyes, which were as clear as a mountain spring even in her exhaustion. Seeing the flicker of vulnerability there, he felt a sudden, fierce urge to see them clouded with passion once more, to pull her back from the edge of sleep and keep her in his world just a little longer. He dipped his head, kissing her again with a quiet, total devotion, giving himself to her completely.
On Weibo, the fervor remained and their marriage became a 'super topic'. Disappointed by Tang Zhisong's silence, netizens continued to demand a divorce. Someone even started a "Daily Divorce Tracker" for the couple.
But inside Emerald Heights, the night was a masterpiece of intimacy. They both let go, indulging in each other until the first light of the New Year's holiday began to break.
As for that disastrous first date? By unspoken agreement, neither mentioned it. They were both treading carefully, cherishing the fragile peace they had finally built.
Chapter Notes:
- Weibo Super Topic (超话): A dedicated community page on Weibo for a specific celebrity or topic.
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