"Murong Da Meinv, I've missed you so much! Do you still remember me? I'm Little Fatty! You're really something else. You haven't attended a single class reunion since we graduated five years ago. We'd almost forgotten what you look like!"

Just then, a group of six or seven smartly dressed young people in their twenties gathered around. One of them, a rather short and chubby man, was shouting in an exaggerated and excited manner.

"Out of the way! Shanshan is our school's belle, not some mere 'class beauty.' Can't you even talk right?" Another man, who was tall and brawny but also a bit chubby, shoved the first one aside and squeezed his way to the front. He exclaimed dramatically to Murong Shan, "School Belle! Shanshan, do you remember me? I'm Fatty, the one who sat behind you for all four years of university!"

As he spoke, he even spread his arms wide for a hug.

"You two damn fatties, get lost." To everyone's surprise, Murong Shan simply linked her arm warmly through Chen Fei's. She gave the two men a look of mock disgust, her lips pouting like a little bun. "You two dare to show your faces in front of me again? You were so naughty back then, always messing with my hair during class so I couldn't focus on the lectures. Hmph, I'm ignoring you."

Although Murong Shan's words were chiding, anyone could hear the excitement and affection in her tone. Back in school, it was these two clowns "annoying" her every day that had added so much joy to her life. They were the only memory she wanted to reminisce about from those otherwise unremarkable years. Back then, their relationship had been excellent.

"Wow, so this must be our Murong Da Xiaohua's boyfriend! He's incredibly handsome, just a tiny bit less so than me," Little Fatty chimed in, squeezing his way back to the front with an exaggerated, cheerful laugh.

"Get outta here! Just look at that ugly mug of yours. If you're going to compare, he's obviously just a tiny bit less handsome than me, right, Shanshan Da Meinv?" Fatty once again used brute force to shove Little Fatty to the back, his expression comically theatrical.

"Alright, you two, aren't you worried Shanshan is sick of you? It's been so many years since graduation, and you're still as silly as you were in school," Li Yumin said, a smile on her face that didn't quite reach her eyes. She felt a sour twist in her heart.

She then couldn't resist adding a sarcastic jab. "Shanshan, you're not playing fair. Aren't you going to introduce your boyfriend to your old classmates? And you, sir, you have excellent taste. Our Shanshan is a great beauty, but if you want to provide for her, you'd better be mentally prepared."

Mentally prepared? For what? It was obvious she believed Chen Fei couldn't possibly afford to support a high-class beauty like Murong Shan. Her sarcastic comment was a thinly veiled insult, implying that Murong Shan had poor taste for choosing a boyfriend who couldn't provide for her—killing two birds with one stone.

"I'm sorry, Miss Li, but that's none of your concern. I'm a practitioner of traditional Chinese medicine, and I believe I'm perfectly capable of providing for Shanshan," Chen Fei replied coolly.

"Traditional Chinese medicine?" Hearing this, a disdainful smirk touched Li Yumin's lips. She said mockingly, "Oh, so you practice traditional medicine? Where do you work? The salary must be quite low, right?"

Traditional medicine? It's already obsolete in Huaxia and completely looked down upon. Besides, this kid is so young... Heh, so he's just some nobody after all.

"Miss Li, are you looking down on traditional Chinese medicine?" Chen Fei asked, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"Not looking down on it, just stating facts. Traditional medicine is what it is, after all," Li Yumin replied with a dismissive shrug.

"Oh, is that so?"

"Secretary Zheng, Mr. Tucci, please, this way. This is where my daughter is hosting her party."

At that moment, a middle-aged man with an obviously fawning expression led a blond foreigner into the hall. Following them were several foreign bodyguards in black suits with sharp, watchful eyes, as well as a distinguished-looking middle-aged man with a square face, also in a suit.

"Mr. Tucci has arrived."

The moment Li Yumin saw them enter, her eyes lit up. Forgetting all about her quarrel with Chen Fei and Murong Shan, she gathered the hem of her evening gown and hurried over to greet them. The vast majority of the other guests watched her go with unconcealed envy. At that moment, it didn't matter how unpleasant her personality was. They had all studied design, so they knew exactly who Mr. Tucci was: one of Italy's most outstanding contemporary designers, a man of extremely high status and immense influence in the international fashion world.

To think she could personally receive such an important figure... it was truly, deeply enviable.

Only Chen Fei wore a strange expression. If he wasn't mistaken, the blond foreigner was the very same man who had suffered a sudden heart attack in the Library of Northern Mountain University and been saved by him. The bodyguards and the government official-looking man had been there that day as well.

Italy is renowned as the vanguard of global fashion and a hub of art and culture. It is the highest temple for artistic pursuits, the capital of fashion, and home to numerous world-famous luxury brands like Saint Laurent, Armani, Gucci, Barolo, and so on. Its influence is massive, particularly among high-end consumers, who are its primary focus.

This time, Murong Shan's fashion company had bet heavily on a new product line targeting this exact high-end demographic. If the Saint Laurent Group hadn't suddenly and inexplicably arrived in Jiangnan Province to conduct on-site inspections and seek partnerships, her new launch might have been the turning point for her company's rise, with products selling out.

But reality offers no what-ifs.

The top luxury group from Milan, Italy, the epicenter of world fashion, had suddenly entered the Jiangnan Province of Huaxia market like a behemoth. In an instant, all the marketing effects and painstaking effort Murong Shan had poured into her launch were washed away. Her company was like a small boat in a raging storm, which everyone expected to be submerged at any moment. Even Murong Shan herself had lost all confidence.

This was the reason her mood had been so unstable and her spirits so low all evening.

Perhaps it wouldn't be long now. The fashion company she had built from the ground up, the one that held all her effort and conviction, would go bankrupt and fade from public memory.

"My dear old classmates, please allow me the honor of introducing Mr. Jemio from the Saint Laurent Group in Milan, Italy," Li Yumin announced, having unexpectedly returned. She was now accompanied by a tall, blond-haired, blue-eyed foreigner who carried himself with an air of extreme arrogance, as if pride was woven into his very bones. "He's Mr. Tucci's nephew, and he is also here in our province to conduct on-site inspections and seek potential partnerships."

"Hello, beautiful lady. May I have the pleasure of getting to know you? I am Jemio, from Italy. Oh, you are truly magnificent! Thank God," the foreigner, Jemio, said, completely ignoring everyone else in the room. His eyes lit up as he stared directly at Murong Shan, his intentions obvious.

The expressions on the faces of the other alumni soured. They could all sense Jemio's blatant condescension; he didn't give them a second glance. However, he arguably had the right to be so arrogant. His uncle was Tucci, one of Italy's most brilliant contemporary designers—a man from a completely different world than theirs.

Murong Shan, however, disliked this foreigner instantly. His gaze was too naked, too predatory. It was repulsive.

"Mr. Jemio, isn't it a bit rude to show up and stare at my girlfriend like that?" Just then, Chen Fei stepped forward, a faint smile on his face as he met the man's gaze. Since the man could speak Chinese, he surely understood it too.

At Chen Fei's action, the expressions of many onlookers flickered with alarm. Firstly, while Chen Fei's height of 1.8 meters was respectable in their country, Jemio was clearly at least 1.9 meters tall. He towered over Chen Fei by a full head, creating a natural disadvantage that made Chen Fei seem less imposing.

Secondly, the man's connections were simply too formidable. He was the nephew of Mr. Tucci, one of Italy's greatest modern designers—a truly extraordinary status. Furthermore, he was here representing the Saint Laurent Group from Italy on an official inspection tour of Jiangnan Province and Northern Mountain City to find a business partner. Simply for that reason alone, the government officials in charge of attracting foreign investment would never allow such 'distinguished guests' to feel slighted in any way.

If this investment deal could be secured, it would be an incredibly brilliant addition to their career records. It represented astonishing value and was a crucial stepping stone for their future promotions and advancement up the ladder. Therefore, they would absolutely not tolerate anyone jeopardizing it.

So, when Li Yumin saw Chen Fei dare to speak to Jemio in such a manner, her expression changed instantly. She turned to Chen Fei and snapped, her tone exceedingly harsh, "Mr. Chen, do you have any idea who you're talking to? Mr. Jemio is one of the key figures in charge of this investment inspection. His opinion can directly influence the final evaluation. Do you understand what that means? This is a cooperative project worth tens, or even hundreds of millions of yuan! If anything goes wrong, can you possibly bear the responsibility?"

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