Chapter 107: You are not suitable with Ning Cai.

Ning Cai led Shen Xian out of the car. Before him rose a villa, rustic and grand, carrying the heavy weight of history.

The Ning family had served in politics for three generations. Ning Cai’s mother had worked in business for five generations, making her a true noble in the capital. Her father, Ning Zheng, held a high position; with the right momentum, he might even advance another rank.

It was only six in the morning, so the rest of the household still slept. Yet someone was already busy in the kitchen. Shen Xian surveyed the living room as they entered. The Chinese-style decor was not lavish, but it felt deeply rooted and unpretentious.

“Don’t look around,” Ning Cai said quietly. “This house has no extra features.”

She spoke as if telling a bad joke. Shen Xian smiled.

“Cai Cai, you’re back,” a middle-aged woman in her fifties or sixties emerged from the kitchen, still wearing an apron. Her face lit up with genuine delight at the sight of Ning Cai.

Ning Cai gave a small nod. “Xiaoma, I’m home.”

There was no smile on her face, yet her tone remained respectful. This was not her biological mother—Ning Zheng’s second wife—but Ning Cai called her Xiaoma all the same. Her own mother had passed away from illness ten years earlier.

“So this is little Shen?” Xiaoma studied Shen Xian with open appraisal, her smile warm and kindly.

Shen Xian bowed his head slightly. “Auntie, hello. My name is Shen Xian.”

Before returning, Ning Cai had already told her father and Xiaoma that she would bring her boyfriend home for the holiday. When she introduced him, Xiaoma’s eyes sparkled with surprise and unmistakable joy. She had always believed Ning Cai was troubled, mentally fragile, and disinclined toward men. Yet here was proof: Ning Cai had finally brought one home.

From the softness in Xiaoma’s gaze, it was clear she loved Ning Cai with her whole heart, without pretense.

“Where’s Dad?” Ning Cai asked.

“Still asleep,” Xiaoma replied, pouring Shen Xian a cup of hot tea while she spoke. “He got back at two this morning. These past two days have been exhausting.”

She handed the cup over. “Have some tea. Breakfast will be ready soon. Anything you can’t eat?”

Shen Xian rose to accept it. “I can eat anything. Thank you, Auntie.”

Xiaoma continued to examine him, liking what she saw more with each passing moment. Though she had lived in this house for barely ten years, she had long since come to regard Ning Cai as her own daughter.

“Auntie, go prepare breakfast first,” she told Xiaoma. “Sit for a moment.”

Not long afterward, a middle-aged man emerged from the bedroom, already neatly dressed. He appeared around sixty, yet his hair remained jet black and his build medium. He wore a black administrative jacket, his bearing strong and commanding. His eyes were calm, yet beneath that calm lay an exceptionally sharp intelligence. This was Ning Zheng, top leader of the Ministry of Culture and Tourism and Party secretary.

“You’re back?” Ning Zheng sat on the sofa without lifting his head, already absorbed in brewing tea. He did not even glance at Shen Xian. “Ning Cai, go help your Xiaoma.”

Ning Cai said nothing. She simply turned toward the kitchen.

The living room was left in silence between Shen Xian and Ning Zheng.

Ning Zheng tended to his tea with meticulous care: wiping the tea table, arranging the vessels, then finally preparing the leaves. The entire process took several minutes. Neither man spoke.

Shen Xian felt no unease. If not for the eight hundred million in the balance, he would not have come here today.

After a long pause, Ning Zheng finally raised his head and fixed Shen Xian with his calm gaze.

Shen Xian met that stare without flinching.

Some men carried an unmistakable official aura—one glance revealed them as insiders. Ning Zheng was precisely such a man.

“How long have you been seeing Ning Cai?” Ning Zheng asked.

“Recognized each other for a couple of years, but actually talking only recently,” Shen Xian answered.

Ning Zheng had long since reviewed Shen Xian’s file; nothing from his past could have hidden from him.

“Ning Cai is very intelligent, with a high IQ, yet she remains pure and untainted,” Ning Zheng continued, voice steady.

“I know,” Shen Xian replied.

“I understand your background. And you’ve seen our family’s situation for yourself.”

Shen Xian understood the meaning at once. This was a question of mismatched status.

“She opened that entertainment company against my wishes,” Ning Zheng said. “She’s still in her twenties. The civil service exam is still an option. My greatest hope is that she returns to official service. If she delays any longer, she’ll lose her chance.”

In Ning Zheng’s vision, Ning Cai should have graduated at twenty-one, entered service at twenty-two as a selected cadre—perhaps in an agricultural or transportation bureau at the county level—then advanced through the ranks: deputy township mayor by twenty-four, section-level cadre by twenty-eight, deputy bureau-level by thirty-three, deputy county magistrate by thirty-five, and so on, up to deputy ministerial rank around forty-eight or forty-nine.

With his own influence, he could have paved every step for her.

But now she was already twenty-five. Staying in Nanzhou would derail every plan. Promotions had age limits; work experience carried requirements. Any further delay would make it impossible—even for Ning Zheng himself—to salvage the future.

He was therefore delivering a clear warning to Shen Xian: do not hold back Ning Cai’s future.

With Shen Xian’s intellect, the implication was unmistakable.

Shen Xian smiled. “Secretary Ning, I believe you may have misjudged something. Paving the way for your children is admirable, but is this what she truly wants?”

“Whether she likes it or not, I am doing this for her sake—and for her children’s sake,” Ning Zheng replied. “Of course it looks like nepotism. But that is the way of the bureaucracy. The efforts of one generation are meant to give the next a running start.”

He fixed Shen Xian with his steady eyes. “Take you, for example. I hold no contempt for you. What can your children achieve? If they enter politics, with your energy they might reach section level, already surpassing most people. If they pursue business, building a fortune of tens of millions is possible. But you must understand—this is your ceiling. If you truly wish to secure your descendants’ future, you would even wish for their position to surpass mine.”

“Whether the children like it or not—is that important?” Ning Zheng asked, gaze piercing straight into Shen Xian’s soul.

Shen Xian knew the logic was sound, yet he could not remain silent. “Secretary Ning, every person’s life should hold meaning. What my children choose to do is theirs to decide. I will not interfere.”

“But what if they follow the path you’ve walked and fall in love with someone like you?” Ning Zheng’s tone carried unmistakable mockery. “Would you be willing?”

Shen Xian fell silent.

He did not want his own children to endure the same experiences he had.

He did not want them to fall in love with men like him.

He could not refute the point.

“Therefore, return tomorrow,” Ning Zheng concluded. “You and Ning Cai are simply not suited. If you ever need help in the future, call me. I will assist once.”