Chapter 33 — The Morning Sun Rises in the East

“Mr. Nan, please take a look over here… This area features newly introduced high-end men’s brands, including French bespoke collections and the Enjoy brand, renowned as the ‘private wardrobe’…” Director Wang from the Merchandising Department was introducing the section with utmost courtesy.

Nan Si, twenty-eight years old, was the President and General Manager of Randong Group.

Randong Group had started in real estate, gradually expanding into multiple industries, and was now one of the few large-scale family enterprises in the country.

Ordinarily, matters like new brand introductions in their malls were far beneath his notice. But since he was here, and it happened to be the golden week of consumer spending, he thought it wouldn’t hurt to wander about. Besides, the old man’s birthday was approaching, and he could conveniently pick out a decent gift.

“Enjoy…”

Nan Si lifted his gaze, eyeing the business suit worn by the mannequin behind the glass window, and remarked, “This one is quite good.”

“You have excellent taste, Mr. Nan… This suit reportedly debuted at Milan Fashion Week and is a limited edition, handcrafted and bespoke…” Director Wang continued, smiling eagerly.

“Handcrafted and bespoke?”

Nan Si frowned thoughtfully. “That sounds troublesome… Do our Hong Kong malls carry this brand?”

“Yes!” responded Xia Bin, his special assistant, who had been following closely. “It was introduced to Randong Group three years ago and is available at Huayou Tower, our Hong Kong branch.”

Nan Si nodded with slight satisfaction and instructed, “Have them go to the old man and take his measurements. Don’t tell him about the style yet, just say it’s a surprise from me.”

“Understood,” Xia Bin replied simply.

Trailing behind Nan Si were six or seven executives, all senior management of the mall. It was the peak hour, bustling with crowds, so he lost the urge to continue his inspection.

“That’s enough for today. Don’t disturb the customers,” Nan Si said, glancing back at the group of middle-aged men in identical black suits—it gave him the odd impression of being the head of a crime syndicate.

“Of course. Shall I have someone escort you back to the hotel? Are you staying at the PJ Hotel?” The mall’s general manager, also following closely, asked at the opportune moment.

PJ—Perfect Journey, a five-star resort hotel, was another nationwide enterprise under Randong Group.

“No need. We’ll return on our own,” Nan Si declined coldly, not out of politeness, but from genuine impatience with these older men bowing their heads to speak with him.

“Very well…” The older man forced a stiff smile. “Should you have any instructions or work-related directives, please let us know at any time so we can adjust promptly.”

“That’s enough. You may all leave,” Xia Bin noticed Nan Si’s expression grew colder and took the initiative to speak to the older man, “If anything comes up, I’ll contact you. Take care.”

The old man paused, inwardly grumbling, “This young heir certainly has presence—even his assistant speaks with such authority!” But he only dared to think so, and then hurriedly led his subordinates away.

“Mr. Nan, the first floor is the jewelry section,” Xia Bin reminded succinctly once the crowd dispersed.

“I know. Why?” Nan Si frowned, turning to look at him. Though his face was expressionless, the chill in his eyes betrayed his displeasure.

“Ahem…” Xia Bin lowered his gaze, bracing himself, and said, “Miss Yang’s birthday is in three days. The old man wishes for you to select a gift and deliver it to her residence personally…”

Nan Si, amused, studied Xia Bin’s earnest demeanor and replied slowly, “Xia Bin, have you noticed you’re becoming more like my father’s assistant? Wherever I go, you relay his instructions exactly.”

Xia Bin remained silent, his prematurely aged manner not by choice but by necessity. Coupled with his gold-rimmed glasses, he resembled a young gentleman from a bygone era, forced into marriage by his parents upon returning from overseas.

“Since Miss Yang returned, the old man has arranged several meetings with you. Now that you’re in Shanghai, avoiding her again wouldn’t look good,” Xia Bin reasoned, thinking it best to clarify the situation.

“I’m not interested,” Nan Si retorted, unwilling to waste time on trivial matters. “Since you’re so concerned, you choose a gift and send it—whether by mail or in person, I don’t care.”

“Mr. Nan…” Xia Bin started to speak, but Nan Si had already moved away.

He was looking for the escalator when he noticed a crowd ahead, within which the faint sound of a child crying could be heard amidst the chatter.

Nan Si was not one for meddling or joining crowds, so he intended to pass by, when he heard a weak, aggrieved child’s voice break through, intermittently sobbing, “My name is Ranran… I… I’m Ranran… My mother’s name is Xiaowen…”

Nan Si stopped abruptly, nearly causing Xia Bin behind him to crash into his back.

Ran?

“Mr. Nan?” Xia Bin questioned Nan Si’s sudden action, only to see him approach the crowd.

Tall and dignified, Nan Si’s mere presence caused the crowd to part naturally, creating a gap.

He saw immediately, standing in the center, a little girl in a pink dress with twin braids, round eyes, a broad forehead with a widow’s peak, her face streaked with tears—Ranran.

At the same moment, Ranran saw the uncle with thick eyebrows just like hers, a high forehead with the same little peak in the middle.

A powerful, inexplicable shock made her forget her tears, her fear, and the fact she was searching for her mother.

She stared, transfixed, at Nan Si.

“Is this your child?” Among the crowd, a middle-aged woman with a loud voice called out, seeing Nan Si’s gaze fixed on Ranran. “How could you neglect such a young child? It’s dangerous!”

“Exactly, so irresponsible…”

“Is she really his child? Are you sure?”

“How could she not be? They look identical, as if cut from the same mold…”

“How careless! What if there were kidnappers… tsk tsk…”

Amidst the talk, the crowd dispersed.

Nan Si looked at the still dazed Ranran, crouched down, and as he carefully traced her features with his eyes, he heard his own voice ask, so softly it was barely audible, “Little one, what’s your name?”

The tears on Ranran’s cheeks were drying, leaving a tight discomfort. She wiped away the traces and replied obediently, “Ranran… Like ‘the rising sun, Ranran emerges from the east!’”

Xia Bin, now utterly stunned, stood silent behind Nan Si, who, half-crouched, was visibly shaken, murmuring in a daze, “‘The rising sun, Ranran emerges from the east…’”