Since it was a private banquet, the atmosphere was much more relaxed — none of the usual pomp and circumstance seen in movies. Still, among the guests, Jiang Chen was the only one strolling in wearing casual clothes. But you couldn't really blame him for looking out of place — he was on vacation, after all. Who brings a suit and tie to the beach?
Elegant piano music played from a small stage at the front of the restaurant. Celebrities and elites, wine glasses in hand, mingled in clusters, searching for like-minded companions to network with. But Jiang Chen stood out — a lone figure wandering along the edges of the venue, drifting around the lavish buffet tables without a care in the world. Whether it was dancing or socializing, none of it interested him.
Mm, this steak is freaking amazing...
Chewing slowly and gracefully, Jiang Chen nodded with satisfaction. After swallowing, he even wiped his mouth with a napkin like a gentleman. Sure, he was a foodie, but you still had to maintain your image. Otherwise, the security guards might actually think about kicking him out...
Swirling the red wine in his glass, Jiang Chen cast a glance toward the center of the room — where the hosts of the banquet were seated.
Tsk tsk. You really couldn't deny it — those Arab tycoons had money. Just the diamond hanging from the elegant princess's neck was blinding. Jiang Chen couldn't guess its price, but judging by its size, it was easily worth hundreds of millions — in USD.
The prince standing beside her was quite handsome too, though Jiang Chen didn't care much for men, so he didn't pay attention. Flanking the couple were weapons magnates and oil tycoons. A few Asian faces mingled in as well, though Jiang Chen couldn't quite pin down their nationalities.
The rest of the elite guests gathered in small groups, radiating outward from the stage. Jiang Chen even recognized a few familiar faces — that pop diva, and the bald guy from Fast & Furious, for instance. Seeing so many celebs up close surprised him a bit, but he wasn't a fanboy, so he didn't bother with autographs.
"Prince Nayef, may I ask why you chose to host this lovely celebration for your princess here in the mysterious East?"
"Hahaha, I just like it here. Last time was in Hawaii, but the scenery here is just as beautiful — and there aren't as many annoying reporters."
Reporters did exist… they just weren't allowed anywhere near the venue. Chinese authorities had already "invited" them to discuss passport issues, documentation, and other delightful procedures. No matter how much those foreign cameramen screamed, they weren't getting in.
The question wasn't whether your story was important — it was whether you could prove your identity.
Welcome to China — where money sometimes works better than it does in the West.
In Hawaii, Prince Nayef had to bribe the mob and buy off cops to keep things quiet. But here?
One-stop privacy protection. That kind of convenience thrilled the rich prince — and it was precisely this airtight discretion that gave his high-profile friends the confidence to fly halfway around the world to join him.
While he had indeed invited all "qualified" hotel guests, not everyone at this banquet was staying here — for example, the oil tycoon currently chatting with him.
Ironically, several socialites had booked luxury suites just to get into this banquet and rub shoulders with the upper crust.
Jiang Chen was actually pretty lucky to snag the top-tier beach villa — he had no idea some Middle Eastern oil prince was throwing a party when he made the booking.
"Mr. Aurora, would you be interested in five oil tankers loaded to the brim?"
"Of course I am! My babies burn through the stuff like it's water. Haha! Mr. Zahar, why don't we discuss this further in private?"
"The pleasure would be mine."
Every few minutes, a deal was being struck. Jiang Chen couldn't help but marvel at the scene — while others sealed multi-million-dollar contracts, he was over here… munching on salmon.
Around him, a few Chinese businesspeople chatted about market trends, discreet dealings, and even gossip. Jiang Chen overheard quite a few jaw-dropping conversations.
Honestly, it blew his mind… though, come to think of it, it wasn't that surprising.
This was not a place where reporters were welcome.
"A5 Kobe tenderloin. Good stuff."
"Hmm, not bad at all…"
Jiang Chen raised an eyebrow, surprised at the foreigner sitting across from him — a burly white man who had struck up a conversation.
"Just that one piece costs $300. Watching you eat like this is almost painful," the man chuckled, his neatly trimmed hair and stubble giving him a rugged but polished look. His perfect Mandarin was so good that Jiang Chen almost thought he was Chinese in disguise.
"How'd you know I'm Chinese?" Jiang Chen asked, curious. Honestly, even he couldn't tell the difference between Chinese, Korean, or Japanese if someone didn't speak.
"I have a knack for reading people. Name's Bruce Miller," the man smiled, extending a hand.
Because you're the only guy here eating like a bottomless pit… Bruce thought privately.
Jiang Chen returned the handshake with a polite smile.
"Jiang Chen," he replied.
You're definitely up to something, Jiang Chen thought to himself.
His instincts told him this guy wasn't simple. Not "rich" — that was a given in this place. But dangerous.
Bruce gave off that faint aura of blood and violence — something only seen in those who had brushed shoulders with death. It made Jiang Chen a bit wary. What did this guy want from him?
"Relax," Bruce smiled, sensing Jiang Chen's guarded look. "Just saw a fellow professional — couldn't resist saying hi."
Wait, what?
Jiang Chen nearly laughed. He thought I was one of them?
"Oh? Is it that obvious?" Jiang Chen raised an eyebrow, playing along.
"Didn't you notice the security guards at the entrance? They've been watching you." Bruce took a sip of wine and spoke casually.
Watching me?
Jiang Chen stole a glance toward the sunglasses-wearing guards by the door. Their bulky, intimidating presence certainly looked serious.
He couldn't tell where their eyes were looking under those shades, and had no clue how Bruce had picked up on it. Still, he calmly took a sip of wine.
"You're joking, Bruce. I'm just a regular guy here for a vacation." Jiang Chen's voice was calm and unbothered.
Bruce visibly relaxed at Jiang Chen's answer. As a mercenary, he normally wouldn't have access to an event like this. But since his team was handling Prince Nayef's security, he was granted special entry.
When he first arrived, Jiang Chen's laid-back yet dangerous presence had caught his eye. He looked harmless, but something about him screamed "killer."
Bruce's instincts whispered something absurd: If we fought, I'd probably lose.
If Jiang Chen had heard that, he'd have laughed and said, "Probably? Try definitely."
In raw speed and power, Bruce didn't stand a chance.
But watching Jiang Chen wander from dish to dish, happily gorging himself, Bruce had started to doubt his instincts.
Maybe he really was just… a fellow food-loving mercenary?
After a quick consult with his team, Bruce decided to approach and probe further.
"That's good then. Enjoy your meal," Bruce raised his glass to Jiang Chen.
He didn't leave right away — they chatted casually. Jiang Chen had nothing better to do, and he was a bit curious about the life of foreign mercenaries, so he played along.
"…So we were escorting a government official to the front line in Ukraine, and boom — ambush. Probably Russians. Heavy firepower. We had to hole up in a building until the tanks arrived…" Bruce was clearly in his element, wine in hand and eyes glowing.
Bruce didn't hold much back. Jiang Chen learned that he worked for Blackwater International, mainly handling overseas missions. A hardened veteran, Bruce had once fought in Iraq before joining Blackwater post-war.
"Now that I've shared, Mr. Jiang, how about you? I'm curious — my salary doesn't come close to affording a beachfront villa like yours."
"Money's meant to be spent, not buried with you." Jiang Chen chuckled, cutting into his third steak.
"Forgive me — if your business is private, no need to answer," Bruce said politely, shoveling chicken into his mouth with the grace of a food critic.
"It's nothing sensitive. Let's just say… I deal in gold." Jiang Chen sipped his wine, speaking with deliberate mystery.
"Oh? Based in South Africa, then? Great place for that."
"Nope — Asia."
That caught Bruce off guard.
"Pardon me, but I didn't think Asia was a hot zone. What kind of gold trade can you do there?"
"Oh, you'd be surprised. Borderlands are full of deals. We settle in gold." Jiang Chen tossed out a vague line.
Bruce smiled, not pressing further. With so many shady figures in the room — drug lords, arms dealers, FBI agents playing dumb — asking too many questions wasn't smart. There were even private rooms nearby for closed-door negotiations.
The banquet eventually wound down. After Prince Nayef delivered a touching toast to his princess, the crowd began to disperse.
Before leaving, Bruce handed Jiang Chen a business card and took his leave.
He'd mostly been monitoring Jiang Chen — but now that the party was over, so was his task.
Jiang Chen glanced at the card, then casually slipped it into his pocket.
Chances were, their paths wouldn't cross again. Jiang Chen had no intention of stirring up trouble on this side of the world. Still — it never hurt to have connections.