They had waited a little over ten minutes in the business aviation terminal lounge when a staff member came to invite Tan Xiao and Lawyer Hua to board.
Private jets were not toys for the wealthy. Making travel more comfortable was only one purpose. More importantly, they served as a family enterprise’s time machine. Spending a fortune each year to maintain a fleet of business aircraft was about achieving efficiencies commercial airlines simply could not offer. Fundamentally, they were tools of productivity.
Zhang Xingchuan accompanied them to the foot of the boarding stairs. Tan Xiao teased him, “Don’t you want to come up and have a look? You’ll never get another chance.”
Now that departure was upon him, Tan Xiao was beginning to feel uneasy. He did not want to show it. Zhang Xingchuan was already worried enough.
Zhang Xingchuan had no curiosity about the plane. Looking at Tan Xiao’s thin jacket, he said, “I forgot to tell you to change into a heavier coat before we left. Geneva should be colder than Beijing.”
Tan Xiao could not think of anything to say. He just stared at Zhang Xingchuan without blinking.
Suddenly, he did not want to leave. On the day of the first snowfall, who went gallivanting abroad? They ought to be having hotpot together as a family. Once the elders had gone to bed, he would turn the heat in their room all the way up, drink an ice-cold can of Coke, and have the hottest possible romance with Zhang Xingchuan.
Seeing their expressions, Lawyer Hua said to Tan Xiao, “We’ll go up and wait for you.”
She and her assistant climbed the stairs. The blond, blue-eyed cabin attendant bowed politely in greeting at the doorway. Not only did she speak fluent Mandarin, she even switched to Cantonese when she heard the assistant’s Cantonese accent.
Beneath the stairs, Tan Xiao said, “I’ll come back as soon as I’ve signed… Though I’ll have to book my own return ticket on the WenCheng app.”
“If your family won’t let you come back,” Zhang Xingchuan suddenly said, “I’ll come and get you.”
Tan Xiao jumped. “Surely not. What use would they have for keeping me?”
“I don’t know,” Zhang Xingchuan said. “But I think it’s possible.”
“Then why didn’t you say anything at home?”
“Would you have decided not to go if I had?” Zhang Xingchuan asked. “Even if you don’t go today, you’ll have to go eventually. Sooner or later, you have to sign that document, unless you change your mind and decide you still want to be a young master.”
That was true. Tan Xiao could not argue.
He had never considered that his family might detain him. Ever since he had asked to come to China as a schoolboy, nobody had ever truly prevented him. If his mother had not fought so hard for him back then, the Doria family would never have needed him in the first place.
He had imagined the greatest difficulty in Geneva would be Tan Yun putting obstacles in his way. She probably would not let him sign quite so easily. She might make him pay for being “disobedient.” Tan Yun was no delicate little queen; she was a ruthless woman who never forgot a slight. He had challenged the queen’s authority, and punishment was inevitable. He had always known that.
As for what form that punishment might take, he could not quite guess. Perhaps physical violence, like having him beaten a few times?
Or perhaps she would strip him of all his possessions and control over his finances, leaving him wandering Geneva’s streets like a beggar. That would be miserable too.
But this was the modern world. Even if he suffered a little, there were plenty of ways to get back.
Could they really detain him?
Zhang Xingchuan’s fears were far darker than Tan Xiao’s.
Zhou Ruofei had once told Zhang Xingchuan that after Tan Yun truly took power, she might make Tan Xiao her first heir.
Yet there was no conceivable way Tan Xiao himself could become head of the Doria family. From every possible angle, a young man who had taken Chinese nationality and looked Chinese would never be accepted by the Dorias.
Either Zhou Ruofei had been talking nonsense, or Tan Yun had something else in mind. What she wanted might not be Tan Xiao inheriting the commercial empire at all. It might be his marriage, his children, or both. That was the likeliest possibility.
If the premise was true, if Zhou Ruofei had not lied, then Tan Yun detaining Tan Xiao was highly probable.
Zhang Xingchuan had never mentioned this to Tan Xiao or shared his bleak conjecture. To Tan Xiao, it would be a horror story.
He had realized how genuine Tan Xiao’s feelings for Tan Yun were. She was a sister he had loved, and for a time during his childhood she had even played something resembling a mother’s role.
“Of course, it might not happen,” Zhang Xingchuan said. “Try not to go anywhere without Senior Sister Hua. If something comes up, discuss it with her.”
“All right,” Tan Xiao said.
They embraced goodbye. Zhang Xingchuan noticed the smiling cabin attendant still waiting at the top of the stairs. He was not yet comfortable being so affectionate in front of strangers, so he gave Tan Xiao a brief hug and tried to let go. Tan Xiao held on tightly.
“What is it?” Zhang Xingchuan patted his back and asked softly. “Don’t tell me you’re frightened.”
Tan Xiao whispered into his ear, “Gege, if I really can’t come back…”
Zhang Xingchuan’s heart lurched. For a moment, he wanted to give up. His resolve faltered. He wanted to tell Tan Xiao not to sign anything and just let life carry on in a muddle. So many people lived in blissful ignorance and were perfectly fine. Why did his Tan Xiao have to insist on understanding every last thing?
“You have to come and find me.” But Tan Xiao was not making a pessimistic farewell. “You know the story of Rapunzel, right? If my sister really goes crazy and locks me up, I’ll be trapped in a tower. I’ll try everything I can to get down, but I’m kind of fragile. I might be able to escape by myself, but I could break a leg doing it. You and Lawyer Hua have to help me put up a ladder.”
He climbed the stairs. Before stepping through the cabin door, he looked back at Zhang Xingchuan. Zhang Xingchuan waved. Tan Xiao took a deep breath and entered the plane.
The flight would take about eleven hours. Tan Xiao gave the aircraft’s bedroom to Lawyer Hua and her assistant, who was also a woman, so they could rest on the bed inside.
He reclined his seat, wrapped himself in a blanket, and chatted with Zhang Xingchuan on WeChat. The onboard internet was quite stable.
Neither of them mentioned what might happen once Tan Xiao arrived in Geneva. Instead they talked about ordinary things couples talked about, sweet, lighthearted exchanges, as though Tan Xiao were simply going home for a routine visit.
At the same time, Zhang Xingchuan was on the phone with Secretary Feng.
A few months earlier, M Hotel Group had unilaterally terminated its contract with WenCheng. Although the incident had been resolved satisfactorily on the surface, M Group had come under public criticism for its contempt for the Chinese market and had been forced to apologize and make a conciliatory settlement. But the arrogance of a major international corporation was not easily changed. It was still withholding the deposits and operating funds WenCheng had paid in advance. WenCheng’s legal team had been working on several fronts and originally planned to begin settlement negotiations this quarter.
Tan Xiao messaged Zhang Xingchuan on WeChat: Are you going to sleep? I’m getting sleepy.
Zhang Xingchuan replied: Then get some sleep. Message me whenever you miss me.
“Start the negotiations now,” Zhang Xingchuan told Secretary Feng on the phone. “I’m going to Europe. I’ll handle the negotiations myself. I’m going to collect the money those deadbeats owe us.”
Secretary Feng was dumbfounded. He had no idea what was going on.
In the months he had served as Zhang Xingchuan’s secretary, he had almost never received a call from the president outside working hours. Apparently, when the man finally did call, he made it count. Was he really making a decision this important so late at night? Was he seriously going to launch an undertaking on this scale?
“Why does it have to be right now?” Feng asked. “Can’t we wait until tomorrow and discuss it with Legal? And surely you don’t have to go in person.”
“Now. We have to do it now. Get me an invitation to the settlement negotiations as quickly as possible. I need to apply for an expedited Schengen visa.”
Going abroad to collect a debt from that shameless hotel group was only the means. His real goal was to secure a visa quickly. The ordinary application process took at least fifteen days. That was too long. With a documented urgent business purpose and the necessary paperwork, he could use an expedited channel and get a visa in three to five working days.
The plane passed through a deep ocean of clouds, and Tan Xiao slept for a while.
He dreamed of Zhang Xingchuan. In the dream, the two of them had traveled to Europe together on business, to Rome. After work, he took Zhang Xingchuan to his favorite local restaurant and shared the truffle pasta he loved. In the dream, matching rings gleamed on their ring fingers.
At Fassi 1880, he made Zhang Xingchuan queue for ice cream while he idled outside the crowd. A girl in a T-shirt and jeans passed by, and Tan Xiao accidentally bumped into her. They politely apologized to each other. Zhang Xingchuan returned with two ice creams, and Tan Xiao offered one to the girl as an apology. She noticed their rings and smiled as she wished them happiness.
Turbulence woke Tan Xiao. The attendant immediately came to ask whether he needed anything, and he requested a glass of water.
The cabin lights brightened a little. After drinking the water, Tan Xiao stared absently into the darkness outside the window.
He remembered the Roman holiday he and Zhang Xingchuan had shared in his dream.
He also remembered the girl who had blessed them. They had been strangers in the dream, but she had unmistakably been the Tan Yun of her student days, the sister he remembered.
Suddenly, he wanted ice cream. He messaged Zhang Xingchuan: I want pistachio gelato.
Beijing was still asleep. Zhang Xingchuan, who had stayed up half the night, had only recently fallen asleep and did not reply immediately.
Tan Xiao saw the boundary between night and day. A silver rim as fine as a strand of hair appeared on the eastern horizon, then spread like watercolor into a delicate wash of orange as the darkness gradually faded beyond the window. It meant they would soon be flying over the European continent.
At around six in the morning Beijing time, deep in the Geneva night, the business jet landed at Geneva International Airport almost an hour ahead of its estimated arrival.
At seven, Zhang Xingchuan woke and saw Tan Xiao’s adorable wish for ice cream.
He replied: Just woke up. Have you landed?
Tan Xiao did not answer. Zhang Xingchuan checked the time and assumed he was disembarking or leaving the airport, too busy to reply for the moment.
Ten minutes later, something began to feel wrong. He called Tan Xiao and Lawyer Hua separately. Neither answered.
Refusing to give up, he called Lawyer Hua again. Thankfully, she answered this time.
“Don’t say anything yet. Listen to me,” Lawyer Hua said. “As soon as we got off the plane, we were taken to the office of the law firm acting as trustee for the trust fund. Tan Xiao has signed. The agreement waiving his beneficial interest in the trust is legally valid and takes effect immediately.”
“Is he with you?”
“That’s what I’m about to tell you,” Lawyer Hua said. “Under trust law, the trustee’s firm should send the signed agreement to his family, but his family sent someone to receive it in person.”
After Tan Xiao signed, the person in charge at the trustee’s law firm mechanically explained that they were required to report the agreement to their employer, the Doria family. Lawyer Hua agreed that this was proper. Just then, someone arrived at the office.
“His sister sent people,” Lawyer Hua said. “They took the agreement and Tan Xiao away together.”
Zhang Xingchuan let out a long, slow breath. The other shoe had finally dropped.
“Centuries have passed, and they’re still this barbaric,” Lawyer Hua said.
“Senior Sister,” Zhang Xingchuan said, impressed in spite of himself by her composure, “what are you planning to do next?”
“I’m not licensed to practice here. I’ve contacted a Geneva law firm we’ve worked with before. I need a local lawyer to assist me.”
“Fine. As long as you protect your own safety, I authorize you to do whatever you can, to the fullest extent possible. We can draw up the contract when you get back. Name your price.”
“Naturally,” Lawyer Hua said. “I’ll charge you an outrageous fee.”
“The earliest I can get there is Friday,” Zhang Xingchuan said.
“That’s already very efficient,” Lawyer Hua replied. “It’s almost midnight here. First thing tomorrow morning, I’ll take the local lawyer to confront the Dorias. We’ll find out then whether they really intend to place my client under house arrest.”
Tan Xiao had been to Geneva only twice. As a child, he had been brought back to Europe and lived first in Italy and then Germany. During later summer and winter holidays, he still spent most of his time in Germany. Once he entered university, his visits to Europe dwindled, and he deliberately avoided Geneva because the shipping company was headquartered there… At last, the origins of his determination to be a salted fish rather than work had been uncovered.
Deep in the night, he was brought to an estate on the lakeshore in Cologny. No one spoke to him the entire way. The car drove along a private road, iron gates opened soundlessly, and two rows of neatly trimmed plane trees stood beyond them. Built in 1919, the estate occupied more than three thousand square meters, with a private pier, a century-old garden, more than a dozen en-suite bedrooms, and windows overlooking Mont Blanc.
The last time Tan Xiao had been here, he was still in middle school. Tan Minhong had been head of the family then. Tan Xiao had befriended a young gardener, and one day, while they were playing together, Tan Minhong happened to see them. He summoned Tan Xiao to his study and gave him a scolding. Tan Yun was the one who came to his rescue.
Back then, Tan Yun had only recently joined the shipping company and had not yet gone through her arranged marriage. Now she was mistress of both the company and the estate.
A middle-aged man dressed like a butler led Tan Xiao into a bedroom suite. It was the room he had stayed in during a visit many years before.
In English, he asked the butler, “Where’s my sister? Isn’t she going to see me today?”
The man merely bowed, withdrew, and closed the door.
Tan Xiao’s phone had been confiscated at the law firm. He looked around the room. There was no landline and no fax machine. The door and windows were not locked, but he knew he could not get out.
The sheer old-fashioned absurdity of it almost made him laugh in anger. Had he really turned into Rapunzel?