Gu Zhaoping wasn’t interested in this person, but she was quite intrigued by skiing.
Her brows slightly arched.
If she could understand that the previous conversation was because this person came to talk to her for the sake of his brother Valentine, then now she was a bit puzzled about what his intention was in making this request.
She asked,
“Will Valentine be joining us?”
Theodore stared at her, then glanced sideways, seemingly smiling, and said,
“No, he won’t.”
Now Gu Zhaoping could only quietly observe him, trying to discern some of his intentions from his expression.
“Purely on my personal behalf, I’m inviting Miss Gu to go skiing. I wonder if Miss Gu is interested?”
“You’ll need to answer me first. I’ll be attending the forum in a few days, so will you be there to listen and agree to a bet with me?”
His tone was very calm, not swayed by her at all.
This was the first time since Theodore became an adult that he didn’t control the conversation.
He had met many strong people, and even more who were both strong and clever, but someone like Gu Zhaoping was a first—strong, clever, and disregarding social conventions.
There was something peculiar about her presence.
Theodore always felt something odd when looking at Gu Zhaoping; her image and aura didn’t match her status, as if she were forged on a higher level.
Because of Valentine, he had taken the time to look into Gu Zhaoping’s background, checking her education, upbringing, and even some media reports and public opinions about her in her home country.
In short, none of it was particularly impressive.
The information painted a picture of a second-generation heiress cultivated through wealth.
People with such a background usually only needed to know how to spend and enjoy; no one had high expectations of them.
Perhaps such a life was enviable—no effort required, born with everything.
Theodore had relatives like that, or rather, he once hoped Valentine would be like that.
But regrettably, as Valentine grew up, he didn’t become the carefree second-generation heir Theodore had hoped for.
Instead, he had an extraordinary ambition, forcing Theodore to keep an eye on him and stay cautious.
He couldn’t help but ask,
“Miss Gu, your life is already very smooth. Why are you still so aggressive?”
Why insist on betting with him?
There were plenty of ways to live easily without gambling.
He thought the same about Valentine.
Gu Zhaoping leaned back in her chair, hands clasped, arms resting on the armrests, one leg crossed, quietly watching Theodore.
After a while, she smiled.
“Have you ever considered stepping back?” she asked Theodore, just that one question.
Gu Zhaoping spoke slowly,
“Your life is already quite perfect. Your life is even smoother than mine. At least you don’t have to worry about a fiancée or the obligation to maintain a marriage, right? Nor do you have a foolish sister who was born with inheritance rights, making everyone prioritize her importance over yours, forcing you to consider her interests no matter what grand plans you have. No matter what significant family matters arise, they only call others, not you. You just need to enjoy blissful ignorance, bear no responsibilities, and wait for marriage with your share of the wealth, leaving the family and pinning everything on whether your marriage is happy, whether the wife you find is reliable, and whether she can secure the vast fortune you carry. If you’re lucky, you live a life of indulgence, understanding nothing, worrying about nothing.”
Gu Zhaoping finished in one breath, and the polite smile on Theodore’s lips had slightly faded.
He knew what she was talking about.
He had never wanted such a life.
Power, of course, had to be held in his own hands to feel secure.
Moreover, he had never considered submitting to anyone, let alone a foolish peer.
Even with the brilliantly talented Valentine, he couldn’t accept losing to him by even a fraction.
He had to surpass him and everyone else in their generation.
He looked deeply at Gu Zhaoping, speechless.
He understood—
Gu Zhaoping didn’t care about being favored by others.
Favor was what subordinates assumed the superior desired, trading their agency for benefits and convenience.
As a mere heiress of a wealthy family, familial favor was more like a spiritual confinement.
Those who gained everything without relying on their own abilities would one day lose everything for reasons beyond their control.
But once you’ve truly tried to rise to the top through your own efforts and looked down on others, there’s no desire to return to being subordinate.
She didn’t care whether the people she met were good or bad.
People like her placed all their hopes in themselves—others’ words were mere noise, their actions like a passing breeze.
“Power, of course, must be held in your own hands,”
Gu Zhaoping said matter-of-factly, leaning slightly forward, hands on the table.
“Power and strength, in Chinese, are two separate words. Do you know what ‘power’ means in Chinese?”
Theodore looked at her quietly, finally shaking his head with a somber expression.
“A scale’s weight,”
Gu Zhaoping said.
“It sways to measure value, its weight defining others’ worth.”
She smiled faintly, without any warmth.
“Sorry, I want to be the one defining others’ value.”
Though her words said “sorry,” her expression showed no apology, only pride and confidence.
Theodore stared at her in silence for a long time.
Finally, he said,
“I don’t know much about Chinese. But your explanation is impressive. I like that meaning.”
He extended his hand, this time with a more solemn gesture, wanting to shake hands and exchange attitudes.
“I hope at the upcoming forum, I can witness your speech in person and see how you seize power within your family.”
Theodore had always found himself rather bored, but he worked hard to secure his position just to have the chance to do these “boring” things.
Not bad.
“Fine,”
Gu Zhaoping said calmly.
“Skiing is an interesting activity. I used to enjoy it too. This wild snowfield sounds good.”
She added,
“By the way, should we sign an agreement?”
Theodore froze, then burst out laughing.
Gu Zhaoping always liked to leave written evidence for everything she did.
After driving for two days and two nights, Gu Zhaosi finally arrived at the foot of this snowy mountain.
As soon as he got out of the car, he saw several messages pop up in his inbox.
Thinking it was his mentor, he hurriedly opened them to read carefully.
But it turned out some idiot had leaked his contact info to Gu Kaichang.
Gu Kaichang was inexplicably losing it, cursing him in the email, accusing him of scheming and secretly currying favor with the old man.
What the heck?
He hadn’t contacted the old man in months—half a year, to be exact.
The last time was during the Qingming Festival.
The old man called, asking why he didn’t return to the country for the festival to gather and pay respects to ancestors.
Gu Zhaosi thought about it honestly and said,
“My immediate family hasn’t passed away.”
Even his grandmother, who never appeared, wasn’t dead—she had divorced young and cut ties with the Gu family.
She hadn’t been in the country for years, and they had no contact.
Besides, the ancestors they were to worship were people he’d never met.
He didn’t see the point.
Why kneel and kowtow to strangers, asking for their blessings?
No such thing as a free lunch.
Plus, the Gu family always prayed for massive deals worth billions.
Their ancestors up in heaven probably got headaches seeing them burn offerings, thinking these guys were trying to scam big wins with small bets again.
When alive, emotions were such a mess, fighting and scrambling for family assets, lawsuits, and business wars,
But once dead, it’s all about saving face with memorial ceremonies—he really doesn’t get this custom.
The old man didn’t speak; these words pissed him off big time.
As for Gu Zhaosi’s close relatives of his age, isn’t he the only one?
He hadn’t contacted Gu Zhaosi in a while, and it suited him just fine.
The old man didn’t even think about him anymore, so who else would?
That made him feel even freer.
Oh, well, now there’s Gu Kaichang thinking about him.
Thanks a lot—he’d been gone for so long, and someone’s still so hung up on him, constantly bringing him up.
Gu Zhaosi held a snowboard in one arm, raised the other hand, pulled off his glove with his teeth, and typed swiftly in his email with his free hand: “Another failed scheme? Instead of reflecting, you start blaming the world for treating you badly? You’ve come to me now—have you already blamed everyone around you?”
“Haha, no worries, the strong never complain about their environment, but you’re not strong, so complain away.”
Gu Kaichang was cursing him out so much over there, it could’ve gotten him banned.
Gu Zhaosi didn’t bother looking further, turned off his phone, tossed it into his pocket, and headed up the mountain.
Wait a second.
He thought he just saw some news pop up.
Gu Zhaosi froze, dug out his phone in disbelief, and frantically kept looking.
What’s this?
A report about Gu Zhaoping?
He thought it was some gossip or scandal about Gu Zhaoping and Chu Yanze, but clicking in, he was stunned—it was a report about Gu Zhaoping dominating a business game on a reality show, taking first place!