I am not just a tycoon

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7 p.m.

Dong Ya and Qi Xi stepped out of the back seat of the Alphard, and Old Xiang, the driver with white gloves, considerately shielded them from the car door's edge, reminding, "Miss Dong, Miss Qi, please be careful."

This wasn't the first time they had enjoyed such service; just a few days ago in Yanjing, they rode in Shen Yuan's Maybach with a similarly attentive driver, neatly dressed in formal attire.

Once both girls had alighted, Old Xiang gestured politely towards the entrance: "You can go in now, ladies. Mr. Shen is already inside waiting for you both."

"Okay."

Dong Ya responded with a smile, watched the Alphard slowly drive away, then turned to gaze at the villa with its large garden, sighing after a while, "Qi Xi, I always feel like I don't fit in here."

Dong Ya glanced at her own outfit: she was carrying a Coach bag, wore a ZARA tank top, and a skirt she bought online—all together totaling no more than 2000 yuan.

(PS: Reference for Dong Ya's outfit.)

"Did you notice just now that the driver was wearing an Omega watch? I'm not even as good as someone else's driver."

Dong Ya sighed helplessly. She knew Shen Yuan was rich, but she hadn't expected to be overshadowed by his chauffeur.

No wonder people say online never to look down on jobs like nannies and drivers—who knows, they might earn tens of thousands a month, own cars and houses, and lead lives most people would envy.

"Hey, I've always misunderstood the definition of living; turns out what we do is merely survive, while they really know how to live."

Dong Ya shook her head, then linked arms with Qi Xi and walked in: "Let's go then, let's delve deeper into the life of the wicked capitalists."

Just as they reached the entrance hall, they noticed a lady dressed in a professional skirt suit and stockings standing there. She had neat, short, and sassy hair but a curvy figure.

She greeted them with a professional smile, hands crossed over her waist, bowing slightly, "Good evening, Miss Dong, Miss Qi. I am Shen Yuan's personal assistant and housekeeper. My name is Ji Ya, please come inside."

Both women were momentarily startled; so it was true what they showed on television, wealthy people do have knowledgeable and elegant housekeepers in their big houses.

Ji Ya led the way with a guiding hand, and as Dong Ya and Qi Xi followed, Dong Ya wondered whether Ji Ya was just a housekeeper and assistant.

The image of Shen Yuan sharpened in Dong Ya's mind, resembling the wealthy and prominent merchants of ancient times with luxurious mansions, who traveled by sedan chair carried by bearers. To Dong Ya, Ji Ya was responsible for more than just Shen Yuan's living conditions; perhaps she also warmed his bed.

The evils of capitalism!

Dong Ya couldn't help but deride inwardly. Although she had seen glimpses of wealthy lives on TV and short videos, those hardly compared to witnessing it in person.

Following Ji Ya into the living room, Dong Ya also noted the tasteful decor: an elegantly simple and new Chinese-style that was dignified without being pretentious.

She could also hear a violin solo, though she wasn't sure where it was coming from.

However, upon entering the dining room, Dong Ya was surprised to see two chefs bustling about in the open kitchen.

Shen Yuan had personal chefs?

Both chefs looked to be in their forties, dressed in black chef uniforms and towering hats, with stout figures.

And there was Shen Yuan, sitting casually on a bar stool, watching the chefs work while chatting with them.

"Chef Gao, you mentioned your son is heading to college next month, right?"

"Chef Hu, how long should this fish be steamed? It looks almost ready."

"Hey, Chef Gao, watch the heat on that pan-fried chicken, don't let it burn; it won't taste good then."

Despite the bothersome boss nearby, the chefs were still in good spirits, cooking while engaging with him.

Yet, what shocked them more was the violinist holding court on the side, elegant and dressed in a long black gown; the haunting strains of music were coming from her.

Both the environment and the atmosphere were high-end, but Shen Yuan as the host was down to earth.

Perhaps this is what it really means to be rich... Dong Ya mused silently, having pieced together a complete image of Shen Yuan in her mind.

The biggest difference between an earthdog and a rich earthdog is that the former is always picked on no matter what they do, while the latter always has people to cover their faults.

Actually, Shen Yuan couldn't appreciate the violin solo; if it weren't for the violinist's good looks, he'd have sent her home early.

He much preferred watching the chefs cook, observing their fluid movements as they handled various ingredients and tools while occasionally offering guidance as a fnon-expert to the experts.

Since they were all from China, communication was much smoother than with Brooke, who knew he was in the presence of a benefactor and dared not offend.

Prompted by Ji Ya, Shen Yuan finally noticed Dong Ya and Qi Xi behind him, turning around to smile and say, "Please have a seat, you must be hungry by now."

Dong Ya, smoothing down her skirt, sat with a radiant smile, "Indeed a bit, but we're quite good at handling hunger."

"We'll serve dinner just after seven; I've timed it with the chefs."

Shen Yuan came down from his stool to sit at the center of the dining table, with Dong Ya already seated on his left, while Qi Xi seemed more shy.

Shen Yuan pointed to the seat on his right, "Please sit down, Qi Xi."

Qi Xi, intending to sit next to Dong Ya, found herself in a dilemma. But Ji Ya swiftly assisted Shen Yuan, pulling out the chair to the right: "Miss Qi, please sit."

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