"Dear passengers, please note that our plane is about to land at Charles de Gaulle Airport in France. Passengers disembarking, please prepare your belongings…"
A string of French followed by English echoed through the cabin. Jiang Hai, who had been sleeping soundly in his seat, sat up groggily. Still half-asleep, he looked over at Qi Jie, who was curled up and sleeping peacefully beside him. Gently nudging her awake, he adjusted his seat and wiped his face, trying to freshen up.
He glanced out the window, but there was nothing to see but clouds. Buckling his seatbelt, Jiang Hai casually turned on his phone (which is allowed on international flights, though there's no signal midair—you can still check the time or play offline games). Confirming the time, he began to reflect on his actions from the previous day, hoping the people he'd met had understood his intentions.
The previous afternoon, Jiang Hai had first visited George's horse farm. Later, he and Bob George went to speak with the owners of nearby manors.
As expected, every manor near Jiang Hai's had already been approached by Carlett Company. And to his dismay, their offers were high—at least 20% above market value.
That frustrated Jiang Hai, but he was determined to acquire the surrounding land. Even if his initial estimate of $50 million ballooned to $80 million—or even $180 million—he would still go through with it. Of course, if Carlett wanted to offer $500 million to buy it all, Jiang Hai would gladly hand it over. But for now, he had made agreements with the landowners to wait until he returned before finalizing anything.
After that, he packed up what they needed for their trip and boarded the flight to France.
Truthfully, Jiang Hai didn't have a favorable impression of France. While many considered it a romantic country, to him, it seemed shameless. In his view, French society had no real moral boundaries in relationships. People hooking up with strangers in hotels—or even in public spaces like lawns—wasn't uncommon. France had one of the highest infidelity rates in the world, and their liberal views on sex extended to both men and women.
Even marriage laws didn't help. In the case of divorce, fault didn't matter—the man typically ended up paying alimony regardless. As a result, many French men avoided marriage altogether, and women didn't seem to mind. Cheating among friends and relatives was also common. To Jiang Hai, it was one of the most morally chaotic countries in the world.
Worse still, the country held subtle but consistent anti-Chinese sentiments. As a patriotic and traditional man, Jiang Hai couldn't respect a place like this.
If not for the upcoming wine event, he wouldn't have come at all. And even now, he had no intention of staying long. Once the cocktail party was over, they would head to Belgium—no return visit to France planned.
"Hey, wake up. We're landing," he said, nudging the others awake.
Yawns filled the cabin as everyone stretched, rubbed their eyes, and looked around. Once they were sure they were almost there, they began to collect their things.
As the plane touched down and came to a stop, Jiang Hai and his group disembarked—and immediately drew attention.
French men, in particular, couldn't help but whistle as the group passed through the terminal. While some of the girls—like Qi Jie, Qi Ya, Ai Xiaoxi, and Feng Yunchen—might have seemed unusual to French tastes due to cultural differences, others were considered absolute stunners. Even Afra and the other women were easily "80-plus-pointers." Their curves, enhanced by regular intake of spiritual energy, were comparable to top models. The sight drove the hormonally charged French men wild.
But the presence of Jiang Hai—walking calmly among the women—and Connorson Peters behind him, with a visible pistol on his waist, made the men think twice. No one wanted to mess around and end up with a bullet wound.
Hearing the catcalls, Jiang Hai curled his lip in disgust. Typical. He already hated this place.
Fortunately, the unpleasantness didn't last long. Outside the airport, O'Connor Murphy had been waiting.
When he spotted Jiang Hai and his group, the stern-faced German approached quickly. Jiang Hai sometimes wondered if Germans were genetically incapable of smiling—O'Connor's rare attempts at smiling always came off stiff and awkward.
"Boss, you've arrived," he said with a respectful nod.
"The cars are ready, right?" Jiang Hai asked casually. "I brought ten boxes of wine, just like you requested. Should be enough."
He gestured to the trailer behind him, loaded with neatly packed boxes.
O'Connor Murphy examined them and gave a serious nod. "Plenty."
Each box held ten bottles—120 in total. That was far more than needed for the French wine event. Half would be used at the Brussels Wine Fair in Belgium.
"Let's go," O'Connor said, leading them to a nearby parking lot where a luxury bus awaited.
Naturally, Jiang Hai had rented the bus. It was unthinkable for someone of his status to show up without proper transportation.
The driver was visibly surprised as the stunning group boarded. While he clearly knew these people were out of his league, that didn't stop him from stealing a glance or two.
Once the wine and luggage were loaded, everyone boarded the bus and headed to their destination: the city of Mâcon.
France itself wasn't very large. Most European countries weren't—especially compared to China or the former Soviet Union. Excluding overseas territories, France had an area of around 550,000 square kilometers, which wasn't much more than Jiang Hai's home province of Heilongjiang in China.
Because of its size and population (over 66 million), natural landscapes were scarce. Outside the cities, much of the scenery was man-made: pastures, manors, and vineyards.
As they entered the Burgundy region, the scenery began to shift. Here, the land was dominated by wineries, each surrounded by sprawling vineyards. Vines that had stood for generations thrived with new life. The sight was beautiful in its own way.
"Burgundy was originally settled by a Germanic tribe from Bornholm Island in the Baltic Sea," O'Connor Murphy suddenly spoke up, perhaps trying to lighten the mood. "They came to the mainland around the 2nd century AD and established the Kingdom of Burgundy in 413 AD—though it was soon destroyed by Roman General Aetius and the Huns in 436."
Though not a talkative man, O'Connor's sudden history lecture drew the group's interest. Jiang Hai, in particular, enjoyed learning about history.
The Burgundy region had tried several times to establish its own kingdom, only to be defeated time and again. Despite more than 1,600 years of cultural legacy, its history felt more like one of constant failure and fragility.
Eventually, the region became part of France. During the Middle Ages and even up to WWI, France had been one of the great military powers—touted as the world's strongest ground force at the time. Yet, paradoxically, even at its peak, it managed to lose to the Qing Dynasty and still forced China to pay reparations as if it had won. That irony never failed to amuse Jiang Hai.
As they chatted and reflected, the bus continued toward Mâcon. Though the journey wasn't exhausting, the combination of a long flight and drive left everyone worn out.
Upon arrival, Jiang Hai booked an entire floor of a high-end hotel. With money not being a concern, everyone had their own room.
After settling in, they prepared to rest. The wine event would begin the next day, and they needed to be at their best.
That evening, O'Connor Murphy briefed Jiang Hai on how the wine competition worked. Unlike the livestock or fishery exhibitions Jiang Hai had attended before, the Mâcon Wine Competition was completely blind.
There were no flashy booths, no gimmicks to draw crowds. Just plain tables. Each wine entry was wrapped in thick kraft paper, obscuring the label, bottle shape, and any identifying details. Even the cups provided offered no clues. Judges would sample each wine and rate them purely by taste and quality. It was one of the fairest competitions out there.
This was precisely why Dulles Gerald was so confident. Tenglong Manor might not be well-known, nor did it spend lavishly on PR, but he believed the wine could stand on its own.
And seeing both Gerald and O'Connor Murphy so confident, even Jiang Hai—despite not knowing much about wine—began to feel hopeful.
(To be continued.)