The lights in the large villa were deliberately left on late into the night.
This house was a gift from the Chen Family for the young couple. It was inhabited only by Liang Yingning and a few servants—one of those extrely expensive private villas in the city that money couldn’t even buy.
That was Liang Yingning for you: if it was free, she’d use it, especially since her na was on the deed.
Watching her get out of the car, Shen Jing drove away.
During that ti, Shen Jing received a text from Chen Yao: "Are you guys ho safe? She didn’t drink herself to death, did she?"
Shen Jing, focused on driving, didn’t reply.
「...」
After the financing eting, Zhou Luchen beca busy and started traveling abroad.
He would only return to Yunding to spend the night occasionally, and then only for a few days at a ti.
Sotis, after a tumble in the sheets, he would dress and leave by dawn.
Shen Jing lay lazily on the pillow. The weather was warming up with the return of spring, and feeling too hot, she kicked off the white silk quilt.
Watching Zhou Luchen stand by the bed, loosely tying his bathrobe, she smiled, her eyes half-closed, her pupils clear and bright.
He bent down, picked up her nightgown, and tossed it on her face. "Get up."
A blur of red filled her vision as Shen Jing pulled the nightgown from her face. "What for?"
Red.
Zhou Luchen always said red suited her delicate skin best. He said that when she moved before him in it, she was alluring, her delicate figure captivating.
Occasionally, he would beco engrossed by the sight of her in red. The cigarette pinched between his fingers would extinguish, and the fleeting appreciation in his eyes would vanish completely.
He was self-controlled, never sinking into debauchery.
"Co and hug ," she said as she slipped on her nightgown.
He chuckled softly.
He gripped her slender ankles and yanked her.
She fell back onto the bed, her body completely relaxed. Her nightgown loosened, revealing her graceful curves.
"You hurt ."
She sounded both coquettish and petulant, like an unsated kitten.
Zhou Luchen looked down at her commandingly. "Say that again."
His gaze descended, still laden with the night’s lingering intimacy and ambiguity. A hint of rakish nonchalance glinted in his eyes. It was so straightforward. Shen Jing imdiately understood: if she didn’t get up, he would co to her.
She quickly wrapped herself in her clothes, got up, and nuzzled her face into Zhou Luchen’s palm. "President Zhou."
She was as compliant as a cat.
Zhou Luchen’s lips curled with pleasure. This was probably why he liked keeping her by his side. She was pure enough, gentle enough, and quite spirited when she acted up, yet she never crossed his boundaries.
Occasionally, he’d play along with her antics and humor her a bit.
Rain in Shanghai ca without warning.
Zhou Luchen had a quirk: he ensured their overnight stays were free from disturbances. Consequently, there were no servants here to help him dress.
Shen Jing got out of bed, drew back the curtains of the floor-to-ceiling window, and strolled leisurely to the walk-in closet. She embraced him from behind, her fingers gently untying the belt of his bathrobe.
n from the Zhou Family possessed an exceptional aura. She had a habit of sneaking peeks at his abs; such was the allure Zhou Luchen’s body exuded.
Just the sight of him standing there, bare-chested, his muscles firm and defined—it was intoxicating. He was exquisite, his presence overwhelmingly potent.
Shen Jing turned to pick out clothes for him. There was a whole array of well-tailored silk shirts, arranged neatly by color, each exuding a faint, crisp, clean scent.
Her fingers paused on the row of white shirts. White, she thought.
White, so ascetic; she loved the subversive quality it gave him.
Zhou Luchen coolly buckled his belt, indulging her preference.
Shen Jing carefully helped him into the shirt, chose a dark-toned tie, and patiently tied it for him.
Lifting her gaze, her eyes gently t his.
His eyes glinted as he glanced down at her wrist. "Like it?"
Shen Jing raised her hand, the expensive gemstones on her bracelet clinking softly.
"I like it. It’s very pretty. It makes my hand look fair and slender."
Zhou Luchen tightened his arm around her slender waist, his voice softly husky. "Twenty million."
Shen Jing had thought one or two million was the limit; this was like wearing a piece of property on her wrist. That extravagant? Thankfully, it wasn’t a bracelet from a famous brand, so no one recognized it.
"Where are you going today?" Shen Jing asked out of boredom.
"A eting with the Wei Family," he said flatly.
It was the Wei Family again.
Shen Jing bit her lower lip, looking at their reflection in the full-length mirror. His arms were wrapped around her abdon from behind, his breath slowly grazing her neck, the sensation spreading inch by inch.
Their eyes t in the mirror, exchanging lingering, intimate glances.
"Let Zhuang Ming drive when it’s raining."
His voice was deep and llow, tinged with the huskiness of recent intimacy.
Shen Jing said with pointed clarity, "Is President Zhou looking down on my driving skills?"
In the full-length mirror, Zhou Luchen saw her lower her long lashes, looking so disappointed and forlorn.
He leaned down, laughingly nibbled her earlobe, teasing it. "You’re the best, alright?"
A ticklish sensation made Shen Jing squirm in his embrace.
His arms tightened. "Be good. I’ll be back tonight."
Shen Jing humd, then reached for her lipstick. Popping off the cap, she turned around, unbuttoned Zhou Luchen’s shirt, and wrote her na on his chest.
"You little..." He narrowed his eyes, holding back a curse.
Shen Jing lightly tossed the lipstick into the trash bin. "Consider yourself stamped. You’re mine wherever you go."
Zhou Luchen found the lipstick sticky. When he put his white shirt on, it was instantly sared with mottled red marks.
When the Maybach arrived to pick him up, the driver had a new shirt ready, placed on the back seat.
Zhou Luchen settled into the back seat. He unbuttoned his shirt and leisurely switched the white one for a black one, appearing immaculate and composed to a fault.
Wei Jiaqing, the president of Wei Group, had been hospitalized with liver cancer. This led to a crucial eting to select and review investors for an internal reorganization.
Wenxin, as manager of the Wei Family’s sales departnt and the Third Miss of Wei Group, chaired the eting.
It was scheduled for 10 a.m.
Zhou Luchen was late, and the group grudgingly waited until 11 a.m., sitting silently in their seats.
It didn’t matter whether his last na was Zhou or not. He had invested twenty billion to revive the group’s stock price and save the Wei Family.
Regardless of whom he was doing it for, or for what profit, the Wei Family’s business in Shanghai was still one of the top three large conglorates.
The heavy tal door opened.
The man strode in, sharply dressed. Wenxin’s eyes had been fixed on him from the mont he entered.
Busy with the eting and trying to make a good impression on the shareholders, Wenxin couldn’t casually approach Zhou Luchen for a chat. She could only gaze at him from a distance, whether intentionally or not.
She watched him in his pri—tie undone, elegant gold-rimd glasses perched on his high nose bridge. The lenses veiled a pair of eyes brimming with passion, making the emotions beneath even more inscrutable.
He only glanced at the quarterly report on his laptop.
She always found herself jealously wondering if he had just co from that woman’s bed.
She was montarily distracted.
"Third Miss? It’s 6.4%, you misspoke," a shareholder reminded Wenxin.
Wenxin calmly withdrew her gaze. "I’m truly sorry. Let’s adjourn for today."
Understanding Wenxin’s intent, the shareholders packed up and left.
"Understood, Third Miss."
"Mr. Zhou, Third Miss, we’ll be heading back then."
The man in his seat nodded slightly and murmured, "Mm." He carried himself with a cultured poise rarely seen even in young masters from aristocratic families.
After the door closed completely, Wenxin pulled out the leather chair beside him and sat down.
He closed his laptop. The assistant beside him bent down to pack it away, then stood silently to the side, waiting.
Then, she heard his cold voice ask, "Which hospital?"
Wenxin lowered her head slightly. In front of him, she let her guard down, her voice choking as she said, "It’s not good. My father wants to see you."
Zhou Luchen stood up, his tone indifferent. "I’ll see when I have ti."
What counted as having ti?
Wenxin spoke softly, "Please, don’t go."
Zhou Luchen’s footsteps paused.
A warmth spread through Wenxin’s heart; she sensed he wouldn’t just abandon her.
She quietly watched his retreating figure, enveloped in an aura of aloof coolness.
High and mighty—he possessed the capital and status to truly embody those words.
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