That night, Lu Siyuan accompanied Zhou Luchen as they set sail on a yacht, joining Chen Yao and the others for so fun. After a day of filming, Lu Siyuan was exhausted but dared not show any sign of fatigue or displeasure as she stayed by Zhou Luchen’s side. She didn’t dare to relax for a mont, maintaining her impeccable makeup and sweetest smile. Glass after glass, she drank, watching the Second Young Master of the Zhou family absorbed in his phone. Several tis, she wanted to ask him:
Can we go back now?
But a glance at the coldness flickering deep in his eyes made Lu Siyuan’s throat tighten. She couldn’t bring herself to ask, swallowing the words back down.
Tonight’s gathering was special; Chen Yao had called it a breakup party. Chen Yao had been dumped. His girlfriend was returning to her hotown to get married and had even sent him an invitation—how ruthless.
Clutching a liquor bottle, he faced the sea and belted out "The First Experience of Love." He’d drunk a fair bit, and his voice was raw and hoarse.
"So much for ’everlasting love’—just empty words."
"What is it you love about ? You can’t even say."
"..."
"You t so handso guy and just tossed aside."
"Am I, at eighteen, destined to cry over love?"
The more Chen Yao sang, the hoarser his voice grew. Nobody cared about his cracking voice; he kicked the sofa.
Chen Yao declared, "I can’t accept this! She spent thirty million of my money and then just up and left." He paused, then ground out through clenched teeth, "That bitch."
Zhou Luchen lounged lazily on the leather sofa. He took a swig of liquor, propped his cheek on his hand, and looked at Chen Yao. "You’re not young anymore—27."
Chen Yao and Zhou Luchen were the sa age and had grown up together, so close they’d nearly shared girlfriends.
The more Chen Yao thought about the breakup, the angrier he beca. "That girl’s a bitch!"
"You weren’t planning on marrying her anyway," Zhou Luchen retorted coolly. "So why bother insulting her?"
Suddenly fired up, Chen Yao looked at Zhou Luchen with a sentintal air. "Why don’t you marry soone and show how it’s done?"
Zhou Luchen lazily curled his lips. He downed the brown liquid in his glass in one gulp. The alcohol tingled on his tongue, then spread through his throat and lungs. His palm curled around Lu Siyuan’s waist, drawing her close. He leaned in, his voice a breath away from her ear, "Marry who?" He paused deliberately. "You?"
His voice, laced with liquor, was teasing and sharp. Lu Siyuan started, slowly lifting her head to look up at Young Master Zhou. His smile was dazzling, leaving Lu Siyuan in a daze. Her heart hamred, again and again, as if he were truly asking her:
Marry you? Would that be okay?
But she knew perfectly well it was just a montary jest on his part.
Lu Siyuan, emboldened by the alcohol, played along. "? You’d marry ?"
Zhou Luchen’s gaze rested lightly on her as he nonchalantly lit a cigarette.
The light in Lu Siyuan’s eyes instantly dimd.
Who the fuck is crazy enough to get married at 27?
Becoming Mrs. Zhou of the Zhou Family wouldn’t be easy. The position of co-president’s wife wasn’t sothing just anyone could aspire to.
And as for being Zhou Luchen’s woman... who even knew who he truly loved?
Lu Siyuan got up and went to the restroom, splashing water on her face to clear her head.
She ran into Chen Yao.
Chen Yao was also drunk. Seeing Lu Siyuan’s innocent-looking outfit, he mistook her for so pretty young thing.
"Why haven’t you secured your position yet? The Second Young Master has kept you by his side for so long," Chen Yao asked Lu Siyuan, his words slurred by drunkenness.
That question. It was indeed a jab to the heart.
Lu Siyuan’s voice choked a little. "Between us..."
But the words wouldn’t co out. Instead, Lu Siyuan said, "It’s late. You should go back to your room and sleep."
Chen Yao muttered, "I can’t believe I got dumped." He patted his own strikingly handso face. "My God, am I not good-looking?"
"You are," Lu Siyuan said, moving past him. "Very good-looking."
Zhou Luchen’s circle of friends were all good-looking, each with his own distinct style, but they were, without exception, scumbags. So wore their bastardly nature openly, while others were scumbags to the core, capable of finding a replacent girlfriend within 24 hours of a breakup.
As for Zhou Luchen, she couldn’t see through him.
With that thought, Lu Siyuan steadied herself and headed up the stairs to the fourth floor. The fourth floor of the yacht was usually Zhou Luchen’s private quarters. Usually, as the party wound down, no one in their circle would casually go up to the fourth floor and disturb his rest.
She pushed open the door to his room. The RUSHING sound of water echoed from the bathroom. Through the transparent glass of the shower stall, she could see the man’s tall figure, his broad shoulders, and his sinfully alluring narrow waist.
The image ford vividly in her mind—he was the kind who would be formidable in bed.
Lu Siyuan’s senses felt magnified, and she had an almost overwhelming urge to push open the bathroom door and go inside. Just a little more...
But rembering how quickly he could turn cold and ruthless, Lu Siyuan reined in her impulses and quietly stuck to the unspoken rules.
He finally erged, a bath towel wrapped loosely around his waist. Droplets of water from his damp hair trickled down, tracing paths across his wet, sexy chest, soaking the edges of the towel before disappearing silently into the hollows of his physique.
Lu Siyuan’s throat suddenly felt parched.
"The clothes are on the sofa," he said, his voice raspy, as though soaked in strong liquor. Zhou Luchen thought it was a staff mber.
Lu Siyuan bit her lip and lightly threw herself into his arms, pressing her face against his firm pectoral muscles. The scorching heat from his chest instantly enveloped her.
Lu Siyuan said softly, "It’s ."
A hint of relaxation touched his lips as he smiled. "Miss ?"
Lu Siyuan nodded slightly. "Yes. Can I have a hug, please? I feel dizzy."
She knew he wasn’t lacking won who threw themselves at him; her intention was clear enough.
He glanced down at her. "Drunk?"
She was incredibly pliant, her arms yearning to hold him tight. "Drunk. And here... I only know you."
He casually moved past Lu Siyuan, placing a cigarette between his lips. "Smoke?"
Lu Siyuan boldly took the cigarette from his mouth and cheekily placed it in her own, savoring the warmth where his lips had been.
"I only want what the Second Young Master has touched."
Zhou Luchen hooked a finger under her chin. He gazed at her as she fumbled with a lighter, trying to light the cigarette, their eyes locking in an intimate exchange.
His re smile was enough to lt Lu Siyuan’s heart into a puddle.
Zhou Luchen slowly took the lighter from her. He tsked, "Naughty girl."
KNOCK KNOCK— The sound was followed by Chen Yao’s voice.
"Luchen, the market’s closed."
Zhou Luchen didn’t reply, turning to go to the walk-in closet for his bathrobe.
Lu Siyuan stole a glance at Zhou Luchen’s retreating back. She caught only a glimpse of his powerful, broad back—sheer temptation—for a re second before the white bathrobe completely covered him.
He tied the belt and stepped out.
For the first ti, Lu Siyuan found herself hating Chen Yao with an intensity that surprised her. She loathed him. Leaning against the sofa, she rose on her tiptoes, her gaze fixed on the white bath towel he’d tossed aside. The few lingering water droplets on it seed to sear her heart.
He had left, yet he’d managed to stir an inferno within her.
Lu Siyuan lit her cigarette and inhaled deeply, drawing the thick smoke into her throat, relishing its numbing effect and the lingering scent of him.
She still preferred the "Heaven and Earth" brand that Young Master Zhou smoked—rich and robust.
Like the man himself: beneath that refined exterior lay boundless sensuality, intense and tumultuous.
「The next day.」
Shen Jing received a call from the director, telling her to return.
"Is your big star playing gas with ?" Shen Jing initially refused. "I’m not going. The cab fare back and forth costs money too."
The director said coolly from the other end, "It’s up to you if you want to co. If not, I’ll just find another teacher."
20,000 per session, five sessions in total—that was 100,000. Shen Jing’s resolve crumbled instantly. She would go.
She didn’t encounter Lu Siyuan much. Even when they did, the big star no longer spared her a single glance.
Suddenly, Lu Siyuan had transford her image, switching from her forr sexy style to an innocent, girl-next-door look: pleated skirts, white sneakers, and white T-shirts. Her wavy hair was now sotis tied up in a princess hairstyle.
The director practically fawned over Lu Siyuan, catering to her every whim.
Having a wealthy backer certainly had its advantages.
Lu Siyuan didn’t spare Shen Jing a glance, and Shen Jing wasn’t in the mood to interact with her either.
Shen Jing was a complete nonentity on set, like a ghost. She played her five sessions and settled the paynt.
She pocketed the 100,000.
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