The night was dense. She quietly gnawed at his shoulder.
Barely able to reach on tiptoe, she swayed unsteadily, needing him to personally steady her waist.
This led to an ambiguous situation. Shen Jing’s few feigned protests were inviting, her petite fra held in the palm of his hand. As she moved, her slender waist, supple as smoke, slowly rubbed against his waistband. Deliberately or not, it brushed past the leather belt of his gun, the embroidered golden threads of her cheongsam snagging on it.
Zhou Luchen felt a devilish fire rise in his throat; unbidden thoughts stirred within him. He pressed her against the thick tree trunk, his long fingers pinching her narrow waist, forehead against forehead, their breaths rging into chaos.
"Ajing." He captured her lips, his voice incredibly low, laced with an indescribable restraint. "I must really be crazy."
Shen Jing reached out, her hands pressing against his back as she embraced him. It was the first ti he had called her by any nickna other than ’Baby.’ Ajing. Only when overwheld with passion would he, if he felt like it, deign to call her ’Baby,’ indulging his own whim. Zhou Luchen was far from a gentleman.
"You—"
He didn’t let her finish.
His kiss was always forceful.
Like being thrown into a blender.
Shen Jing couldn’t push him away; instead, his grip tightened.
The faint scent of salty sauce clung to her from moving things earlier. Zhou Luchen inwardly scoffed.
Shen Jing’s legs went weak, and she braced her hands against the massive tree trunk behind her. Her cheongsam was wrinkled from his touch; she could only look down and smooth out the creases one by one.
Zhou Luchen’s fingers lightly lifted to wipe away the glistening trace of saliva at the corner of her lips. "I pamper and cherish you, not so you can go out and move boxes for others."
In Zhou Luchen’s eyes, his woman was ant to be pampered, to sit there pristine, not to wear an uncomfortable cheongsam while moving boxes. What kind of man was he, Zhou Luchen, to let his own woman move boxes? And for another man, at that.
Shen Jing laughed softly, looking up. "Who told you not to set off fireworks for ? Consider this your punishnt."
"And how would you punish ?"
He voiced the question, but could she truly punish this arrogant young master? Could he really lower himself? Since childhood, he had been steeped in power and pleasure.
"Punish you by making you spend next New Year’s with too," Shen Jing said.
Zhou Luchen chuckled. "Does January 1st count?"
Shen Jing was speechless for a mont. How could that count? New Year’s Day was just days away. Her fist lightly thumped against Zhou Luchen’s chest.
Zhou Luchen casually embraced her, his eyelids lifting with a lazy, insouciant air, a sheepish smile on his face. "Ouch."
With her final punch, he wouldn’t feel pain; he’d just tease her more.
In the teahouse, Nie Yanzuo elegantly prepared tea and asked Sun Qiyan, who sat beside him, "Do you know Achen’s little girlfriend?"
Sun Qiyan responded simply, "Kind of."
Nie Yanzuo lifted his teacup, frowning at Sun Qiyan. "What do you an by ’kind of’? Do you know her or not?"
Sun Qiyan replied, "Neighbor."
Nie Yanzuo raised an eyebrow. "What kind of neighbor?"
Sun Qiyan turned his head, retorting, "Haven’t you ever had neighbors?"
Of course, he had. How could he not?
Nie Yanzuo didn’t inquire further, turning his head at the sound of movent.
Zhou Luchen and Shen Jing appeared from sowhere, the young woman keeping her head down, her face perpetually flushed.
Shen Jing seated herself quietly. Zhou Luchen casually glanced in Sun Qiyan’s direction, then turned to leave.
Nie Yanzuo called out to him, "Where are you off to now?"
Two cold words escaped him: "To smoke."
Shen Jing’s gaze followed his retreating figure until he disappeared around the corner of the corridor. Then, she looked away.
Sun Qiyan sat there, taking in the entire scene. So, she was Zhou Luchen’s.
He and Zhou Luchen did know each other; they had discussed business, but their acquaintance wasn’t deep.
Nie Yanzuo, ever one to spoil the mood, asked, "How co you two didn’t greet each other this ti? Aren’t you still discussing business?"
Sun Qiyan idly stirred the tea leaves in his cup. "The Second Young Master is always like this."
That man, Zhou, had a cold heart.
"What about you?" Nie Yanzuo was genuinely curious. "Your boss, he’s not saying anything?"
The tea he was about to sip had grown cold, its taste uninviting. Sun Qiyan set down the cup and rose to leave. "You can clean up the fireworks in the backyard yourself. Hiring workers costs money, doesn’t it?"
「That night.」
Shen Jing and Zhou Luchen stayed until midnight before leaving. They remained entangled in the bedroom through the next day, sleeping and making love, until daylight faded to darkness once more.
They hadn’t had a proper holiday.
After he was satisfied, he lazily leaned against the sofa, watching her sleep on the bed. A half-smoked cigarette smoldered between his long fingers; he casually flicked the ash with his index finger, appearing nonchalant.
「Two cigarettes later.」
Zhou Luchen rose and went to the living room door, accepting a dicinal balm from his bodyguard before returning to the bedroom.
He rested one long leg on the edge of the bed, leaned over her, and gently tidied Shen Jing’s scattered long hair. Bracing his hands on either side of her, his voice was extrely soft, "Be good. I’ll apply the dicine for you."
Shen Jing, barely conscious, could only murmur, "No, no."
Asleep, nestled in the soft, comfortable blankets, she looked like a precious little cub.
Zhou Luchen ignored her resistance, lifting a small portion of the blanket.
His fingertips were slightly hot. For Shen Jing, it felt like a dream within a dream.
"Gentle," she mumbled.
The man humd in agreent.
It wouldn’t do for her to get sick enough for hospitalization again.
When Shen Jing awoke, she didn’t even know what day it was until she fumbled for her phone.
December 27th.
In just those few dozen hours, photos of her and Zhou Luchen in the hotel corridor had suddenly surfaced on social dia platforms. There were several photos, even videos. In them, she was throwing seductive glances at Zhou Luchen, looking utterly provocative.
Titles all carried hashtags like #HighSocietyChristmas, #ShanghaiMysteryTycoon, and #CarolaRedRose, and the netizens’ comnts grew more outrageous the more they scrolled.
No one knew who the distinguished gentleman, visible only in profile, was. Apart from his handso profile, no other details were known. Besides, who really knew who this Zhou Luchen was?
Instead, the overwhelming majority of comnts focused on Shen Jing:
"’The storytelling teacher from Hongtan Teahouse is probably dating so bigwig.’"
"’Just look at the ambiance and that car; I’ve already fleshed out a story in my mind.’"
"’Sending red roses on Christmas—what else could it an if not a couple?’"
"’Shen Jing is my classmate. I know her. Her family is poor, and her father is even a gambler. Yet, the brands she wore used to be very expensive. If you say she’s dating so big shot, I don’t believe it... It feels like she’s being kept.’"
Shen Jing frowned. Truly idle people. Why did they single *her* out?
Liang Yingning, always at the forefront of gossip, ssaged her, "Don’t panic. Netizens will forget in a couple of days."
Shen Jing scoffed in her reply, "And what if it spreads overseas?"
Liang Yingning typed back, "Then the nature of it would be different. UnionPay International knows Zhou Luchen’s face—he’s their future CEO."
Shen Jing logged off and scrolled through short videos again.
Liang Yingning sent another ssage: "The photos are quite nice. Those internet-famous bloggers even picked out good background music for you two. Honestly, your auras really fit the vibe of a high-society banquet."
Shen Jing threw off the blanket, picked up the nightgown hanging on the sofa, put it on, and went out to find him.
Fortunately, Zhou Luchen was still there, in the kitchen preparing dinner. Apparently, a head chef from so hotel had co over to assist him. After giving his instructions, the chef had just bid farewell and left.
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