“What model is this perfume?” Sui Yuye asked.
“Custom-made. Do you like it?”
Sui Yuye didn’t answer. He suddenly remembered Qi Shengxian’s comment about it being worse than street vendor goods and found it somewhat amusing.
“The highest-end perfumes are exclusively custom-made and completely unavailable on the market. Did you think mine was some cheap street vendor product?” Shao Jinghe asked quietly.
Sui Yuye coughed, feeling awkward as he reached out to push the other’s face away, but the fully exposed face was too overwhelming.
Sui Yuye lowered his hand and pushed against Shao Jinghe’s chest instead. “If you’re ready, let’s go now.”
He took the umbrella handed to him by a servant and walked to the doorway, opening it before turning back to ask, “Coming?”
Shao Jinghe walked over, took the umbrella from his hand, and descended the steps.
Sui Yuye watched as his umbrella was taken, feeling speechless. Just as he was about to ask the servant if there were any more umbrellas, Shao Jinghe suddenly turned back and said impatiently:
“What are you standing there for? Come over here.”
Sui Yuye had no choice but to duck under the umbrella. As he reached out to take the handle, Shao Jinghe lifted his wrist to avoid it. “You’re not as tall as me. If you hold the umbrella, my head will hit the top.”
Sui Yuye couldn’t hold back any longer. “You’re only a little taller than me, is that really worth bragging about?”
“Why not?”
Sui Yuye sneered. “True, after all, you’re the kind of person who would brag for days about grabbing the biggest building block in kindergarten.”
“I…”
“I still remember your embarrassing childhood antics—always making girls cry. They said you only had a pretty face but were rotten to the core.”
Shao Jinghe: “…”
Sui Yuye felt much better.
Suddenly, his shoulder was pulled, and he stumbled half a step closer to Shao Jinghe.
“Why are you standing so far away?” Shao Jinghe’s hand rested on his shoulder, holding him close as he looked ahead. “If my clothes get wet later, you’ll have to pay for them.”
At the mention of paying, Sui Yuye immediately pressed closer to him.
Shao Jinghe finally seemed satisfied, a slight smile curling at the corner of his mouth.
The lake shimmered under the sunlight as the luxurious cruise ship Zunmu sailed gracefully.
The golden Venus logo was so glaring it made Sui Yuye’s eyes hurt. Following Shao Jinghe out of the elevator onto the deck, he immediately caught sight of an awkward scene—
A handsome young man was dancing in front of a man seated on a sofa. His clothes were proper, but the dance was anything but, with a work badge clenched between his teeth and a suggestive look in his eyes.
It was so cringeworthy that Sui Yuye could only bear to watch for two seconds before looking away.
The man sitting on the sofa rested one hand against his cheek, fingers lightly touching his lips, legs crossed. He wore large black-framed glasses, his expression blank and unresponsive, as if the young man before him were nothing but air.
He fiddled with a lighter in his hand, the crisp sound of the Las Vegas flip-top opening and closing pleasantly.
Suddenly, the sound stopped, and he turned his head.
“Mr. Chu?” The young man placed a hand on his knee.
The man addressed as Mr. Chu said nothing, his attention fixed elsewhere.
On a figure with its back turned to him.
The person walked behind the sofa, his posture inexplicably eye-catching—the kind that stirred an urge to tear it apart. The lines of his shoulders and back were sharp, tapering down to a slender waist, with long, straight legs and shoes adorned with red soles.
Just as Mr. Chu was observing, the other person glanced around the surroundings.
Turning his head, he revealed the outline of his profile.
Mr. Chu’s fingers, resting against his lips, twitched slightly.
“Mr. Chu?” The young man beside him spoke again, staring at those glasses as if compelled by some unseen force, he reached out to remove them.
Just as his hand was less than two centimeters away, Mr. Chu suddenly turned his head.
He lifted his eyelids slightly, glancing at the young man through the frames.
The young man’s face instantly turned deathly pale, as if he had locked eyes with something terrifying. He collapsed onto the floor, struggling to catch his breath.
“Go down and rest for a while.” Mr. Chu put away his lighter:
“Good puppy.”
Receiving the praise and command, the young man’s condition gradually returned to normal.
Sui Yuye, feeling the breeze from the lake, inexplicably felt a chill run down the back of his neck.
Why did it always feel like someone was watching him?
He looked down at Shao Jinghe, who was sitting nearby, and asked, “Hey, why didn’t you bring a few Cubs to keep you company? Isn’t it boring just sitting here like this?”
“I’m only here to go through the motions. Do you think I actually want to be here?” Shao Jinghe leaned back lazily. “Seeing these people annoys me, especially that guy surnamed Quan.”
Sui Yuye didn’t press further and turned to look into the distance. Two familiar figures were walking toward them, and Fu Zhong waved at him.
Sui Yuye sighed helplessly and mouthed: I’m working.
Fu E nodded in understanding, and Fu Zhong mouthed back: We’ll wait until you’re off.
A waiter approached Shao Jinghe and whispered something to him. A few seconds later, Shao Jinghe set down his glass and stood up, with Sui Yuye naturally following suit.
Shao Jinghe turned back and tilted his chin toward him. “Stay right here. Sit down and don’t move.”
“But—”
“I’ll be right behind you, not too far away.”
Sui Yuye had no choice but to nod. He figured there must be something Shao Jinghe didn’t want him to hear. After all, with his precognitive ability, if Shao Jinghe were really in danger, he could still make it in time.
He sat down and began idly scanning his surroundings, his gaze settling on a man leaning against the bow of the ship. The man was engaged in conversation, his profile tall and straight.
Sui Yuye found him intriguing at first glance.
His aura was hard to describe—steady, yet not entirely reserved; frivolous, yet without a hint of flippancy.
Moreover, his face didn’t seem like something that could occur naturally. It looked more like it had been meticulously crafted through modeling.
“His name is Quan Wangcheng.”
A low, gentle voice spoke up.
Sui Yuye paused and looked up.
Tall, well-dressed—definitely a good first impression.
He wore a black thin turtleneck under a matching suit, the shoulders broad and straight. His hair had a slight wave, and his features were strikingly handsome—the kind of face that plastic surgery clinics could never replicate, a high-risk template.
Despite his fashionable attire, he wore a dull, thick black-framed pair of glasses.
Mr. Chu placed a glass of wine on the coffee table in front of him. “Don’t stare at him for too long, or he might take an interest in you.”
Sui Yuye smirked. “That joke’s a bit cold.”
Mr. Chu shook his head. “He enjoys breaking people down, watching strong individuals crumble, then rescuing them, piecing them back together only to shatter them again—a cycle of torment.”
Sui Yuye: “…White Knight Syndrome?”
“Similar, but worse. He doesn’t save the weak. Instead, he pushes a normal person to the point where they need his salvation.”
Sui Yuye was speechless, silently cursing the man as a lunatic.
From what Mr. Chu explained, he also learned that this welcome party was being held for Quan Wangcheng, who had just returned from a month-long business trip to White City and had secured a major deal with the Du family.
Quan Wangcheng was the son of an investment bank CEO—in other words, someone who could influence capital flow, an absolute capitalist.
Mr. Chu smiled faintly. “My father helped quite a bit for his father to secure that position.”
Sui Yuye stared at his black-framed glasses, inexplicably feeling an itch in his hands—a strong urge to take them off.
“So, no one here can surpass him?”
“There is. The one surnamed Du from neighboring White City can make Quan Wangcheng rein himself in a bit, but he didn’t come today.”
Sui Yuye followed up with a question. “Are there people here from White City?”
Mr. Chu casually gestured with his wine glass. “The twins to your right, and the three over by the wine table—they’re all from White City.”
Fan City and White City are adjacent, comparable in both economic scale and development level. If Fan City represents extravagance and fantasy, then White City embodies restraint and solemnity.
“What about you?” Sui Yuye suddenly asked.
Mr. Chu: “Hmm?”
“You said his father secured that position mainly because of your father’s help, right?” Sui Yuye glanced at him, seeing through everything.
“By that logic, you and Quan Wangcheng should at least be on equal footing, shouldn’t you?”
What exactly is this person trying to achieve by telling me all this?