Inside a private room at Langtaosha, S City’s most exclusive club.
The ostentatious marble walls, the extravagant crystal chandelier, the colorful spotlights, and the babble of voices made the room exceptionally noisy.
“Xin Ge is so lucky to be able to marry into a wealthy family like the Li family!”
“Right? CEO Li is handsome and rich. With a husband like that taking care of him, he won’t have to work hard filming dramas anymore!”
“Lying around at home with money to spend, just thinking about it feels wonderful!”
A group of young actors new to the industry chattered nonstop around a young man, their voices full of envy and flattery.
Xin Ruan, the man at the center of it all, was called “Ge” (older brother) by everyone, but he wasn’t actually that old.
His features were striking, his brows and eyes exquisitely defined, and his skin so fair it practically glowed. Even among a crowd of exceptionally good-looking actors, he was the most beautiful, the most breathtaking.
It was a non-threatening kind of beauty, giving people the impression of someone gentle as water, easy to approach.
Faced with everyone’s flattery, Xin Ruan offered a polite, mild smile but said little, instead glancing down at his phone.
Someone sharp-eyed beside him noticed and teased with a laugh, “Xin Ge, why do you keep checking your phone tonight? Could it be that CEO Li is worried about your safety while you’re out and keeps urging you to come home?”
Xin Ruan’s lips curved at the words, and he said with a light laugh, “No.”
Yet there was not a trace of amusement in his upturned eyes, only a hint of disappointment that was hard to detect.
Today was the wrap party for the film crew of Ride the Wind. Xin Ruan had only filmed a third of his part in this drama before his scenes were heavily cut and he wrapped early.
The reason he wrapped early was that he had married Li Ran, the head of Wenyao Group.
Originally, his scenes didn’t need to be cut, he could have taken some time off and come back to film the rest.
But Xin Ruan had noticed the slight furrow in Li Ran’s brow when his agent called to urge him back to the set, so he had privately contacted the crew, paid the breach-of-contract penalty, and cut his remaining scenes.
It was also for this reason that, when the director invited him to the wrap party, he hadn’t wanted to come.
But the crew had extended the invitation repeatedly, and besides, he had wanted to test Li Ran’s reaction today, so he came.
Thinking of how his deliberate test had yielded this kind of result, the disappointment hidden in Xin Ruan’s eyes only deepened.
Disappointment piled up bit by bit, and combined with the deafening noise in the room, Xin Ruan grew increasingly restless. He felt a weight on his chest, as if he couldn’t breathe, so he made up some excuse and left the private room.
He walked quite a distance down the corridor, then turned a corner.
Only after making sure that anyone coming out of the private room wouldn’t see him did Xin Ruan slump against the wall, all the strength draining from his body. He rummaged around for a while before pulling out a cigarette.
The cigarette was crumpled, no telling how long it had been tucked away in his pocket.
He put it between his lips but didn’t light it.
Li Ran didn’t like the smell of smoke on him.
Xin Ruan lowered his eyes, his long lashes casting a dim shadow beneath them.
Perhaps it wasn’t quite right to say Li Ran didn’t like the smell of smoke on him. Rather, Li Ran didn’t like the smell of smoke and didn’t like him.
To Li Ran, he and cigarettes were equally detestable.
Heh.
There were bite marks on the cigarette’s filter. In the end, Xin Ruan still didn’t light it. Instead, he took out his phone.
He opened WeChat. The latest messages in the pinned chat were all from him.
【The Ride the Wind crew invited me to the wrap party. This is my last project before I leave the industry, and I’d like to go. I won’t be home for dinner tonight, is that okay?】