The owner of the pinky ring wore an indifferent expression, containing not a shred of emotion in his eyes as he uttered a single “Mn” in response, extremely cold and detached.
Sheng Yuan rubbed his fingers anxiously behind his back. During the time he waited for Uncle’s reply, his palms oozed with sticky sweat.
Mu Xun was so nervous that his scalp tightened, not daring to shake even a single strand of hair out of place.
When facing his uncle, he always felt a sense of dread.
Rather than saying this feeling was a form of respect for an elder, it was more like an oppression stemming from a disparity in status.
It felt as though a mountain storm were about to break, and merely standing before him was enough to make one’s heart beat in terror.
“His name is Sheng Yuan.” Sensing that his uncle’s gaze had fallen upon their intertwined hands, Mu Xun hurried to introduce his fiancée: “We got engaged last month…… You were still abroad at the time, so you didn’t get to meet him.”
The thunderous heartbeat gradually subsided. Sheng Yuan’s mind was blank, like a puppet whose spirit had been drawn out, with only his gaze following that pinky ring.
Upward from the pinky ring was the cold, pale skin vaguely exposed from the sleeve.
A bright red, tiny round mole on the inner side of the wrist, like a mosquito bite, seemed to be the only vibrant splash of color on this man who was strictly divided into black and white.
“Sheng, Yuan.”
For some reason, Mu Xiaoduo suddenly pronounced his name one syllable at a time.
The voice, processed through the hearing aid and sinking into his ears, sounded like the gentle vibration of a cello string.
Inside his body, it felt as though a hand were pulling Sheng Yuan’s heart downward by a notch.
The rose petal in his palm was accidentally crushed by his fingers. His lips parted slightly as he wanted to reply, yet no sound came out.
Mu Xiaoduo cast a sidelong glance at him, his voice as low and cool as water: “Of age yet?”
Mu Xun answered: “Just turned twenty, still in university. He looks a bit like a high schooler, doesn’t he?”
With autumn-water-like calm eyes, Mu Xiaoduo understood and asked no further.
“Xiao Xun? What are you two standing here for? Take a seat anywhere.”
Yu Yan brushed past their side, trailing a path of orchid fragrance as she gracefully seated herself beside Mu Xiaoduo, her fair fingers interlocked: “Still just as afraid of your uncle.”
Mu Xun gave a brief, short laugh, taking it as an acknowledgment.
Yu Yan was the daughter of the manor’s owner, her long hair pinned in a low knot, and her lightly powdered face possessed quite a bit of classical beauty charm.
The two of them sitting together were extremely pleasing to the eye, drawing successive gazes from those around them.
Sheng Yuan sat quietly in the corner, his fingers gently smoothing out the curled and wrinkled edges of the petals.
Yet he was not focused, occasionally lifting his eyes to let his gaze drift over on a whim.
The banquet was filled with overlapping figures, the curved walls of tall wine glasses reflecting intertwining dance postures, yet he seemed able to see only Mu Xiaoduo.
He half-leaned against the soft armchair, his long legs lazily crossed, occasionally exchanging a few words with the person beside him, his posture remaining upright even when relaxed.
Mu Xiaoduo was not the protagonist of this banquet, yet he made everyone else look like mere foils.
Even with a great beauty like Yu Yan accompanying his side, he did not have a shred of his radiance stolen away.
There were always people coming and going before him, and even well-known business tycoons in Yunchuan would pile smiles all over their faces when seeing him, carrying their wine glasses over to toast him with obsequious eagerness.
Therefore, most of the time, Sheng Yuan was only permitted to catch sight of a section of dark, heavy black fabric.
Yu Yan beside him wore an apricot-colored shimmering long dress, the hem sliding down along her snow-white skin to rest upon the man’s expensive leather shoes.
In the dark, lightless corner beneath the table, the hem of her skirt lingeringly kissed the pitch-black leather surface.
As if scalded, Sheng Yuan abruptly retracted his gaze.
Half a dark-purple cherry suddenly intruded into his field of vision.
“Open your mouth.” Pinching a fork, Mu Xun offered the fruit right to his lips.
Mu Xun restrained himself by more than a mere fraction in front of Mu Xiaoduo, not touching alcohol at all and only eating the fruit platter before him.
Although he knew his uncle wouldn’t pay attention, he had still put away the Patek Philippe on his wrist, buttoned his collar meticulously all the way up, and pushed his tie all the way to the top.
Simply because his uncle had once demanded that the Mu family’s style of conduct be low-key and never ostentatious.
Sheng Yuan remained silent, staring straight at Mu Xun as if trying to drill a hole in his face.
Mu Xun felt somewhat flattered, seeing that Sheng Yuan used to be unwilling to spare even half a glance for him. The corners of his lips curved upward as he said shamelessly, “Handsome?”
“……Hard to say,” Sheng Yuan replied.
Whether in looks or temperament, Mu Xun and his uncle did not share a single shred of similarity.
Mu Xun’s appearance was light and his temperament frivolous, like a draft of wind blowing through a hall.
Mu Xiaoduo’s temperament resembled a pine tree shrouded in frost, with even the wind blowing past him turning biting and stern.
If one didn’t know beforehand, no matter who looked, they wouldn’t feel there was any blood relation between them.
Mu Xun grew displeased: “If it looks good, say it looks good; if it doesn’t look good, say it doesn’t look good. What does ‘hard to say’ even mean?”
“It’s just……” Sheng Yuan couldn’t describe it, “You and Uncle look too unlike each other.”
“Just because we don’t look alike doesn’t mean he’s not handsome, right?”
Sheng Yuan nodded honestly, adding a supplementary remark as if making up for it: “It’s not that he’s not handsome…… it’s, it’s not handsome enough, not as handsome as Uncle.”
Mu Xun was angered to laughter by him, holding up the cherry and making mischief by smearing it across Sheng Yuan’s lips, painting the red juice onto his pair of lips as though he had smeared on a streak of lipstick.
Sheng Yuan frowned, and the moment he opened his mouth, it was blocked again by the cherry.
Chuckling playfully, Mu Xun pinched the handle of the fork and pushed the fruit into his mouth.
In the eyes of the surrounding people, they truly looked like an intimate little couple flirting and publicly showing affection without a care for those around them.
“.Xiaoduo, are you listening?” Yu Yan looked at the man beside her in surprise, unable to keep herself from voicing a reminder.
Mu Xiaoduo detachedly withdrew his gaze: “Apologies, what did you say?”
Yu Yan raised a hand to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear, speaking in a gentle tone: “The auctioneer has already arrived, let’s take our seats as well.”
“Mn.”
Yu Yan lowered her eyes, her mood turning somewhat despondent.
Tonight, Mu Xiaoduo was always absent-minded; people coming and going to offer toasts came in a steady stream, yet the liquid in his glass never seemed to decrease, while he would occasionally gaze abstractedly at a certain spot without shifting away for a long time.
A tall shadow fell beside her, and Yu Yan linked her arm through Mu Xiaoduo’s, her fingertips brushing against the fabric of his suit in a fleeting, cold, and rigid touch.
Even though she and Mu Xiaoduo were pressed this close, she had never felt that she truly touched him.
Quietly turning her head, Yu Yan looked toward the direction he had just been staring at.
Sheng Yuan happened to look over in this direction as well, accidentally crossing paths with Yu Yan’s gaze in a momentary flash of astonishment.
The woman smiled gently, her brows and eyes warm and demure, quickly withdrawing her gaze.
“Mu Xun,” Sheng Yuan motioned for him to lower his head a bit, “is that Uncle’s girlfriend?”
“You mean Yu Yan? She almost became my aunt,” Mu Xun lowered his voice and said. “She’s my uncle’s childhood sweetheart, a famously great beauty. Anyone looking would think they match perfectly, right?”
Sheng Yuan nodded.
Piqued by gossip, Mu Xun continued: “I heard from my mom that Yu Yan has liked my uncle since she was a kid and was determined to marry no one else. The two families had a good relationship and thought it was a suitable match, so when they reached marriageable age, they arbitrarily made the decision to set their engagement……”
Sheng Yuan pulled out a chair and sat down, turning his body toward Mu Xun as he pressed on: “And then?”
Leaning forward closely, Mu Xun mysteriously used his bidding paddle to block his face: “My uncle found out about this, went straight to the Yu family to call off the engagement, and didn’t care about the two families’ friendship in the slightest.”
“Uncle holds absolute rule at home. Ever since he clearly stated his stance on celibacy, apart from our family’s old patriarch, no one dares to pressure him.”
Sheng Yuan nodded understandingly, reaching out to push Mu Xun away as he sat up straight in his chair.
Discarded the moment he finished using him, utterly merciless.
He had heard a thing or two about the Mu family’s affairs; even though the old master of the Mu family meaning Mu Xiaoduo’s father was still in robust health, the true power-holder of the Mu family had long since become Mu Xiaoduo.
In earlier years, the Mu family had encountered a severe financial crisis and teetered on the verge of bankruptcy. It was Mu Xiaoduo, who had returned from abroad not long before, taking charge of the management that brought the enterprise back from the dead.
Over these past few years, the Mu Group had commanded the wind and rain in Yunchuan, and Mu Xiaoduo had already become the chairman of the Mu Group, the tyrannical and all-powerful dictator of the Mu family……
The lights dimmed abruptly, and an auctioneer wearing a fitted qipao stepped onto the stage, offering a graceful greeting: “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Zige Wei Manor charity auction. Tonight’s auction items total items, which have already been announced in……”
The auctioneer began reciting the auction rules, and Sheng Yuan subconsciously looked back, gazing diagonally behind him.
Mu Xiaoduo was casually leafing through the auction catalog; when turning the pages, it would tug at the small red mole on the inner side of his wrist, while the pinky ring accompanying him faithfully flashed in and out of view amidst the faint, cold light.
Whatever the auctioneer was saying, he couldn’t hear a single word of it.
The banquet was a vast sea of people, paper-gold and intoxicated with luxury.
Sheng Yuan looked at him repeatedly.
That person whom he could never touch did not sink into the myriad red dust of the mortal world, seemingly indifferent to all living beings.
Yet, his actions, which he believed to be covert, were quickly discovered by Mu Xun.
Glancing repeatedly toward the direction Sheng Yuan was gazing, he finally arrived at a belated realization: “Sheng Yuan, your thoughts are really easy to read.”
The voice was clear and audible in his ear, causing Sheng Yuan to freeze abruptly.
Immediately afterward, Mu Xun pressed his fingertips against the corner of Sheng Yuan’s eyes, returning those exact words right back to him: “Whatever you’re thinking, it’s all leaked out through your eyes.”
At that instant, Sheng Yuan desperately wanted to flee. Embarrassment and humiliation flooded over his heart, surging into his chest and flowing out as astringent, bitter water.
Lowering his gaze without a word, the corner of the auction catalog was rubbed into wrinkles by his fingers.
“Uncle and we are not people from the same world. He is glorious, bright, and revered by thousands, someone no one can ever hope to reach. At least I have never seen anyone manage to enter his world. It was like that before, and it will be like that in the future……”
The words Mu Xun let fall so lightly stabbed fiercely into that frail heart.
“He is not someone you can covet.”