In the midst of her daze, the yacht suddenly lurched violently. Youyou lost her balance, fell hard, her knee slamming into the deck while her phone slipped from her hand, bouncing and skidding away.
Xiao Zexing set down his fishing rod and strode over quickly.
Under Youyou’s utterly stunned gaze, he precisely stepped on her phone with one foot.
Right now, the sharpest pain Youyou felt wasn’t in her leg—it was in her heart.
Xiao Zexing walked over, dropped to one knee, gripped her arm, and lifted her from the ground.
Her arm was pinched red in one spot.
But Youyou was still lost in the shock of her phone’s heroic sacrifice.
Aaaaaaaaah—she wanted so badly to know what the hell was going on!
Her arms were too slender, her waist too slim. As the man tightened his grip to help her up, Youyou didn’t even register it. She struggled to her feet, her entire attention fixed on the phone he had just crushed underfoot.
She wanted to cry.
Phone baby, don’t be scared! Mommy’s coming to save you!
Youyou’s hand trembled. As soon as she steadied herself, she pushed Xiao Zexing’s hand away, crouched down, and carefully picked up the phone.
Xiao Zexing stood in front of her without a flicker of expression, blocking her view.
Youyou looked at the pitiful little device and felt tears welling up with nowhere to fall.
The screen was completely black, spiderwebbed with cracks in every direction.
“Sorry, I didn’t see it just now,” Xiao Zexing said, looking down at her and at the shattered phone in her hand. “When we get back, I’ll have someone send you a new one.”
Youyou lifted her head in blank confusion.
It wasn’t about the phone—it was about the unfinished call with Zhao Manlan!
She still hadn’t figured out what was really going on with Xiao Weijing!
She replayed Zhao Manlan’s words from the call—
“Weijing didn’t go”
“He’s already been punished”
Only now did it hit her. Every previous time Zhao Manlan had apologized for Xiao Weijing missing an appointment, Youyou had assumed he was just being tsundere and hadn’t told his family.
In reality, the real Xiao Weijing had never shown up from the very beginning.
The man standing in front of her now didn’t look the least bit like someone who had just been disciplined.
But he looked… so much like Xiao Weijing.
He had attended Old Master Xiao’s birthday banquet. He had played polo together with Xiao Weijing. Now he was invited onto the yacht, familiar with her and Xiao Weijing’s situation…
While Youyou was still in a trance, Xiao Zexing had already bent down, taken the phone from her hand, flipped it over to inspect, then casually tossed it into the nearby trash bin. “It’s smashed beyond repair—no point fixing it.”
He took Youyou’s hand. His dimples appeared faintly as he smiled. “What’s wrong? You’re shaking like this. Are you cold?”
“…A little cold.”
Youyou wasn’t lying. Right now she genuinely felt chilled.
Half from the sea wind, half from the man in front of her.
He knew exactly who she was, while she knew nothing about him.
Youyou had the eerie sensation that she was nothing more than a toy in the palm of his hand.
Xiao Zexing released her hand and smiled. “The wind really picks up out here on the water. Since you can’t stand it, go back to your room for a while to get out of it.”
Youyou studied his expression but couldn’t detect anything unusual.
He knew her identity. He knew she was Xiao Weijing’s fiancée.
Yet Youyou had no idea what his intentions were.
And those eyes—identical to Xiao Weijing’s. The height was almost the same too.
The first time Youyou had met Xiao Weijing was at her grandfather’s funeral. He had just graduated university not long before—tall and thin in a black suit, a black silk ribbon tied around his arm. He stood beside her without a single smile.
Old Master Xiao’s word was law. Having promised her grandfather to take care of her, he simply paired her with Xiao Weijing.
And just like that, they were engaged in a muddled rush.
It started as a verbal agreement, but Old Master Xiao later felt it wasn’t solemn enough, so he gathered the family for a meal. Word spread quickly among acquaintances, and soon the engagement was public knowledge.
Everyone knew Tang Youyou was Xiao Weijing’s little fiancée.
And everyone knew Xiao Weijing couldn’t care less about her.
He was so indifferent that less than two weeks after the engagement, Xiao Weijing left the country to join Xiao Zexing.
Youyou recalled the last time she had seen Xiao Weijing.
He had been dressed impeccably in a suit, face expressionless, lips pressed into a cold, thin line.
His gaze when looking at people was icy, like shards of frozen glass.
Like a block of ice that had gained sentience, radiating an all-over “don’t come near me” aura.
After that, they had never seen each other again.
From that fall just now, Youyou’s elbow and knee were both scraped raw, seeping blood. Her knee had hit first and hardest—the wound looked vicious, blood flowing freely.
Medical staff hurried over with a first-aid kit.
Her long, slender legs were propped up. Cotton swabs dipped in alcohol carefully cleaned the tiny grains of sand around the wounds. When iodine was applied directly to the cuts, Youyou had braced herself mentally, but she still couldn’t help letting out a small hiss.
The injuries weren’t serious. The weather was too hot for bandaging. The doctor—knowing these people were all delicate—gave careful instructions and handed over ointment to prevent scarring.
Youyou listened half-heartedly. She was still lost in thoughts of the “real vs. fake Xiao Weijing.”
Snapping back from the shock, she hadn’t yet found a chance to question Xiao Zexing.
Asking outright seemed unwise—he might enjoy toying with her and refuse to tell the truth.
Youyou decided to look for any tiny clues in his behavior and the people around him first, then press him later.
Xiao Zexing was standing at the doorway talking to Deng Jue. Hao Yun poked his head out curiously, then quickly ducked back in.
Youyou didn’t know Hao Yun.
She didn’t know any of the friends in Xiao Weijing’s social circle—and had no desire to.
She watched Deng Jue hand Xiao Zexing a plate of cherries and say something. Xiao Zexing smiled, shook his head, gave Deng Jue a light punch on the shoulder, then carried the plate straight over and set it on the table beside Youyou.
He sat down beside her. “Anything else you want to eat?”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Want to play cards?”
Youyou’s mind wasn’t on it at all. She gave a casual hum, looked at him, and tentatively asked: “Weijing-gege, do you still remember what happened when we got engaged?”
Xiao Zexing instructed the server to bring over the card table, then turned to her. “What about it?”
“Back then, when we first met, I accidentally hurt my leg,” Youyou said calmly, lying through her teeth. She bit her lip, voice soft and hesitant. “It was you who carried me back on your back.”
As she spoke, Youyou’s heart pounded furiously. She watched Xiao Zexing’s expression closely, searching for the tiniest crack.
—There was none.
He sat there casually, in no hurry to speak, simply listening until she finished.
“You’ve got it wrong,” Xiao Zexing said with a smile. “I never carried you.”
Probe failed.
“Besides, our first meeting wasn’t at the engagement—it was at Old Mr. Tang’s funeral,” Xiao Zexing’s expression remained perfectly normal; if anything, he teased her. “What, did you hit your head and get amnesia from one little fall?”
Youyou gave a sweet smile. “I mixed it up.”
Her devoted-love persona had completely collapsed.
As for whether the white-lotus act was still salvageable, Youyou no longer cared.
She analyzed calmly.
On the way here, the driver had already explained: most of the people Old Master Xiao invited this time were either close friends of Xiao Weijing or peers from the same generation.
The Xiao family wasn’t that large. First, rule out Xiao Zexing.
Youyou remembered this “Second Uncle” was eight years older than her. She had met Xiao Weijing’s father, Xiao Zenian—beer belly impossible to hide. Subconsciously, she had pictured Second Uncle in a similar middle-aged shape.
Someone the same generation as Xiao Weijing, around the same age, and who looked very similar to him… the only possibility left was Liang Yan, the son of Xiao Weijing’s maternal aunt.
The driver had mentioned inviting Mr. Liang Yan as well.
While Youyou was still hesitating, the card table had already been set up. The staff efficiently arranged the chairs and dealt the cards.
Deng Jue brought his female companion along, plus six or seven other people Youyou didn’t know—men and women—who all first asked politely about her leg injury.
Youyou observed their expressions. Not a single one showed surprise at Xiao Zexing standing there.
She listened carefully to how they addressed him: all of them called him “Ge” (brother), never using his full name or rank.
Asking directly might make her look ridiculous. If she was supposed to be madly in love with Xiao Weijing, she couldn’t possibly be so careless as to not recognize him.
If word of that got out, her persona would shatter into dust.
Youyou pressed her lips together and sat down.
Hao Yun, intrigued and no longer interested in fishing, came over and asked: “What are you guys playing? Show-hand or Texas Hold’em?”
When he heard it was Texas Hold’em, he immediately shook his head and laughed. “You’re kidding, right?”
He didn’t finish the rest of the sentence.
Who could possibly beat Xiao Zexing at Texas Hold’em?
Everyone said poker was seventy percent skill, thirty percent luck.
In Hao Yun’s mind, Xiao Zexing had never lost.
Deng Jue didn’t mind. With enough players already, one less Hao Yun actually reduced the risk.
When the cards were dealt to Xiao Zexing, he smiled. “You guys play. I’ll just watch.”
Deng Jue let out a long breath of relief. “If Yan…”
He gave Youyou a meaningful glance and instantly corrected himself. “…if Ge isn’t playing, then we actually have a chance to win.”
Yan?
Liang Yan?
Youyou’s sharp instincts latched onto the word.
It matched her initial guess perfectly.
Suppressing the shock in her heart, she asked Xiao Zexing casually: “Are you really that good at cards?”
Xiao Zexing was sipping tea. He answered leisurely: “Average.”
Someone laughed. “If you call yourself average, then the rest of us are basically beginners.”
Deng Jue said to Youyou: “Don’t believe his modesty. He almost won the World Series of Poker championship back then. Guess how he lost? Tch—he got bored and folded on purpose.”
Youyou was stunned. She asked Xiao Zexing: “You folded?”
Xiao Zexing answered with perfect nonchalance: “It’s just a game. When you’ve had enough, you leave. What’s the problem?”
Deng Jue habitually reached for a cigarette. Xiao Zexing called him: “A-Jue.”
Deng Jue jolted, immediately tossed the cigarette into a nearby wine glass, let it sink to the bottom, and gave an awkward laugh. “Sorry, forgot.”
Though they were just playing for fun with no real money involved, it didn’t feel right without stakes. The female companions naturally took off their bracelets and necklaces and placed them on the table.
Youyou wasn’t wearing any jewelry. She was just thinking about sending someone to fetch something when Xiao Zexing unfastened the watch from his wrist and casually tossed it onto the table.
It gleamed coldly under the lights.
Youyou stared in shock. “This is…”
“Your chips.”
Someone laughed. “Damn, that’s ruthless. Who would dare win something of yours?”
Xiao Zexing remained utterly relaxed, lounging lazily beside Youyou. “What’s there to be afraid of? It’s just a game.”
Youyou had no choice but to grit her teeth and warn him: “Um… my card skills are terrible. I basically never win.”
“No problem,” Xiao Zexing said lightly, eyes curving with amusement. “The most important thing is to have fun.”
Youyou lived up to expectations and lost the watch in the very first round.
Deng Jue beamed, reached over and took it, sighing with emotion: “Never thought I’d live to see the day I win something from you.”
Youyou had been too busy puzzling over Xiao Zexing’s true identity and still angry at him for deceiving her. Now that she had lost his watch, guilt crept in unbidden.
She tossed her cards aside, about to say she was done, when Xiao Zexing calmly picked them up and pressed them back into her hand. He smiled. “Why so impatient? Keep playing. I’ll help you.”
Deng Jue immediately called out: “Then what about the chips?”
Xiao Zexing lifted his eyes to look at him, dimples faintly appearing: “How about using me as the stakes?”
He spoke unhurriedly, voice slightly low. Even an ordinary joke, coming from his mouth, carried a thread of deliberate provocation.
Youyou’s fingers trembled; she nearly dropped her cards.
Deng Jue’s female companion laughed: “If I’d known the stakes would be this high today, who knows how many young ladies would have fought to get on this yacht.”
Xiao Zexing held her cards in one hand, eyes focused on the table, smiling: “Youyou, you’d better focus now. If you lose me, there won’t be a second one.”
In this position, the two of them were holding the same hand of cards. Their fingers were very close—separated only by the width of a ring—close enough that Youyou could feel his body heat.
Faint, almost imperceptible.
Youyou had no choice but to pull herself together. She pricked up her ears, forcing herself to concentrate.
She rarely played cards and had zero confidence. Most of the time she simply followed Xiao Zexing’s instructions—whatever he told her to do, she did.
After several rounds, not only did she win the watch back, she ended up with quite a haul.
Youyou stared dazedly at the pile in front of her, about to say she’d return everything, when Xiao Zexing laughed and spoke first: “What you win is yours. Take it without worry.”
Xiao Zexing stood up, carefully fastened the recovered watch back onto his wrist, then lowered his gaze to her. Fine specks of light danced in his eyes: “This game was quite fun.”
The moment she got off the yacht and returned to the hotel, the first thing Youyou did was search for photos of Xiao Weijing online.
Her phone was broken and she didn’t have a spare. The computer version of WeChat required a phone scan to log in, which made Youyou so angry she nearly vomited blood.
She couldn’t even remember Zhao Manlan’s phone number to ask indirectly.
She could only futilely search Xiao Weijing’s name on the computer.
Results came up quickly.
Excluding duplicates and people with the same name, there weren’t many news articles about Xiao Weijing—just a handful of photos.
Youyou stared at the screen for a long time and finally confirmed it.
Though the brows and eyes were similar, she could still tell—this wasn’t the man who had played cards with her that afternoon.
When Xiao Weijing smiled, he had no dimples.
Youyou gritted her teeth and typed “Liang Yan” into the search bar.
She scrolled down—
There were many Liang Yans with the same characters, but none was the one she was looking for.
Just as she was going through them one by one, someone knocked on the door.
Youyou looked through the peephole and saw Xiao Zexing.
He had already changed clothes—still the same eternal shirt and dress trousers.
Youyou glanced at the glass on the table, gritted her teeth, deliberately smashed one, gripped the jagged base with the sharp edges facing outward, hid it behind her back, and lightly opened the door.
She kept her hands behind her, stepped back, lifted her face, and smiled: “Why are you here at this time?”
“To check on your wounds.”
The moment Xiao Zexing fully stepped inside, Youyou slammed the door shut, pressed her back against it, gripped the broken shard tightly, and suddenly pointed it at him. She didn’t dare blink.
She demanded: “You’re not Xiao Weijing.”
She jabbed the jagged glass toward him again: “Who the hell are you?”
Youyou thought this pose would be utterly intimidating—at the very least, it would shock the man in front of her.
But Xiao Zexing merely lifted his eyes to glance at her, then sat calmly at the round table without a ripple of emotion. He interlaced his fingers and countered: “What do you think?”
Youyou didn’t answer. Lips pressed tight, she kept gripping the shard.
The warning was unmistakable. She edged the broken edge a little closer toward him: “Cut the crap. Tell me.”
Xiao Zexing finally stood up. Under Youyou’s horrified gaze, he easily caught her wrist.
Before she could react, her wrist went numb. The broken glass slipped from her hand.
Before it hit the floor, Xiao Zexing caught the base steadily, then casually tossed it into the nearby trash bin. He didn’t approve: “Don’t play with such dangerous things.”
In that single instant, Youyou finally realized the vast gap between them.
In Xiao Zexing’s eyes, she was weak beyond measure.
She had no power to resist him at all.
Not physically, and not in any other way.
“What are you afraid of?” Xiao Zexing lowered his gaze to her, released her hand, let her go, and teased lightly: “What, do you think I’m going to eat you?”
He deliberately emphasized the word “eat,” drawing it out slowly.
Youyou vaguely sensed he meant something by it, but she couldn’t quite grasp what.
Xiao Zexing sat back down, leisurely poured a cup of tea, placed it on the empty seat beside him, then poured one for himself.
The lamplight gathered around him. His dimples were faint, making him look even more gentle and harmless: “Youyou, sit down. Let’s have a proper talk.”
Youyou could only sit stiffly.
Every nerve taut.
In the white porcelain cup, green tea leaves unfurled slowly, releasing a light fragrance.
She took a sip—bitter.
Aftertaste brought a faint sweetness.
Youyou wasn’t used to tea and set it down again.
Xiao Zexing waited until she put the cup aside before speaking unhurriedly: “I didn’t expect you to only figure it out now.”
The single sentence nearly made Youyou explode.
How could she possibly have guessed he wasn’t?
From their very first meeting, their conversations had flowed so smoothly. Later—at Old Master Xiao’s birthday banquet, on the polo field—everything had continued without a hitch. Add his face to the mix, and Youyou had never even considered any other possibility.
Youyou tried to salvage her dignity, lifting her chin with haughty coolness: “That’s because I’ve been observing you secretly all along.”
“Oh?” Xiao Zexing looked intrigued. “And from your observations, who do you think I am?”
Youyou felt uneasy under his gaze and averted her eyes.
She had never met anyone this difficult to handle.
This man was like an old fox. He clearly knew she had mistaken him, yet he kept it hidden, said nothing, and simply watched her performance with amusement—like watching a child throw a tantrum, smiling as she fussed and flailed…
He knew everything, yet said nothing.
The moment Youyou thought about all the fawning, the sweetness, the obedient act she had put on in front of him, she felt a deep, suffocating wave of humiliation.
—All those white-lotus and devoted-love personas had completely collapsed in front of him.
No wonder all her efforts to act pitiful hadn’t managed to rack up any disgust points. Turns out she had been grinding favor with the wrong person from the very beginning.
Youyou stared at him, trying to spot any flaw on his face: “Zhao Manlan has a twin sister, Zhao Manzhi, who married into the Liang family. Just one month before Xiao Weijing was born, Zhao Manzhi gave birth to the Liang family’s eldest son—Liang Yan.”
Xiao Zexing didn’t rush to speak. He simply drank his tea, slow and unhurried.
Perfectly calm.
Youyou pressed on in one breath: “I’m guessing you’re Liang Yan.”
After she finished, Xiao Zexing paused with his hand on the cup before gently setting it down.
His smile deepened, dimples faintly visible: “Youyou, you’re smarter than I imagined.”
Author’s Note: Strong reactions, so I have to explain a bit—
If Youyou found out right now that he’s Second Uncle—Xiao Weijing’s elder—she would never keep being honest with him.
She’d just avoid him completely.
Second Uncle is the classic old-fox archetype. The person isn’t in his hands yet—how could he let Youyou distance herself first? QAQ