The bathroom was dim and hazy, a faint fruity-floral fragrance lingering in the air.
Unsure of what he intended to do, He Cheng held her breath and stiffened, her nerves crackling like sparks. The aggression and danger in his eyes pressed down on her like a heavy darkness, pinning her in place. She wanted to scream for help, but her throat felt glued shut—no sound would come.
Zong Xubai lowered his lashes and pulled the silk scarf from around his neck and shoulders. Without that covering, his shirt, with its three undone buttons, hung loosely on his frame, revealing the defined contours of his chest—refined yet roguish.
He Cheng inhaled sharply, her eyes going wide.
Not knowing what he would do next, she instinctively wrapped her arms around herself in a defensive posture, scolding him with a mix of shock and horror. "You—why are you taking off your clothes… Put them back on!"
He curved his lips, answering dutifully, "It's a scarf."
"The scarf is not allowed either!"
He let out a low laugh, his dark eyes wicked and unrestrained. Without a hint of hesitation, he pressed the square of silk against her delicate, rosy lips with his long fingers, a glimmer of light dancing in his gaze. "Wipe it off. Then I'll let you go."
The scarf that suddenly covered her lips carried his body heat and a bitter, crisp fragrance. The scent hit her like a blow, sending a tingle through her scalp. The moment she nervously pressed her hand over the scarf, his fingers immediately released it.
She just wanted to leave as quickly as possible, so she stopped resisting and questioning. Bowing her head with furrowed brows, she wiped her mouth haphazardly with the scarf.
She wasn't sure if she'd gotten it all off, but she stopped when it felt right and hurled the scarf at his chest. The lightweight silk brushed against his shirt and chest before fluttering to the floor like a discarded, unwanted thing.
Her heart pounded like a drum. Without another word, she shoved past his arm and bolted out of his confinement.
The person in his arms slipped away like a fish, her shoes tapping out hurried footsteps on the smooth floor.
Zong Xubai lowered his gaze, bent down, and picked it up. The pale scarf was stained with a faint lipstick mark. He ran his thumb over it, folded the scarf into a triangle, and lifted his long lashes to look at the mirror.
He adjusted his collar with deliberate slowness.
Without the slightest concern, he pressed the scarf against his right shoulder and neck, wrapped it around the back of his neck once, and tied a knot at his left collarbone. The remaining length of silk was neatly tucked into his open shirt, covering the exposed expanse of his chest.
The smudged lip print hung clearly at his shoulder and neck.
As if her lips had landed on the side of his neck.
He stared at that mark, a cold glint flashing in his dark eyes.
He Cheng had no idea how she'd managed to run all the way back to the private room. Several times along the way, her legs nearly gave out and she almost fell.
The image of Zong Xubai teasing her with his words haunted her, refusing to leave her mind.
Those shameless words couldn't be shaken off. They clung to her like cotton candy—sticky, wrapping around her layer by layer.
Soiling her entire body.
Her throat was tight and dry, a chill running through her.
She pushed open the door to the private room. Ye Yanzhi was slumped over the table, resting. He Cheng slung her canvas bag over her shoulder and, without a second thought, shoved him, calling his name, trying to wake him up.
But Ye Yanzhi was dead drunk, showing no sign of stirring.
Panic set in. She pushed his shoulder harder, shaking him. "Yanzhi, wake up, Yanzhi…"
Roused from his stupor, Ye Yanzhi frowned in discomfort, his handsome face flushed red. Even with his eyes closed, he kept murmuring, "Chengcheng…"
In her frantic attempt to wake Ye Yanzhi, He Cheng completely failed to notice that Zong Xubai had already returned. He sat down in a nearby chair, casting a faint glance over. She was genuinely anxious and desperate—she was shaking Ye Yanzhi so hard his body might fall apart.
He tapped his fingertips lightly on the table. "He's drunk. I'll have someone carry him down in a bit. Sit for a while."
The voice that appeared out of nowhere startled He Cheng. Her heart lurched, and she instinctively jumped away in the opposite direction, nearly screaming.
Once she recovered, she said nothing, staring at the scarf draped over his shoulder and neck. Her lipstick was still printed on it, as if it were intimately biting and kissing his pale, long neck.
She only glanced at it once before her face flushed with heat. Was he out of his mind?
She wanted to leave this place of trouble as fast as she could. Hurriedly, she tried to help Ye Yanzhi up.
But with the difference in their weight and height, and the fact that he was completely unconscious in his drunken state, it was extremely difficult to lift him.
Almost his entire weight pressed down on He Cheng's shoulder.
Her small, frail frame wobbled precariously, the slender calves beneath her white skirt nearly buckling. She bit her lip, using every ounce of strength she had to drag him up.
She was stubborn and headstrong, willing to bend herself crooked if it meant carrying Ye Yanzhi on her back. Zong Xubai was almost amused into laughter by her determination and her refusal to abandon Ye Yanzhi.
Her eagerness to not spend another moment with him, her ruthlessness in not sparing him a single extra glance—it made him laugh, but as he did, a cold gray settled over his eyes, and his smile froze.
He rose, his tall figure standing beside her. He grabbed her arm to stop her. "Don't be stubborn. I told you to sit."
His body temperature was a little cool, his pampered palm covering her skin—sticky and clinging, like candy that had just melted. He Cheng yanked her arm away in alarm, stepping back two paces, lowering her eyes and pressing her lips together.
The sensation on her arm lingered. Uncomfortable, she rubbed it away with her other palm.
Her fair skin turned slightly red from the friction.
Zong Xubai watched her movements.
His expression was grim.
The private room was utterly silent. He Cheng found it unbearable, afraid that Zong Xubai might say something her heart couldn't withstand.
Fortunately, a male waiter entered quickly. His face, which had been politely smiling, immediately sobered upon seeing the icy atmosphere between the two. He wisely suppressed his smile and focused on his work.
He easily hoisted the man onto his back.
He Cheng hurried after him, catching a glimpse of a gaze lingering on her from the corner of her eye. She didn't dare look back.
She wondered inwardly how Ye Yanzhi could have gotten so dead drunk. She didn't know what kind of liquor this was, but she was certain she'd never let him drink again.
When they reached the ground floor, the waiter carried Ye Yanzhi straight toward the license plate reading 【HK·ZHB6】.
He Cheng panicked and immediately stopped him.
They couldn't go to that car—it was Zong Xubai's. She feared walking deeper into the tiger's den; she didn't have the energy to deal with him right now.
The waiter asked where to put him.
The road was bustling with traffic, and the dazzling neon lights flickered across He Cheng's anxious brows. She pulled out her phone—the red battery icon in the top right corner showing only 15% made her delicate brows furrow even deeper.
Ye Yanzhi had booked a hotel in Hong Kong long ago. He'd sent her a WeChat screenshot back then. She scrolled through the chat history and finally found the hotel address he'd booked half a month prior.
The battery dropped another 5%.
She frantically searched the map for how to get there by public transport.
It was then that Uncle Bing approached. He'd received instructions from Zong Xubai on his phone to help support the unconscious Ye Yanzhi.
"Put him in the car."
"No!" He Cheng looked up at Uncle Bing, her voice twice as loud as usual. Both men were startled and turned to look at her simultaneously.
Her palm-sized face was beaded with fine sweat, glistening wetly in the light. Realizing she'd overreacted, she said awkwardly, "I'll take a taxi to the hotel myself."
"Taxis in Hong Kong are expensive. No need to spend money you don't have to," Uncle Bing advised honestly.
His words did hit home for He Cheng. Hong Kong taxis were pricey, and getting to the hotel from here would cost a fortune. Though she could grit her teeth and afford it, it still stung.
Zong Xubai emerged from the building. Seeing Ye Yanzhi still on the waiter's back, he furrowed his brow, having underestimated He Cheng's stubbornness.
He walked over with ease. "You think it's safe to wander the streets of Hong Kong carrying a dead-drunk man? Get in the car."
He Cheng's spine stiffened. She refused. "No need."
Zong Xubai gave her a cool sidelong glance. "A few words scared you this much?"
"Planning never to contact me again?"
He Cheng hadn't had time to think about the future. She'd just gone through that ordeal in the restroom, and his words had completely rewritten her understanding of him. Whether he'd been scheming for a long time or acting on a whim, she didn't want to be alone with him right now. She didn't know how to face him.
In the future, if it wasn't necessary, not contacting him would be best.
But he was her sponsor. She couldn't cut off contact entirely—there would always be some communication.
Zong Xubai's words seemed to be either a wake-up call or a genuine question seeking an answer.
He Cheng's shoulders sagged, and she let out a faint sigh.
The neon lights fell into her eyes, and the evening breeze swept across her trembling lashes. She said in a low voice, "If I can help it, I'll try not to contact you."
Zong Xubai's cold face turned even more frigid. He spoke expressionlessly, "He Cheng, as long as I want to, you can't hide from me."
Each light, airy word landed on He Cheng like boulders rolling over stone, crushing her until she could barely breathe. She clutched the hem of her dress, her clear, bright eyes glaring at him. In an instant, everything had changed.
His voice, his face—they made her blood run cold.
They sat in the same seats as when they'd arrived.
Ye Yanzhi was completely unconscious, flushed red from his ears to his neck, slumped without any posture, occasionally letting out a pained groan.
Uncle Bing asked which hotel, and He Cheng gave the address.
The cold, crisp scent of the car's aromatherapy filled the quiet interior.
He Cheng regretted letting them put Ye Yanzhi in the car first. Sitting in the middle, she felt like she was on pins and needles. From the corner of her eye, she saw that white figure lounging relaxed against the seat back, legs crossed.
She kept her spine ramrod straight, her skirt hem falling to her calves, staring at the street scene beyond the windshield.
Zong Xubai sat half-turned behind her, watching the back of her head. Her shoulders and neck were even more tense than at their first meeting, her thin back kept as far from him as possible.
His gaze traveled from her dark hair downward, settling on her waist, then her skirt hem.
The skirt pooled down from the seat.
He uncrossed his legs, and the smooth white fabric of his trousers brushed against her white dress. She sensed it immediately and gathered the wide skirt between her legs.
Clamping it neatly shut.
A curve lifted the corner of Zong Xubai's lips. He leaned forward.
The leather seat creaked, and He Cheng's back straightened in alert. A long arm reached past her line of sight, pulling two tissues from the center console and handing them to her. "Wipe yourself off. Isn't all that sweat uncomfortable?"
He Cheng swallowed, mechanically taking the tissues and gently dabbing at the beads of sweat on her face.
Zong Xubai gazed at her pale face, fairly satisfied.
She no longer said thank you, nor did she use "you" or "Mr. Zong."
Speaking plainly had had some effect after all.
Uncle Bing, driving, occasionally glanced at the rearview mirror. The back seat was as still as a morgue—a suffocating silence that threatened to swallow him whole too. After a left turn, he heard a murmur, again and again.
It was Ye Yanzhi calling He Cheng's name.
He Cheng held his hand, replying "I'm here" over and over.
Following the motion, Ye Yanzhi's hands found He Cheng's arms and pulled them into his embrace, like hugging a beloved toy. She had only been sitting at the edge, and with Ye Yanzhi tugging her like this, both her arms were pulled backward—maintaining this position was hardly comfortable.
Her skin was thin, and she felt too embarrassed to lean into Ye Yanzhi's embrace.
She could only endure it.
Suddenly, a pair of slender hands appeared in her vision, calmly and forcefully prying apart Ye Yanzhi's grip.
Her arms were freed.
"Doesn't this position make your arms sore?"
They were sore.
But what business was it of his?
Wasn't he overstepping?
From the rearview mirror, He Cheng seemed to be gathered into Zong Xubai's embrace, her taut back pressed against his chest. With a gentle pull, Zong Xubai shifted her slightly toward him.
Originally, there had been a gap between Zong Xubai and He Cheng, but now the two of them had isolated Ye Yanzhi together.
He Cheng struggled, her hips sliding back to Ye Yanzhi's side, her eyes wide as she glared warily at Zong Xubai.
Her subconscious resistance and distance made Zong Xubai deeply uncomfortable. Dropping all pretense, he grabbed her elbow and pulled her toward him. She was too thin—her body lifted off the seat under his tug, and he forcibly seated her on his lap.
In just a few seconds, the scene had escalated to this.
The danger level skyrocketed to its peak.
Her mind exploded with alarm. This sitting position filled her with shame and fear. She turned to face him directly, flustered and at a loss, bracing her hands against his chest.
The scorching skin beneath his thin fabric was somewhat rough against her palms. Uncomfortable, she simply clenched his clothes instead—only to grab hold of the smooth, expensive silk scarf, whose loose knot came undone easily.
The genuine silk scarf slid out from his chest with a silky glide, slipping down like a snake.
His lean muscles were now fully exposed, and his loose shirt began to hang precariously again.
Who even dresses like this?!
He Cheng froze, quickly tossed aside the useless scarf, and grabbed the lapels of his shirt again, pulling them together in the middle to cover that expanse of porcelain-white skin that invited all sorts of thoughts.
The fabric tried to slip from her grasp several times, so she devoted more attention to gripping an extra inch, until nearly every movable piece of fabric was gathered in both her hands.
She clutched it like gold.
She wrung his rakish attire back into a proper shape.
The taut fabric outlined his physique.
His muscles faintly showed through.
Even so, his neck remained straight as he looked down at her face. Her skin was flushed, her fluffy hair messily piled around her chin, a few strands clinging to her pink lips, rising and falling gently with each breath.
Her body was clearly tense, resistant, and afraid—clutching his clothes like a protective talisman—yet she still looked up at him with a stubborn expression, as if ready to fight him at any moment.
Her adorable appearance drained away all his irritation. A faint smile bloomed at the corners of his lips. "Are you planning to tear my clothes apart?"
At his teasing remark, He Cheng's face paled. She gritted her teeth but refused to let go.
He gazed at her softly, his voice low, magnetic, and gentle. "If you want to tear them, go ahead."
"You can tear them."
He was saying nonsensical things again.
He Cheng refused to follow his wishes. She released his clothes and shoved his chest hard. She thought she wouldn't be able to push him, but unexpectedly, he cooperated fully, falling back into the seat with a soft thud that echoed in the small space.
He wasn't the least bit annoyed. The corner of his lips curled into a lingering smile, and behind his glasses, those peach-blossom eyes were as enchanting as a spring breeze.
He looked at her with a languid, half-dead air.
His shirt was already beyond recognition—the satin fabric wrinkled and crumpled, his lean muscles completely exposed, flowing harmlessly yet seductively in the air, looking like he'd been bullied by her.
He Cheng was stunned, unsure what game he was playing.
On the other side, Ye Yanzhi let out another long groan, startling her into anxiously glancing over, thinking he'd sobered up. But his head just lolled toward the window, breathing evenly.
She let out a sigh of relief and shot back to the middle seat like lightning, her body still trembling.
"You were the one who crossed the line first."
"If you keep talking like this, I'm afraid I won't be able to keep meeting you in the future."
Even a sponsor couldn't act like this—a sponsor had to respect her.
Three strikes, and this was already the second time. But he showed no restraint whatsoever, repeatedly saying words without boundaries and making overstepping moves. She was truly terrified. All she wanted right now was to hide.
And in the future, she'd hide too—never see him again.
Only contact him through text messages or emails online, like before she'd gone to the hillside villa.
Zong Xubai eyed her for a long moment, his dark pupils gradually deepening. The smile at his lips faded. In that same posture, he took off his gold-rimmed glasses and leisurely wiped the lenses with a handkerchief.
The warm orange light inside the car fell on his long lashes, a pale yellow shadow veiling his emotions.
His thin lips slowly formed words: "He Cheng, I truly want to date you."
"If you can't break it off, I don't mind you having one on each side, like right now."
Each word landed on He Cheng like a blow.
She went limp, her shoulders sagging.
She had already made herself clear—if he treated her like that again, they would stop meeting and contacting each other. Yet he hadn't retreated or hidden anything at all. Instead, he kept advancing, going even further.
Even this time, his tone was more serious, but did seriousness mean sincerity?
It sounded more like an announcement.
What did he mean by not minding her having someone on each side like now?
She didn't understand.
If he didn't mind being the other man, did that mean others had to accept him as one?
She felt a bit of indignation rising inside her—why should she be forced to accept something she didn't want?
She took a deep breath, gripping the edge of her seat tightly.
"Maybe Hong Kong and the mainland have different cultures, but where I'm from, people who say things like that are called shameless mistresses. I already made it very clear in the restroom—this kind of behavior of yours is something people despise."
"I don't want you to be despised, and I don't want to be despised either. I don't accept your proposal."
"Our values don't align. Let's try to see each other as little as possible from now on."
Uncle Bing swallowed hard, gripping the steering wheel without daring to move. This was the first time he'd seen this young master take such an interest in a girl, yet she wasn't having any of it—and when he tried to force himself on her, she was outright repulsed.
He'd never witnessed anything like this. No one would believe it if he told them.
He couldn't even guess what this young master's next words would be, or how earth-shattering they might be.
Zong Xubai put his glasses back on unhurriedly. "I'm glad you don't want me to be wronged."
He glanced at her, a faint smile forming at the corners of his eyes. "Then I'm afraid Ye Yanzhi will have to be the one wronged."
"Break up with him. Let's date."
What?
He Cheng stared at him in shock, unable to follow his logic. When had she ever said she didn't want him to be wronged as the other man? And he had the audacity to tell her to break up with her boyfriend.
He was truly insane.
She was stunned and hurt.
At this moment, the ache of bitterness outweighed her fear.
She couldn't understand why everything had changed in just one night. She still refused to believe this was Zong Xubai.
She thought of the years before they'd met—how he'd funded her education, patiently sent her a long text analyzing the advantages of HKU's programs, how at their first formal meeting on the Mid-Levels he'd been gentle and gentlemanly, never mocking her for being unsophisticated, helping her fasten her seatbelt, and finding her a doctor and sending her traditional medicine when she was sick…
Scene after scene—his warmth, his kindness, like an angel.
But angels had agendas.
Now that everything had been laid bare today, He Cheng felt a strange sense of relief. She'd previously berated herself and spiraled with guilt for suspecting Zong Xubai's kindness had ulterior motives. Now that she knew he truly did have hidden intentions, the weight of that uncertainty finally settled.
She stiffened her neck and said firmly yet gently,
"I can't possibly break up with Yanzhi. If you want to date someone, there are plenty of people to choose from. Why me? What are you after?"
The coldness in Zong Xubai's eyes seeped out bit by bit, freezing her body. Having too much morality and principle wasn't necessarily a good thing—no matter how he put it, she simply wouldn't have him.
In her eyes, he was worthless.
He lazily tilted his head back and let out a hoarse chuckle.
Then, suddenly.
His mist-like eyes slanted toward her deeply. "Who told you I've taken a liking to you."
"Don't say you have a boyfriend—even if you were married, I'd still seduce you."
"I've always taken good care of myself. Restraint and well-wishes? That's not something I'm capable of."
Taken a liking to her?
He Cheng couldn't believe it. What was there to like about her?
She also couldn't tell where his liking came from. To him, "liking" seemed as casual as saying he liked tonight's meal, that it suited his taste, or that today's sunset was beautiful and he liked it.
He could say he liked anything in the world.
Even if she were married, he'd still seduce her.
The sheer horror of that statement made her involuntarily close her eyes. Such an immoral thing to say, and he'd said it without a shred of shame.
Were all those refined, gentlemanly manners just an act?
Each sentence was more outrageous than the last.
She couldn't process it all in such a short time, and she truly didn't know how to respond to him. Every argument seemed to fall apart in front of him—he simply wanted what he wanted.
A thought flashed through her mind.
"Is it because you funded me? Am I supposed to repay that debt this way?"
Zong Xubai looked at her eyes, desperate for an answer, her amber pupils trembling as if a gust of wind would scatter them. He paused, then said flatly, "That little bit of money means nothing."
He didn't care about the money. There was no debt to repay.
He Cheng felt drained.
Throwing caution to the wind, she said, "But I'm not interested in you. I don't want to force myself to be with someone I don't like."
Twenty-five characters in that sentence, and half of them were words he disliked. Hearing them irritated him. Zong Xubai's dark eyes gradually turned cold, like a birch forest in the night illuminated by a suddenly rising cold moon, radiating a thin frost.
Then, he smiled, and the frost dispersed, revealing a pale, bleak moonlight.
He parted his lips and spoke in an almost forceful, commanding tone: "This is a lesson you need to learn."
Learning to love him—that was the lesson she needed to learn.
Her watery eyes were like fragile glass beads—seemingly intact, but already covered in cracks, one careless moment away from shattering completely.
His heart softened again. He analyzed with certainty, "How do you know it's forcing yourself if you don't even try?"
"He Cheng, materially I won't shortchange you, and mentally I can match your frequency."
He looked at her with interest, though his pitch-black eyes held no lecherous desire. "Physically, you've seen me several times now. I'm not lacking."
"How could that be forcing yourself?"
It wasn't forcing—not like that.
The key point was that she didn't like him and had no interest in him. He was the type to only hear what he wanted to hear, never letting himself get bogged down by self-doubt.
Before He Cheng could answer, the car arrived at the hotel entrance. Looking out the window, the words "Chungking Mansions" came into view.
Finally, she wouldn't have to share a space with Zong Xubai. She hurriedly moved to get out on Ye Yanzhi's side.
Zong Xubai glanced at her eager figure, so desperate to leave. "He Cheng, running away won't solve anything."
He Cheng pretended not to hear.
If there was a problem she needed to solve, it was undoubtedly getting away from him.
Although Uncle Bing was also visiting for the first time, he had grown up in Hong Kong and had heard plenty of strange tales and gossip. He'd known about this building's reputation since childhood.
The hotel was cheap and hosted many tourists visiting Hong Kong.
The last time he'd heard about Chungking Mansions was from a front-page headline in the newspaper—a tourist visiting Hong Kong had been gang-raped to death by foreigners while showering in a public area.
Every time this place entered his ears or caught his eye, it was always accompanied by bad news.
Uncle Bing hadn't expected the hotel Ye Yanzhi booked to be inside this building.
Young people were so bold when it came to saving money.
He glanced in the rearview mirror. He Cheng seemed completely unaware of Chungking Mansions' terrifying history, too busy getting out of the car to escape Zong Xubai.
Out of goodwill, he warned her, "Why stay here? Maybe switch to another hotel. This building has had a lot of bad things happen. A young woman like you alone at night—it's not very safe."
He Cheng had never heard of any problems with this building. Besides, the outside was extremely lively and the inside was brightly lit—how could it be unsafe? She thought Uncle Bing was trying to scare her, to make her back off.
"It's fine. The room's booked and can't be refunded."
Hong Kong properties were measured by the square foot. When Ye Yanzhi had originally booked the hotel, she'd been shocked by Hong Kong hotel prices—seven or eight hundred for a mere 100 square feet. After searching around, this one was the cheapest, only a hundred and fifty.
Seeing that she insisted on staying, Uncle Bing didn't want to interfere. In the rearview mirror, He Cheng had gotten out of the car and was struggling to hoist Ye Yanzhi up, but a girl's strength was limited, and Ye Yanzhi was completely unconscious from drinking.
Meanwhile, Zong Xubai sat in the car with his eyes closed, massaging his brow, completely ignoring the commotion beside him.
Uncle Bing unbuckled his seatbelt. "Let me help you."
Uncle Bing easily hoisted Ye Yanzhi onto his back and headed toward the building. He Cheng felt embarrassed to trouble him but had no choice, so she could only say thank you over and over.
As she closed the car door, she caught an inadvertent glimpse inside. Neon lights flickered across Zong Xubai's face, his arms crossed over his chest, eyes closed in rest. His expression didn't look relaxed at all.
He seemed like a completely different person from the one who had so effortlessly seduced her moments ago.
She slammed the door shut and hurried to catch up with Uncle Bing.