"Your little sister has been bullied."
He Cheng frowned, finding his request utterly baffling. Did he think saying it out loud himself would make it more sincere?
She didn't understand.
But moving her lips wouldn't cost her anything, so she read it out word by word as instructed: "I just look thin. I'll exercise more every day to build up my strength. And the Chinese medicine is really bitter—please don't put me through that."
The voice that reached his ear was exactly the soft, low, unhurried tone Zong Xubai had imagined—devoid of any seductiveness or flattery, even a bit stiff, yet enough to send a tingling sensation through his nerves.
Paired with that fair, innocent face, it was maddeningly alluring.
He pressed a hand to his waist and took a deep breath.
Zhou Qiyun could read the heat radiating from his back and promptly poured him a glass of ice water, stepping to his side. "Perhaps some ice water, sir, to cool down."
Zong Xubai glanced sideways at the ice water in the glass, his expression deep and indifferent. He took it without a change in demeanor and drank a couple of sips. The icy cold water still couldn't ease the heat inside him. He spoke into the phone, "Fine, no Chinese medicine then."
"Since you want to build up your strength, from now on, every Sunday morning, hike from HKU up to Victoria Peak to find me."
He Cheng's delicate brows furrowed even deeper. She understood even less—why would she need to go find him?
Several unpleasant suspicions flashed through her mind. She knew she shouldn't speculate about her sponsor's goodwill, but sometimes her intuition was too strong to ignore.
She refused with righteous indignation, "I'll just work out at school. If you're worried I'll slack off, I'll report to you every week."
If Mr. Zong insisted she go to Victoria Peak to find him, could he really have some other intentions?
Recalling the series of events since meeting him—especially the meal deliveries and the Chinese medicine—it was already beyond the level of ordinary concern. She couldn't help but let her thoughts run wild.
Zong Xubai narrowed his eyes and pondered for a moment. She really did know her boundaries.
He let out a light chuckle. It was only natural for her to keep her distance and guard herself. "Fine then."
Those two words—"fine then"—eased He Cheng's tense nerves. Perhaps Mr. Zong was just speaking casually, being polite, not genuinely inviting her to the villa every week.
A man of his stature wouldn't have spare time to waste on her fitness routine.
He Cheng truly didn't know how to interact with Mr. Zong. The faint, oppressive pressure he exuded was too strong. Every time she saw him, she had to carefully weigh every word she said to him.
Lu Qi sprained her ankle during a badminton club activity.
It wasn't serious, but with one health issue after another, she felt she'd run into some bad luck. Coincidentally, she'd always wanted to experience Hong Kong's "beating the villains" culture.
So even with a limp, she dragged He Cheng to the Canal Road Flyover on the weekend.
It was the most famous spot for beating villains. The stalls were all manned by mediums and fortune-tellers, with people coming and going, the air thick with incense and the bustle of everyday life.
After listening to the introduction, Lu Qi gritted her teeth and paid a hundred dollars to worship the Tiger God and beat villains.
He Cheng stood to the side and watched.
The entire ritual was presided over by a professional medium. Lu Qi knelt devoutly on both knees and chanted "money come, money come" several times at the statue.
The medium placed the villain paper on a brick and slapped it hard with a slipper while reciting incantations, denouncing the villain's misdeeds.
He Cheng hugged her backpack, inexplicably feeling a phantom ache in her body. She hunched her shoulders, as if the slaps were landing on her.
Coming out from under the Canal Road Flyover, Lu Qi felt refreshed and invigorated. She scolded He Cheng for not beating villains too since she was already there, then hooked her arm through He Cheng's: "But hey, your luck with benefactors is through the roof right now. Hehe, let me soak up some of that good fortune~"
"Too bad there's no scratch-off lottery on Hong Kong streets." She thought of something and her eyes lit up. "How about we go to the racecourse for some fun? I want to place a bet—maybe I'll win a little money!"
Lu Qi had set herself a list of things to do before graduation. Today she'd completed one, and watching horse racing was also on the list.
"Are we going to watch the races and buy pari-mutuels or bet on horses?" He Cheng had heard Ye Yanzhi mention before that if he ever had money, he'd want to experience Hong Kong's horse racing culture too.
"Yeah! Hong Kong has two major racecourses—Sha Tin and Happy Valley. Sha Tin seems more old-money and aristocratic. They say if you want to soak up the atmosphere, Happy Valley is enough, but Happy Valley only opens on Wednesday nights, which is a bit annoying."
"No worries, Sha Tin works too. It's not like we're betting big—throwing in ten or twenty bucks is just the price of a meal. Don't be stingy with a few dollars when you get there."
The two had nothing to do that afternoon, so after discussing it, they headed straight to Sha Tin Racecourse.
The Hong Kong Jockey Club has a long history. It's one of the most beloved entertainment activities for locals and also attracts people from all over the country who travel to Hong Kong specifically to watch the races.
It absorbs obsession, wit, and spare cash, and in turn exports a unique piece of Hong Kong culture.
Some come for the thrill of the races; others come to feel the rise and fall of luck.
He Cheng was among those who came for the spectacle.
But she couldn't resist Lu Qi dragging her into placing a bet.
The most basic way to bet on horses is buying "Win" (first place) or "Place" (top three). Ten dollars can win anywhere from one dollar to ten million, depending on your luck and what you play.
He Cheng picked a horse that caught her eye based on the free Racing Post handed out at the entrance. The horse was called "Green Haze Over Snow," owned by Zhou Keqi, with a very pretty female jockey whose racing silks included a splash of color that matched her name—orange.
Lu Qi glanced at her pick and was taken aback. "Why this one? This horse is making its racing debut today."
The Racing Post included detailed information about each runner—bloodlines, past performance, and jockey-trainer combinations—and Lu Qi had instantly ruled out He Cheng's choice.
"But I think this horse is beautiful, and the jockey is beautiful too."
Lu Qi teased her for being a sucker for looks and suggested she pick a horse with a strong winning record to guarantee a payout. He Cheng thought it over but stuck with "Green Haze Over Snow" for a win bet. Because the horse was number 7, and her birthday was July 17th.
They headed to the free public section, where open-air grandstand seats were first-come, first-served.
Sha Tin Racecourse had a very clear hierarchy when it came to viewing and hospitality. The venue was divided into public areas and exclusive zones for members and guests, and the two differed vastly in environment, service, views, and privacy.
The higher the floor, the higher the status.
Lu Qi looked up at the topmost level. "I heard Liang Jiahao is a racecourse member. Membership requires not only a hefty fee but also a selection process—how come character isn't one of the criteria?"
At the mention of the man who had gotten her campus part-time job taken away, He Cheng's mood dipped.
That was the most ironic part of the privilege system—it meticulously screened for wealth, family background, connections, and taste, yet left character entirely outside the threshold.
"Maybe because loyalty to a shared interest matters more than being accountable to morality."
Lu Qi could tell He Cheng was feeling down, so she planted her hands on her hips and fumed indignantly: "Membership's a joke! It's only one tier above our free section! He can't even get into the private boxes or the owner's lounge!"
He Cheng laughed at her antics, and the two happily snapped a few more photos together.
Thirteen horses burst off the line, hooves pounding like thunder. The jockeys became warriors dancing with beasts, bodies pressed low against the horses' necks. Within seconds, the pack thundered past, and number 7 crossed the line first.
Ten Hong Kong dollars had turned into a hundred, and in that moment He Cheng understood why people got hooked on gambling—the adrenaline rush was real.
Lu Qi, sitting beside her, was even more excited once she realized what had happened. She hugged He Cheng tightly, soaking up her luck, and praised her for having a good eye.
He Cheng didn't get swept up in more betting. She went straight to the window to cash out. Turning ten dollars into a hundred was already a pleasant surprise—she didn't dare hope for more and knew when to quit.
After collecting her hundred dollars from the window, she ran into He Shuxia on the way, dressed to the nines.
He Shuxia had just stepped out of some VIP lounge and chatted with them warmly. When she learned He Cheng had won a hundred, she feigned surprise and praise while inwardly mocking her for being so thrilled over a hundred bucks.
A hundred wasn't even enough for a shallow sip of red wine at the bottom of a glass in the VIP room.
Liang Jiahao was in that VIP room right now. If the He Cheng he pined for went looking for him, what would his reaction be? What would he do?
If he was happy, she might even score enough for a Hermès bag.
He Shuxia smiled, thinking of her Hermès, and invited them to come hang out in the VIP area.
Lu Qi was a little tempted. Getting to tour the member section without spending a cent—this might be the only chance in her life to set foot in the VIP zone.
She nudged He Cheng. "Cheng Cheng, let's go?"
Seeing Lu Qi's interest, He Shuxia grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the VIP entrance. "Come on, come on—it's hot and crowded out in the open grandstand."
When the VIP room door swung open, Lu Qi let out a small gasp. The space opened up before them—floor-to-ceiling panoramic windows with unobstructed views, an outdoor private terrace, and multiple high-definition TVs streaming live races, odds fluctuations, and pre-race analysis.
The member section was already dozens of times more upscale than the free area—she could only imagine how extravagant the private boxes and owner's lounge must be.
Men and women lounged on the sofas, laughter and chatter mingling with the heavy stench of alcohol. The air was thick with a lazy, unrestrained decadence.
Liang Jiahao, with an arm around a woman on each side, spotted He Cheng the moment the door opened. His eyes contracted and dilated in quick succession, he pressed his tongue against his cheek, and broke into a delighted grin. Taking a drag of his cigarette, he exhaled a wisp of smoke and said in Cantonese-accented Mandarin, "Cheng Cheng, I couldn't catch you at HKU, but who knew I'd run into you here—and you walked right in on your own. You have no idea how much I've missed you."
The sound of his voice made He Cheng's spine snap straight. She followed it to the sofa.
A sick feeling washed over her, like biting into a rancid peanut, and she instinctively clenched her fists.
"Don't leave." He Shuxia grabbed He Cheng's arm to stop her and pulled her toward the sofa. "We all know each other—come join us."
"He Shuxia, what's wrong with you?" Lu Qi's surprise turned to anger, her brow furrowing as she pointed accusingly. "Are you doing this on purpose?"
Being called out in public made He Shuxia lose face, but she played the good Samaritan. "I'm bringing you to the member section to broaden your horizons! Without me, you couldn't get in here even if you spent 180,000!"
"I appreciate the thought, but no thanks." He Cheng shook her off without mercy, pulling Lu Qi toward the door, only to be blocked by a few of Liang Jiahao's cronies.
The door was shut as well.
Liang Jiahao smirked. "Did you think this was a place you could just waltz in and out of?"
He tilted his chin toward the seven or eight bottles of white and red liquor on the table. "If you want to leave, fine—drink all of these, and I'll let you go."
He Shuxia once again played the peacemaker, pulling them over to sit on the sofa. The girls who had been hovering around Liang Jiahao scattered like startled birds.
"Jiahao's great at picking horses. Aren't you two trying to bet and win some money? Let him teach you—forget winning a hundred, winning ten thousand would be no problem."
Liang Jiahao let out an ambiguous snort. "Orange, you're adorable, you know that? Wanting to get rich overnight—why come here for that? How much can you win in this place? It's like throwing money into the sea; only charities would thank you."
He leaned forward, stubbing out his cigarette in the ashtray, then stretched out a long arm and grabbed He Cheng's shoulder. She shook him off, but he grabbed on again, gripping tighter.
"You and your girlfriends need money, come to me. Forget that library part-time job. If you're with me, would I ever let you suffer? Your friend isn't as pretty as you, but she's got a decent figure too—I could take both of you sisters on together."
He Shuxia had always thought He Cheng possessed an unyielding tenacity and boldness. She watched as He Cheng, unable to break free from Liang Jiahao's grip, expressionlessly picked up the glass of wine from the table and splashed it across his face.
Liang Jiahao froze. Red wine dripped down his face, his eyes filled with disbelief, then blazing with fury that threatened to burn He Cheng to ashes.
Seizing the moment, He Cheng grabbed Lu Qi and bolted for the door. Liang Jiahao ordered his men to stop them, but like a hawk chasing chicks, the two girls spotted a door and dove through it, slamming it shut and locking it behind them in a flash.
A moment later, the door they were pressing their backs against shuddered violently.
"Fuck! I'll shove it up your ass—go eat shit… open the goddamn door!" Liang Jiahao spewed a string of foul Cantonese curses.
They had hidden in a restroom.
The two girls clasped hands tightly, silently encouraging each other. Lu Qi held back her tears—if it weren't for her vanity, none of this would have happened.
He Cheng was trembling all over. She forced herself to stay calm, pulled out her phone, and dialed 199, reporting their situation truthfully. Luckily, she'd been sharp-eyed on the way in and memorized the building number.
The voice outside switched to Mandarin, roaring, "Not coming out, huh? I'll have someone pry this door open! I gave you face, didn't I? I haven't even settled the score for you hitting me last time, and you dare splash wine on me? Today I'm going to fuck you right here, in front of everyone—I'll destroy you."
The commotion of Liang Jiahao trying to break down the door reached Lin Zhongxi, who was in the horse owner's exclusive section on the top floor. He had always looked down on this idle, good-for-nothing "cousin" who shared no blood with him.
He was the illegitimate son his aunt's husband had fathered with a mistress before marriage—utterly lacking in self-awareness, always throwing his weight around and carousing under Lin Zhongxi's name.
Learning that he was breaking down a door to sleep with a woman made Lin Zhongxi want to kick him from across the building.
He usually avoided him entirely, keeping his distance so the man couldn't taint him in the slightest. But today, the place he chose to run wild was the Jockey Club—if word got out, those socialites and dignitaries would tear his aunt apart.
The Lin family wouldn't escape unscathed either.
There was one other person in the private room.
Zhou Keqi, sitting on the sofa in a foul mood, tossed his phone onto the table. Never one to miss a chance to fan the flames, he said, "That cousin of yours is absolutely lawless. Sawing down a door just to sleep with a woman—he'll do anything."
"Save the snide remarks. Look at you, half-dead like that—I take it Bei Qing's ignoring you again."
Zhou Keqi shot him a sideways glare and rubbed his brow.
Struck a nerve.
When Lin Zhongxi reached the floor below, staff members were already using an electric saw to cut through the restroom door, roaring as it sliced through. The door was carved into a square opening, and through the hollowed frame, he could see two terrified faces huddled together, clinging to each other against the corner wall.
The door was sawed open. Liang Jiahao stormed in, grabbed one of them, and dragged her stumbling out, throwing her onto the sofa. He moved to tear off her clothes without a second thought—then let out a sharp yelp, clutching his jaw in disbelief, cursing again.
In He Cheng's hand was a shard of the ceramic vase she'd smashed in the restroom. The sharp edge was streaked with blood. Her defiant face held a look of desperate resolve—burning the boats, ready to fight to the death—and her clear, bright eyes stared straight ahead.
Lin Zhongxi recognized that face. His heart jolted. Without a word, he charged at the relentless Liang Jiahao and delivered a vicious kick.
Liang Jiahao hit the ground instantly.
He was about to explode in rage, but when he saw who it was, his arrogance deflated in an instant.
The entire Liang family owed their standing to the Lin family's support. That connection was like an invisible binding spell—no matter how furious he was, he had to swallow it down.
Liang Jiahao's friends in the room didn't dare step forward either. They usually followed him around, flattering and bullying others, but when real trouble hit, none dared to be the first to stick their neck out—especially when the man was his own cousin.
Liang Jiahao sobered up in an instant, forcing a smile and asking in Cantonese, "What brings you here?"
"If I hadn't come, were you planning to put on an R-rated show right here?" Lin Zhongxi wasn't satisfied with just one kick, so he angrily added another: "You're fucking thinking with your dick. You don't even check who she is before you dare touch her?"
Liang Jiahao was hurt by the kick and clutched his arm, but didn't dare to retaliate. He didn't understand.
He had investigated He Cheng long ago—she came from a poor mountain area, only able to attend university through financial aid, with no parents to speak of. Easy to control, easy to bully. Even if she died here tonight, it wouldn't make a splash.
Liang Jiahao glanced at He Cheng, who was curled up on the sofa, her body trembling and her eyes vacant. Unexpectedly, Lin Zhongxi kicked him again. "Still fucking looking? I think you don't want those eyes of yours anymore."
Although his cousin had never thought much of him, he had never been this furious before, out of consideration for his father's wife. His heart suddenly tightened. Thinking she must be his cousin's woman, he immediately changed his tune: "I'm not looking, I'm not looking. Don't be angry…"
To prevent Lin Zhongxi from directing his anger at him, he quickly explained, "She was the one who splashed wine in my face first, and then tried to stab me with a piece of the vase. You saw it too—she wanted me dead."
He touched his chin, which had a bloody scratch, and held out his blood-stained palm for Lin Zhongxi to see. The wound wasn't deep, but blood was seeping out steadily.
Lin Zhongxi shot him a glance. "You deserve everything you got. Get the hell out of my sight."
Liang Jiahao stumbled out, and once through the door, kicked the air in frustration.
Lin Zhongxi turned back to look at He Cheng. The girl appeared remarkably calm—not a single tear on her face. But those clear eyes were too hollow and numb, as if she were trapped in a painful memory. Frowning, she clutched the piece of vase shard without moving.
Any other girl would have been scared to tears by now.
Beside her, Lu Qi was a mess of tears and snot, hugging her tightly.
Her body was ice-cold, her limbs as if frozen. When she snapped back to reality, she forced a faint smile at Lu Qi.
She had experienced things even filthier and more shameless. The long-sealed memories had been pried open like a box, and she felt dazed, flashes of all kinds of curses, contempt, and lecherous gazes flooding her mind.
"Don't be afraid." Lin Zhongxi bent down to comfort her. "Do you remember me? We met at the entrance of the main building."
Her thoughts were pulled back. He Cheng looked at Lin Zhongxi and nodded.
She remembered. Vice Dean Lin—he had been standing with Mr. Zong that day.
"Don't worry. I will make sure you get justice for what happened today."
Lu Qi also knew he was the Vice Dean of the College of Science. Thank goodness they had run into the dean. She was still shaking from the scare and absolutely hated He Shuxia. She scanned the room and met He Shuxia's panicked, guilty eyes.
He Shuxia stepped forward trembling to apologize. She hadn't expected things to escalate like this—Liang Jiahao's madness had frightened her too.
Her heart was still pounding.
Lu Qi refused to accept the apology, shooting her a vicious glare.
Using the pretext of needing to understand what had happened, Lin Zhongxi brought them back to the VIP owners' area on the top floor. Inside the luxurious private box, it was as silent as a tomb. Zhou Keqi sat with a cold face, staring at the phone on the coffee table.
When they came in, he didn't bother to greet them. He picked up his phone with a long arm and walked toward the terrace, leaving the sofa for them.
Lin Zhongxi handed a cup of hot water to the dazed He Cheng. Only when he saw her holding the cup and drinking stiffly and slowly did he walk to the terrace to stand shoulder to shoulder with Zhou Keqi.
He made a phone call, gazing down at the galloping horses below, and rubbed his brow in frustration.
When he had run into He Cheng at the main building last time, he had seen clearly how attentive Zong Xubai was to her. Afterwards, he had teased him about finally succumbing to mortal desires.
At the time, Zong Xubai had just smiled and changed the subject.
Though he hadn't said it outright, Lin Zhongxi had understood Zong Xubai's feelings from that smile.
What a rare thing. In matters of the heart, he had always been indifferent. Even amidst the revelry of wine and flesh, surrounded by perfume and elegant figures, there was always a layer of gentle aloofness between him and the world. Female companions were merely superfluous decoration to him.
To outsiders, he possessed the refined restraint cultivated by generations of aristocratic upbringing. But in truth, it was bone-deep weariness and detachment—a languid disinterest, like watching a fire from across the river.
And yet, this old iron tree had actually bloomed.
So when he saw Liang Jiahao dragging that familiar-looking girl out of the restroom, he was first confused, then shocked, and finally furious. A few kicks weren't nearly enough to vent his anger.
If Liang Jiahao wanted to be decadent and indulge in wine and women out in the world, that was one thing. But to set his sights on someone connected to Zong Xubai?
Those kicks he'd delivered were already lenient. If Zong Xubai handled it personally, Liang Jiahao would lose a layer of skin.
He remembered Zong Xubai's flight from America was today—he'd probably just landed and was on his way home by now.
"Have you landed? Do you want to come by the racetrack?" He glanced back at He Cheng, whose gaze was unfocused, and let out a soft sigh. "Your girl—she's been bullied."