Before long, Tan Zheng pushed the door open and walked in. Seeing Peng Yan standing next to a male model, he gave a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “What, thinking of changing careers?”
Peng Yan pointed at Lu Yao. “This young lady here thought I’d switched professions.”
Peng Yan was a stray child Tan Zheng had rescued from the roadside when he was ten. He’d been by Tan Zheng’s side since childhood, yet he’d never felt so wronged.
Just now, he’d been on the phone in the hallway when Lu Yao had dragged him over without explanation.
He knew Lu Yao, and thinking something had happened to Qiao Zhao, he’d followed along—only to be mistaken for a model.
Tan Zheng looked at Qiao Zhao, his gaze cold as ice. “For someone like Shen Moyan, you’d stoop to this level. Qiao Zhao, you never cease to amaze me.”
“Mr. Tan certainly has double standards.” Qiao Zhao shot to her feet, meeting his gaze across the coffee table. “A man can walk away freely and find someone new, but a woman doing the same is ‘stooping’? Who made that rule?”
The air felt sucked dry as their eyes clashed.
His were hard as iron; hers burned with a smoldering fire.
Half a minute later, Tan Zheng looked away and turned to leave the private room.
Peng Yan glanced at Qiao Zhao, let out a sigh, and followed him out.
Inside the room, the garish, shifting lights seemed determined to expose every demon lurking in one’s heart.
Lu Yao dismissed the male model and asked cautiously, “Who was that just now?”
Qiao Zhao exhaled deeply. “Tan Zheng.”
The surname Tan wasn’t common, and Lu Yao immediately thought of that man.
Her eyes went wide. She’d mistaken the Living Yama’s assistant for a male model?
She touched her own neck, taking a long moment before she could find her voice. “Then that comment you made—were you talking about Shen Moyan, or that ancestor of a man?”
Qiao Zhao didn’t answer.
He was the one who’d broken his promise first. What right did he have to judge her?
Lu Yao pressed, “Then you and him…”
Qiao Zhao collapsed onto the sofa, drained. “Yao Yao, I’ll tell you another day.”
Every time she ran into Tan Zheng, it felt like a hand squeezed her heart—releasing it just as the pain became unbearable, then squeezing again.
That feeling was like dying countless times over, yet never being allowed to die cleanly.
“So… do we still keep going?”
Lu Yao’s neck still felt cold.
If Tan Zheng was the Living Yama, then his underling Peng Yan was the Soul-Hooking Envoy.
The King of Hell was easy to deal with; it was the little demons that were troublesome.
“Of course.” Qiao Zhao knocked back a stiff drink. “Why not? Not only will we keep going, we’ll have a great time. Order whatever you want tonight—drinks or male models, I’ve got you covered.”
Lu Yao could see she was in a bad mood and resolved to stick with her through thick and thin. “Alright, let’s drink while we can.”
The drinks came easily enough, but when they called for male models again, no one showed up.
After a while, the manager came over in person and gave them a slight nod. “I’m sorry, ladies, but Mr. Tan has instructed that male models are prohibited in your room.”
Qiao Zhao shot to her feet. “I’ll go find him.”
“Mr. Tan has already left,” the manager said. “He also said that from now on, whenever you come, this rule applies.”
Qiao Zhao kicked the coffee table.
Tan Zheng.
I used half my life to get out of that hole—why do you have to show up again?
What is this supposed to mean now?
Why can’t you just stay as quiet as the dead, like you did for the past three years?
.
In another private room.
Chen Fang finished blowing out the candles and looked at Shen Moyan. “Brother Yan, didn’t we agree you’d bring your lady along? What, am I not important enough?”
His tone was dripping with sarcasm, but Shen Moyan only gave a faint smile. “She doesn’t enjoy these kinds of occasions.”
Another friend chimed in, “Come on, A-Fang, she’s from a modest family after all. Isn’t it normal that she’s not used to gatherings like ours?”
Gu Qingxu gently tugged at Chen Fang’s sleeve. “That’s enough. Zhao Zhao is my friend, at least. Don’t talk about her like that.”
“Now here’s our dear Xu Xu, graceful and composed—truly a lady from a distinguished family.” Chen Fang laughed, then shifted the topic. “Yan-ge, when are you getting a divorce so you can marry Xu Xu?”
Shen Moyan’s brows knitted tightly.
Divorce?
That was the word he’d heard most often these past few days.
Gu Qingxu, his friends, even his father—all of them had been probing him, asking if he’d ever thought about divorce.
He never had.
And he never would, no matter when.
Qiao Zhao was so quiet, so easy to manage. Why would he divorce her?
Sure, the girl had grown a bit defiant lately, but she’d settle down after some time to cool off.
.
Qiao Zhao had drunk too much.
Lu Yao was helping her out of Tinglan Pavilion when a pair of slender hands reached out.
Lu Yao looked up and met a face so cold it was almost sharp—features carved as if by a blade, handsome enough that one dared not look too long.
“Leave her to me,” Tan Zheng said.
Lu Yao’s spine stiffened. She knew this wasn’t a request—it was a command.
But she gritted her teeth anyway. “No, not unless Zhao Zhao agrees.”
Tan Zheng said nothing. He took Qiao Zhao’s chin between his fingers, forcing her head up. “Come with me.”
Qiao Zhao’s hazy eyes slowly gathered a trace of clarity. Seeing who stood before her, she burst into tears. “He looks so much like Tan Zheng! Yao Yao, run!”
She dragged Lu Yao along, stumbling away as if a wolf were at their heels.
Lu Yao had called a designated driver in advance.
The car drove toward their neighborhood. The driver glanced at the rearview mirror. “That Bentley behind us has been following the whole way.”
Lu Yao looked back and knew exactly who it was.
She recalled how Tan Zheng had gripped Qiao Zhao’s chin just now.
Domineering, yet carrying an indescribable tenderness.
She looked down at the Qiao Zhao in her arms, dead drunk and unconscious, and a scene from the first day of university registration suddenly surfaced in her mind.
She’d seen it at a glance back then—Qiao Zhao came from an ordinary family.
Everyone else had parents accompanying them at registration. But her? She didn’t even have anyone to see her off.
She had a cold, independent personality, yet she was clumsy even at making her bed—clearly someone who’d rarely done such things.
She was a person full of such contradictions.
Like a wild vine that should have been charging recklessly across the wilderness, yet someone had chosen to cradle it in their palm, carefully smoothing its branches into docility.
But in all four years of university, the one who would have smoothed her branches never appeared.
Could it be…
Lu Yao glanced again at the luxury car steadily trailing them in the rearview mirror, let out a soft sigh, and said to the driver, “Never mind him.”
.
Tan Zheng watched Lu Yao help Qiao Zhao upstairs, then instructed Peng Yan to drive.
As the car left the neighborhood, Peng Yan glanced at the back seat through the rearview mirror. “President Tan, Professor Shen hurt her that badly, and she can still forgive him. But with you, she holds such a grudge. Why?”
Tan Zheng leaned back in his seat, his gaze turning cold. “Go host Heart-to-Heart Radio. You’re wasted here with me.”
Peng Yan met that grim face, wanted to say something more, but ultimately shut his mouth.
Tan Zheng closed his eyes. His mind was filled with the scene from the club entrance.
Even drunk, she hated him that much.
.
At midnight, outside Tinglan Pavilion, Shen Moyan and Gu Qingxu parted ways with their friends.
He glanced at his wristwatch and said to Gu Qingxu, “The hospital’s visiting hours are over. Stay at my place for the night.”
Gu Qingxu lowered her eyes. “Will Zhao Zhao be upset?”
Shen Moyan replied, “She’s not that petty.”
They passed a 24-hour shopping mall, and Shen Moyan got out of the car. Twenty minutes later, he returned carrying an exquisite gift box.
Gu Qingxu opened it, and her eyes lit up. “Is this the Starry Series from Fanya? Why is it a clip-on earring style? Still, thank you so much…”
“It’s not for you.” Shen Moyan took the box back and placed it in the back seat. “I promised Qiao Zhao I’d bring her a gift. Aren’t you the brand ambassador for this label? You shouldn’t be short on jewelry.”
The smile on Gu Qingxu’s face froze instantly. “Moyan, you never used to say that. You said no amount of jewelry I owned would ever be too much.”
Shen Moyan paused for a moment. “This is something I promised her. If you want one, I’ll buy it for you another day.”
Gu Qingxu clenched her hands, her chest heaving slightly, and said nothing more.
Shen Moyan had Aunt Lin prepare the guest room in advance. When they arrived at Qingwan Villa, the car stopped at the entrance, and only Aunt Lin stood on the steps.
He got out of the car, his gaze unconsciously sweeping toward the living room. “Where’s Qiao Zhao?”