Gu Qingxu was fully armed with a mask, a baseball cap, and sunglasses.
There were too many people, so Shen Moyan positioned himself slightly behind her in a protective stance, shielding her from the crowd pressing in from behind.
“Still playing the devoted boyfriend, huh—what a piece of work.” Lu Yao rolled her eyes and looked at Qiao Zhao. “Want to wait for the next one?”
Qiao Zhao’s hand slowly clenched, but her expression remained calm as still water. “Why should we wait? I’m not the one who cheated, and I’m not the one playing the mistress.”
“True enough.” Lu Yao raised an eyebrow, pulled Qiao Zhao along, and strode inside, even nudging Gu Qingxu, who was standing in the middle, with her foot. “Move aside. Where’s your manners?”
Shen Moyan had originally wanted to greet Qiao Zhao, but upon hearing her words, the greeting died in his throat.
The two of them hadn’t spoken loudly, but it was enough for everyone in the elevator to hear clearly.
All the gossiping glances swept back and forth between Shen Moyan and Gu Qingxu, and the other man and woman standing together, unsure who was being talked about.
Among the strangers, the woman was a formidable one—she fired back at the whole elevator: “What are you looking at? Never seen a couple out for a night out?”
This time, all the gazes found their focus, landing squarely on the backs of Shen Moyan’s and Gu Qingxu’s heads.
Unfortunately, Gu Qingxu was afraid of being recognized, so she didn’t dare make a sound. She could only swallow her frustration in silence.
“Look at how that woman’s dressed—clearly up to no good.”
“Exactly. Wearing sunglasses at night—she must have a guilty conscience.”
Shen Moyan’s face was cold as ice.
When they reached the eighth floor, Qiao Zhao and Lu Yao walked out, ignoring the chatter filling the elevator.
“Qiao Zhao.” Shen Moyan hurried over and blocked her path.
Only then did Gu Qingxu dare to speak, her voice soft and aggrieved: “Moyan, you saw it, didn’t you? She’s really terrifying.”
It was as if she were confirming what had happened last night in the hospital room—being shoved down and doused with water.
Shen Moyan’s expression darkened. “Qiao Zhao, what you said just now was out of line.”
And here he’d defended her so fiercely last night.
Qiao Zhao looked at Lu Yao. “Did we say anything about him?”
“Nope.” Lu Yao spread her hands.
Qiao Zhao spread her hands too. “See, Professor Shen? We didn’t name anyone. Why do you have to take it so personally?”
“Oh, isn’t this Qingxu?” Lu Yao stared at Gu Qingxu in feigned surprise, as if just recognizing her. “A singer by day, a mistress by night—wanting it all, aren’t you?”
Qiao Zhao and Lu Yao had known each other since the day they registered at university, thick as thieves.
Gu Qingxu, on the other hand, had only joined their dorm in sophomore year.
Lu Yao had never liked Gu Qingxu, finding her affected and fake. It was Qiao Zhao who held their relationship together.
Qiao Zhao seemed to recall something and looked at Gu Qingxu with surprise. “Aren’t you sick? Still out and about causing trouble.”
“Qiao Zhao.” Shen Moyan’s face was frighteningly cold. “Is there any need to speak so harshly? It’s Chen Fang’s birthday, and Xuxu’s been in a bad mood. I brought her out to clear her head.”
“Forget it.” Gu Qingxu wrapped her arms around Shen Moyan’s, her voice gentle and soft. “Moyan, this is really your fault. Think about it—how many days have you not been home? Isn’t it only natural for Zhao Zhao to have a little attitude?”
Shen Moyan thought about it and realized she had a point. His gaze softened. “Zhao Zhao, you know Chen Fang too. Why don’t you come sit with us for a bit?”
Qiao Zhao shook her head. “Your friends don’t exactly welcome me.”
“Who said that? I’ve been meaning to bring you out for some fun. I figured you wouldn’t like this kind of occasion, so I turned it down for you. Since we’ve run into each other, let’s go join in the excitement.”
Expecting her to say as always, “I won’t go, have fun yourself,” this time Qiao Zhao said instead, “Sure, I’m curious how you’d introduce me to her—wife and concubine? Or wife and mistress?”
Shen Moyan’s heart tightened. The Qiao Zhao of the past was gentle and obedient, but today every word she said choked him.
“Professor Shen, do you still want me to go now?” Qiao Zhao stared into his eyes.
Shen Moyan was silent for a moment. “Those people you’re not familiar with, I’m worried you’d feel uncomfortable, so don’t—”
“It’s fine, everyone starts as strangers before becoming familiar.” The smile on Qiao Zhao’s face suddenly vanished. “Let me ask again, do you still want me to go?”
Shen Moyan closed his eyes. “No.”
Qiao Zhao gave a faint smile. “Wouldn’t it have been easier to say that earlier?”
“Moyan, let’s go.” Gu Qingxu’s eyes curved into a smile beneath her sunglasses.
Finally letting Shen Moyan see Qiao Zhao’s true colors.
“Forget it, calm yourself down.” Shen Moyan left Qiao Zhao with those words and turned to walk away.
The two walked off into the distance. Lu Yao slowly unfolded Qiao Zhao’s hand—the palm was streaked with blood.
On the surface she was calm, but those three years of feelings were real.
The heart she had once offered so sincerely—now seeing Shen Moyan’s hypocritical demeanor, she only wanted to tear off his mask all the more.
Qiao Zhao wiped away a tear sliding down her face. “Let’s go. Don’t let a scumbag and a cheap woman ruin our mood. Not worth it.”
“Right, it’s settled—your big sister will treat you to a life of enjoyment.”
Qiao Zhao snorted. “Settled that I’m paying today. Dare to fight me for it, and I won’t let it go.”
Tan Zheng walked out of the elevator and turned down another direction. Hearing voices, he looked back.
He only caught a glimpse of a figure disappearing into a private room.
“President Tan?” The middle-aged boss beside him called out cautiously. He withdrew his gaze and walked forward with an unchanged expression.
Entering the private room, Lu Yao acted like she was on her own turf, calling in a row of male models—each with broad shoulders, narrow waists, and long legs, shirt collars open, revealing sturdy chest muscles.
Qiao Zhao sat on the sofa like a well-behaved girl, not knowing where to look, at a loss.
“You’re just too inexperienced. Look around more and you’ll find that men like Shen Moyan really aren’t that impressive.” Afraid she’d be shy, Lu Yao stood up. “I’m going to the restroom.”
“Yaoyao—”
“Take your time picking.”
“Sister, what type do you like?” A male model leaned in to curry favor.
Qiao Zhao looked at the vivid faces before her, yet another face surfaced in her mind.
The stormy evening she met Tan Zheng, he was younger than these men before her.
But that face—cold, sharp, with a hint of roguishness.
That day he was trapped under the eaves sheltering from the rain, rainwater streaming down through the gaps in the tiles, soaked through, yet he stood straight as a board, like a tree drenched by the downpour.
Not the deliberate “straightness” of these men puffing out their chests and striking poses—it was something bone-deep, an innate nobility and refinement.
“Sister, have a drink.”
The voice pulled her thoughts back, and Qiao Zhao jolted.
Why did she think of him? Comparing the King of Hell who commanded the business world to these male models—she must be crazy.
She avoided the drink offered to her. “Alright, all of you, out.”
Seeing there was no hope of staying, the male model turned to leave.
Lu Yao pushed the door open just then. “Hey? What’s wrong?”
“A face person, didn’t take a liking to him.” Qiao Zhao sank into the sofa, her tone languid.
Only now did she understand the weight of that saying—you shouldn’t meet someone too stunning in your youth, or the rest of your life will be spent in restless turmoil.
Back then, when she’d married Shen Moyan in a flash, it was probably because of his cool, striking looks.
That said, these three years hadn’t been a total loss for her.
“Perfect timing—your sister here just grabbed you a top-tier catch.” Lu Yao reached behind her and dragged in a tall man.
Qiao Zhao looked up, saw the man’s face, and shot upright in her seat. “Yan… Yan-ge?”
“You know him?” Lu Yao sat down beside her. “Even better—killing an acquaintance is the most satisfying. I spotted him in the hallway and thought he’d be your type.”
Qiao Zhao stared at her beaming expression and genuinely wanted to die on the spot.
Lu Yao still hadn’t realized what was happening. She smugly picked one of the male models for herself and sent the rest away.
Peng Yan’s phone rang, and he answered it.
Qiao Zhao clasped her hands in a pleading gesture toward him, then mouthed silently: “Please, don’t mention me.”
Peng Yan gave her a knowing, half-smiling look, then said into the phone: “President Tan, I’m in 805.”
Qiao Zhao closed her eyes, waiting for the world to end…