Song Man’s heart leaped to her throat, and the next instant, a chill ran down her spine like a leech crawling across her back.
The scent was wrong.
She turned around.
Her eyes and lips were covered in an instant, and she was dragged to one side.
It all happened so fast that by the time Song Man reacted, she had already been pulled several steps away.
She frantically reached out to both sides, grabbing onto something like a doorframe.
This—she was being dragged into a room?!
Song Man’s alarm bells rang loudly, and she struggled violently.
She knew resistance was futile, but she tried everything she could grab, throw, or make noise with.
And so, in that moment, a cacophony of clattering sounds exploded—earth-shattering and deafening.
The person restraining her grew frightened, their voice trembling as they spoke, “This, this…”
“Just drag her in first! Once the door is closed, no matter who knocks, we won’t open it.”
The moment those words landed, several sets of footsteps sounded.
Song Man, blindfolded, couldn’t tell how many people there were. She only heard one of them grit out the word “damn,” and then felt herself shoved violently, slamming into a wall.
Her vision returned, and through the searing pain, she saw Ruan Wenhua and the others rushing over.
“Man’er!”
Hua Jiale ran at the front, and the next moment, his gaze darkened as he pulled off his jacket and draped it over Song Man.
Only then did Song Man notice that her skirt hem had ridden up during the chaos, leaving her thighs completely exposed.
“Forgive the intrusion.”
Before Song Man could react, Hua Jiale bent down and scooped her up in his arms.
The weather was hot, so Hua Jiale had only been wearing a single layer, and he’d given even that to Song Man.
Song Man inevitably collided with his chest—muscles firm and taut, both hard and springy.
Her breath caught, and her ears flushed crimson in an instant.
Hua Jiale carried her into the private room from before and set her down gently on the sofa, as if she were fragile porcelain.
“Take a moment to compose yourself.”
With that, Hua Jiale turned his back, walked out, and closed the door.
He appeared perfectly calm, but his mind was as turbulent as a rising tide, uncontrollably replaying what he’d just seen.
Pale, delicate legs, as finely crafted as a doll in a shop window.
And the skin he’d unavoidably touched while carrying her, her breath so close, the translucent red of her earlobe.
A sudden urge to destroy surged through him, crashing recklessly. Hua Jiale pressed his lips tightly together, pulled out a cigarette for a smoke, but just as Ruan Wenhua approached, he forced it back into his pocket.
“Auntie.” Hua Jiale greeted.
Ruan Wenhua nodded without asking what had happened, waiting quietly for a moment.
When the door opened and Song Man poked her head out, she murmured, “Mother.”
Ruan Wenhua immediately went inside.
These were all seasoned players steeped in the circles for years.
With such a commotion just now, and the corridor in more chaos than a wet market, something had definitely gone wrong.
Noble families prized their reputations above all. Even if something had happened, it couldn’t be publicized.
Mrs. Zhang was perceptive enough to excuse herself to the restroom, avoiding the matter entirely.
Since the Hua and Song families had marriage intentions, and Hua Jiale had been present as well, Mrs. Hua naturally couldn’t avoid it. She could only remain silent and follow inside.
Song Junyan and Shen Zhiyin walked in last.
Just as he was about to step through, Song Junyan suddenly paused and turned to look at Hua Jiale, who was still standing dazed by the door.
Hua Jiale’s gaze shifted over.
Their eyes met.
Undercurrents surged between them.
Song Junyan suddenly smiled. “Second Young Master Hua has a fine physique. You must train quite often?”
That smile carried a hint of chill, along with other undertones Hua Jiale couldn’t quite decipher. This wasn’t the moment to dwell on it, so he could only respond politely, “You flatter me, Uncle.”
Song Junyan withdrew his gaze and walked inside with a grim expression.
Song Man and Ruan Wenhua were sitting in a corner, talking.
Song Junyan’s gaze swept over Song Man’s face: eyes slightly red, expression very calm.
His jaw loosened slightly as he walked over slowly.
Behind him, a heavy thud—Hua Jiale had closed the door.
Song Man stood up at that moment and held the jacket out toward Hua Jiale. “Your clothes…”
Hua Jiale’s gaze inadvertently swept across her chest before quickly looking away. “Keep it on.”
Song Man pressed her lips together. “Thank you.”
Her qipao was made of silk, and after what had just happened, the collar had been torn, barely containing her full figure.
With that thought, Song Man hugged Hua Jiale’s jacket a little tighter.
The sight made Hua Jiale lose focus for a moment.
Their exchange lasted only seconds, but Song Junyan had observed it all. He suddenly spoke: “Song Man, what happened?”
Song Man couldn’t help but look up at him, and her nose suddenly stung.
From just now until this moment, he’d been so composed.
Even with over a decade of uncle-niece affection, he shouldn’t have been this calm.
It was clear he truly had no feelings for her—able to rein himself in so easily within just a few days.
Song Man turned to Ruan Wenhua and chose her words carefully. “Mother, it seems some unclean person has gotten into Peach Blossom Spring.”
Ruan Wenhua’s expression shifted.
Shen Zhiyin said bluntly, “Unclean person? Did they do something to you?”
At that, Mrs. Hua’s expression turned sour.
It was true that the Hua family wanted to hitch their wagon to the Song family.
But the Hua family was no slouch either—Mrs. Hua’s maiden family were the top voices in heavy industry.
There was no need to marry an unclean woman into the family just to fawn over the Songs.
It seemed she’d need to find a time to politely decline the Song family.
Yet that thought was fleeting, cut short by Hua Jiale’s soft laugh.
“Miss Shen, are you taking me for dead?”
Shen Zhiyin paused, then said sheepishly, “I was just asking.”
Ruan Wenhua glanced at Shen Zhiyin, then turned to Hua Jiale, his brow already relaxing. “Jiale, could you go find the manager of Peach Blossom Spring?”
The clientele at Peach Blossom Spring were all people of power and influence.
These people valued their privacy, so no cameras were installed.
In a situation like this, the only option would be to seal off the entrances and exits.
But that would blow the matter out of proportion.
It wouldn’t do for either the Song family or Song Man.
Finding the manager and quietly digging up the full backgrounds of everyone present today was the best approach.
Hua Jiale understood.
So by the time Ruan Wenhua asked, the manager had already brought over all the records when he arrived.
Ruan Wenhua handed the files to Song Man. “Take a look?”
Song Man glanced at those present, hesitated, then shook his head. “My eyes were covered at the time—I didn’t see anything.”
That made things difficult!
They could only work from identities, to see if anyone seemed suspicious.
Ruan Wenhua flipped through the files several times, his brow furrowing deeper and deeper.
“What the hell! Are you sure you didn’t miss anyone?”
Ruan Wenhua hurled the files down in frustration.
The files were a thick volume bound in a hard cover, and when it hit the floor, its sharp corner landed squarely on the manager’s foot.
Yet the manager’s expression didn’t change in the slightest. He only explained with deference and fear: “Absolutely not—we record every distinguished guest according to protocol. Besides, today’s guests are all regulars… except…”
The manager hesitated, as if holding something back.
Song Junyan said, “Speak plainly.”
Only then did the manager continue: “Except… the few people brought in by Miss Shen…”
A roaring gale swept through her mind, a thought surging to her throat. Song Man said, “Just now, I noticed the perfume on that person—it seemed to be the same kind as Miss Shen’s brother’s.”