Zhou Kang was seized with instant regret. He cast desperate glances at Su Nian, silently pleading for help. He had merely teased her a little surely that was not a capital offense?
Su Nian, in no position to intercede, kept her head bowed and studied her own feet.
Zhou Beiming noticed Zhou Kang’s beseeching gaze fixed upon Su Nian, and his tone turned sharp and biting. “Is your sister-in-law so very beautiful that you cannot tear your eyes away?”
Zhou Kang sensed a murderous aura closing in around him. “Not beautiful… not beautiful at all…” Damn! “…Beautiful…”
He was thoroughly flustered. Was she supposed to be beautiful or not? “Fine! I’ll drink it! I’ll drink the whole thing, all right?”
Zhou Kang fled all the way to the kitchen. There he found Aunt Zhang clearing up. A large basin of pitch-black liquid sat steaming on the counter, heavy with the scent of burnt caramel. Zhou Kang held the basin in one hand, pinched his nose with the other, and steeled himself to drink only to recoil, unable to bring himself to take a single sip.
Aunt Zhang looked on in bewilderment. “Young Master Zhou Kang… whatever are you doing drinking that?”
Zhou Kang did not explain. He looked utterly wretched. “Aunt Zhang… what on earth is this concoction?” It looked different from what Su Nian had been given glistening, oily, and thoroughly unappetizing.
Aunt Zhang could not help but chuckle. “I didn’t make that. Young Master Beiming rose before dawn to prepare black sugar and ginger tea himself. He fried the sugar in oil… and burned it quite badly.”
This was poison personally brewed by his cousin! So it was true he really had gone out last night to buy sanitary pads for Su Nian! Zhou Kang had always assumed his cousin had brought some random woman home for appearances. Clearly… he had been wrong.
The oily surface rippled darkly, seeming to mock him like a grinning demon. I’ll pour it down the drain, he thought. Surely no one will notice.
No sooner had the thought crossed his mind than the butler appeared like a phantom in the doorway. “Young Master Zhou Kang… the Young Master sends word: if so much as a single drop is spilled or missed, he will have ten more pots brewed immediately, and you shall drink every drop.”
Zhou Kang shuddered. Accepting his fate, he lifted the basin, threw back his head, and drank it all in one draught, as marching to the gallows.
In the garage, Su Nian walked a step behind Zhou Beiming. He had long legs, yet he walked at an unhurried pace. As they neared the familiar Maybach, Su Nian automatically moved toward the passenger side.
Zhou Beiming noticed she had fallen behind and turned back. “What is it?”
Su Nian looked at him in confusion. Was this not the car he always drove?
Zhou Beiming glanced at the vehicle. “We’re taking something different today.”
Luxury cars filled the garage in every direction. Su Nian assumed he had simply grown bored of the Maybach and wished to drive another. He stopped before a gleaming Ferrari. “Get in.”
Su Nian began walking toward the passenger door, only to feel a light tug on her ponytail. Zhou Beiming stood behind her. “Like this one?” He nodded toward the bright red convertible.
Su Nian had no idea what gave him that impression. She had long grown accustomed to his peculiar ways of thinking. “Not at all. Aren’t you planning to drive it?”
Zhou Beiming reached past her, plucked the keys from the ignition, and tossed them casually into her hands. “It’s yours.”
Su Nian caught them before they could hit the ground. “No, thank you.” She spoke firmly. She might lack money, but she was not ignorant of value. When Su Feixiao turned eighteen, her father had given her a Ferrari worth over three million. This one was far finer easily upwards of five million. She tried to hand the keys back.
Zhou Beiming pinched the soft flesh of her cheek. “If you don’t want it, donate it. Do whatever pleases you.”
Utterly ridiculous. Su Nian pushed the keys back into his palm. “I already have a car. Truly I don’t want it.” She had purchased an economical sedan for eighty thousand yuan with prize money from a research project she had co-designed.
Zhou Beiming looked down at the keys, then lifted his phone and made a call. “Axuan… prepare a vehicle for donation. Register it in the name of Su Nian ”
“You must be mad!” Su Nian stood on tiptoe, snatching the phone from his hand. “Cars depreciate in value. If you insist on donating something, donate cash instead!”
Zhou Beiming watched her clutching his phone. From the receiver, Bai Xuan’s voice could be heard: “Young Master… which vehicle shall we donate?”
Zhou Beiming’s lips curled into a faint, knowing smile. “Ask the Young Mistress. She holds the phone.”
Bai Xuan fell silent on the other end, thoroughly bewildered. Young Mistress? Holding the Young Master’s phone? Who on earth dares Su Nian? He nearly dropped the phone in shock. Was his master serious? Hastily, he adopted his most deferential tone. “Young Mistress… which vehicle would you like to donate?”
Su Nian felt as though she were holding a hot potato. She hurriedly thrust the phone back into Zhou Beiming’s hand. Let him do as he pleased. He had more money than he knew what to do with anyway.
Zhou Beiming spoke calmly into the receiver. “Look up the current market value of the red Ferrari. Donate that exact amount… in cash.”
“But sir… that is a limited-edition model. Its value has appreciated to ”
Zhou Beiming ended the call. He tossed the car keys back to her. Su Nian caught them once more. He turned and walked toward a different row of cars. “Keep it… or donate it. Suit yourself.”
Su Nian stood burdened jewels worth hundreds of millions slung over one shoulder, and a Ferrari pressed into her arms. It was more weight than life should ask one to bear.
Meanwhile, Zhou Beiming pressed the unlock button on a plain Volkswagen key. A modest white sedan flashed its lights. He glanced back at her, his tone lazy and amused. “Miss Su? I have a meeting at half-past nine. Do you mean to stand there all day?”
Su Nian stared at the unassuming little car, thoroughly confused. She hurried around and climbed inside.
Zhou Beiming steered smoothly out of the garage. Glancing sideways, he asked casually, “Will this car be discreet enough to park outside your institute?”
Su Nian’s heart sank. He was referring to the excuse she had invented yesterday that his usual car was too ostentatious to be seen parked at work. She felt a twinge of guilt. Thankfully, her colleagues and professors all drove modest vehicles; no one flaunted wealth there. If they did… she would be in serious trouble.
She held her breath the entire drive. When they reached the institute parking lot, filled entirely with plain, unremarkable sedans, Su Nian finally exhaled in relief.
Before she could step out, Zhou Beiming gestured toward the backseat. “The Old Master asked me to give you this.” He handed her a pink insulated food container.
The institute ran a free cafeteria. Su Nian could not cook, so she ate all her meals there. She often watched other students and faculty opening homemade lunch containers and felt a quiet twinge of envy.
Zhou Beiming noticed her staring at the container. He himself looked upon it with distinct disdain. “Ugly thing. Take it inside and toss it in the trash.”
Su Nian frowned. “It is not ugly at all.” She cradled it gently, her heart swelling with quiet warmth. “Please thank Grandfather on my behalf.”
Zhou Beiming saw how carefully she held it. “Thank him yourself. I’m busy.” He tapped his phone and sent a contact number to her WeChat. “Sent it.”
Su Nian decided not to grace that remark with a reply. She reached for the door handle only to find it locked. She looked questioningly at Zhou Beiming. Surely even he understood that gesture.
Zhou Beiming merely smiled, roguish and teasing. “Reluctant to part with me?”
Su Nian stared at him flatly. “The door won’t open.”
Zhou Beiming released the steering wheel, leaned back lazily in his seat, and tilted his head to study her. “This is the first time I’ve driven my girlfriend to work. Where is my reward?”
Su Nian looked at him in utter bewilderment. He possessed everything imaginable why come begging rewards from her? She earned barely a few thousand yuan a month at the institute. “Fine. What do you want?”
Zhou Beiming met her clear, guileless gaze. His brows drew together, and he uttered four short words: “Utterly devoid of romance.”
Su Nian looked away and muttered quietly, “I am not a worm living in your belly. How am I supposed to know what you want?” Anything fit to give him would surely cost tens of thousands and the mere thought already made her wince.