Shen Hua’s face flushed red and then went pale.
In just a moment, she suppressed her emotions. When she lifted her eyes again, she had resumed her cheerful, smiling demeanor, deliberately dragging out her words as she mimicked a sweet Cantonese lilt: “Mr. Zhou helped me arrange the performance, so I’ll keep you company for one night. That’s not too much, is it?”
Zhou Yunting’s face turned green with anger.
He tossed the hot box into the nearby trash can.
“Do you have to talk to me like that?”
The only answer he got was silence.
Maybe they had already finished all their big fights long ago, going over and over the same knots that neither could untie.
Back then, they argued day and night. In the living room stood the fine porcelain Zhou Yunting had bid on; Shen Hua had no qualms about it—she grabbed whatever she could and smashed it, sending shards crashing to the floor. Later, every furnishing in the Deep Water Bay Villa was replaced.
They fought during the day and at night. Zhou Yunting wanted her to lower her head, rein in her temperament, learn to act like a proper young lady, and first win over his grandparents.
Shen Hua listened a few times and went to see Zhou Yunting’s grandparents properly. But when she actually arrived, she finally understood what it meant for an upper-class person’s humiliation to be coated in sugar—sweet to the taste, with the thorns hidden so well you couldn’t even detect them.
She had never felt so uneasy.
In her world, everyone was warm and courteous, including her own family. She had grown up soaked in harmony, never once hearing a single barb wrapped in sweet-coated sarcasm.
That day, she barely managed to maintain some semblance of politeness, and she felt that was all for Zhou Yunting’s sake.
After leaving the Zhou family home, Shen Hua thought about everything that had just happened and couldn’t hold it in any longer. She tore away the last shreds of pretense, her face stiff as she said coldly, “Your noble family—I’m not good enough for them. Go find someone else, why don’t you?”
Zhou Yunting was driving and nearly crashed into the median strip in his rage.
He suppressed his anger, turned the wheel, and pulled over at the next intersection before calming down enough to say, “Shen Hua, just because people slight you a little, you get angry. You take warmth as kindness and coldness as malice. But in this world, there are those with cold faces but warm hearts, and those with hidden daggers behind smiles. Can you even tell them apart?”
Shen Hua said bluntly, “They just don’t like me!”
Zhou Yunting sneered. “That’s just your vanity acting up.”
Shen Hua shot back, “My vanity? Do I have to spell it out for you? Let me tell you, Zhou Yunting, your family doesn’t like me because they think our families aren’t well-matched!”
Before Zhou Yunting could respond, she continued, “They think I want a piece of your assets. Zhou Yunting, let me tell you—I don’t care about that!”
“My family isn’t among the top tycoons in Suzhou, but our village is famous for being wealthy. Every household lives in a standalone villa! My family’s house is the biggest in the county, with front and back courtyards. My dad’s factory employs tens of thousands of people; he’s a big shot in the county. Even the district party secretary treats him with respect. From one end of the village to the other, everyone knows me!”
“My family supports at least an entire county, you know?”
“What do you think I see in you? Why would I need to latch onto your family’s assets?”
Zhou Yunting turned his head to look at her, seeing how earnestly she spoke. Her seriousness almost made him laugh despite his anger.
He sighed, calling her “Miss,” and softened his voice to coax her. “Can’t you just swallow a little pride for my sake? You look like you’re being tortured when you put on that stiff face—”
“Stiff face?” Shen Hua interrupted, gesturing exaggeratedly. “I was thinking of the funniest jokes I could remember, and I almost laughed my face off! Stiff face?”
“I nearly wanted to shout that we’re truly in love…”
At that, she paused, as if recalling something unpleasant. Her voice dropped. “Your grandparents couldn’t care less about the feelings between us. Have you heard the Chinese idiom? It’s ‘not worth mentioning.’”
“That’s called indirect persuasion, get it?” Zhou Yunting said patiently. “Speaking of Chinese idioms, don’t think I don’t know them. You’ve at least read ‘Romance of the Three Kingdoms,’ haven’t you? Liu Bei had to visit the thatched cottage three times before he could recruit Zhuge Liang. You’ve only seen them a few times. Once they relent, we can be together openly and aboveboard. Then we can go three or five years without seeing them if we want.”
When Shen Hua heard “openly and aboveboard,” her head throbbed even more. “What would you, a hypocritical English gentleman, understand? Just thinking about you makes me angry. When will we ever be open and aboveboard? I don’t want to waste my whole life like this, maintaining this shameful relationship with no future! I can’t do it! My parents would never allow it either!”
Zhou Yunting felt he had wasted his breath. His face turned cold. “I said I would marry you.”
Shen Hua’s heart clenched. “Zhou Yunting, do you even believe that yourself?”
She added fuel to the fire. “Can you make that decision?”
Zhou Yunting replied irritably, “The ancient Chinese said, ‘Only petty women and small men are hard to raise.’ Today I finally understand it fully. Everything I just said was wasted—you didn’t take in a single word.”
Shen Hua shot back immediately, “You’re the one who didn’t take in a single word!”
Zhou Yunting floored the accelerator. The Rolls-Royce’s engine gave a low roar, and the car shot forward, blurring the street scenes outside into streaks of light.
“Then let’s stop wasting our breath. When we get back, I’ll do it. I’ll put in earplugs. Scream all you want—I won’t stop. Cry if you have to—just bear it.”
Several times, the car scraped past obstacles, moving at a terrifying speed.
Shen Hua’s face went pale. She gripped the armrest for dear life and screamed, calling him a “bastard.”
The snow seemed to fall even harder now, rustling softly.
Zhou Yunting looked at Shen Hua, who sat silently beside him.
Her face was pale and translucent. Her long, curly eyelashes veiled those eyes that seemed dusted with stars, making them impossible to see. As if chilled by the cold, the tips of her ears and her neck had turned a faint pink, but her spine remained ramrod straight.
Against his will, Zhou Yunting’s thoughts drifted back to the past. Back then, for every word he said, Shen Hua would fire back three. Her eyes were bright, and even the way she pouted when sulking was full of life.
But now, she was like a stranger—even more false and colder than the Vienna snow.
Zhou Yunting’s chest felt tight, as if something was gently squeezing it, a dull ache he couldn’t tell was from anger or regret.
Shen Hua didn’t bother to look at his expression. She was just secretly relieved she had dressed lightly today, with her collar open, so even if her eyes grew hot, she could hold the tears back.
She sensed the oppressive atmosphere around her about ten seconds later.
She shot a quick glance at the man across from her and then spoke, barely managing to find a topic. “What exactly did you need to buy?”
“Red flower oil.”
Zhou Yunting’s voice came flatly.
Only then did Shen Hua remember the slap she had deliberately held back, not intending to actually hurt him.
She looked up at his right cheek. Sure enough, it was smooth and unmarked—not even a trace of redness, let alone swelling.
But as her gaze shifted and met the depth in his eyes, she flinched as if burned, quickly looking down at her own shoes. She muttered, “What a waste of time.”
Despite the complaint, she went back into the convenience store, bought a bottle of anti-swelling essential oil, and shoved it into his hand.
At that moment, a three-plate Rolls-Royce pulled up to the curb, its body gleaming coldly in the snowy night.
Zhou Yunting didn’t bring up what had just happened. He only asked, “Where to?”
“I’ll take a cab myself.” Shen Hua’s lashes trembled as she turned her face away.
Zhou Yunting repeated patiently, “Where to?”
Shen Hua knew she couldn’t avoid it, so she gave a location.
They got into the car one after the other. The interior was silent; neither spoke. Only the snowy scenery outside the window raced backward.
Zhou Yunting had been going nonstop for days and was now exhausted.
He raised a hand to his temple, his fingertips pressing slow, heavy circles.
Shen Hua wasn’t looking at him at first, but when she turned her head, her eyes caught his reflection in the car window.
The sight of him with lowered brows and a weary hand rubbing his forehead struck her unexpectedly.
She clenched her fingertips tightly, forcing down the impulse to reach over and massage his brow for him, pressing it deep into her heart.
The cold in the car still hung stiffly, suffocatingly oppressive.
Both of them in the back seat felt the urge to escape from reality.
Escape to where?
The first thing that came to mind for each was the memory of their first meeting, tied to this very car.
In Zhou Yunting’s memory, Shen Hua was vibrant and radiant, bounding into his territory, brimming with youthful energy.
In Shen Hua’s memory, Zhou Yunting was an arrogant face. Suit, vest, tie—all crisp and proper, radiating the refinement of a wealthy young master.
In that night of glitz and glamour, where power and beauty were traded, the look he cast her way gave a deceptive impression of warmth.
With polite familiarity, his slender fingertips extended a business card.
Later, Shen Hua learned that his certainty she would call him was the typical confident poise of a rich young gentleman.