Only after the elevator doors fully closed did Zhou Yunting withdraw his gaze.
He said to Yang Jiang, “Investigate that.”
Yang Jiang immediately understood and asked the front desk attendant to pull the surveillance footage.
Zhou Yunting had always been disciplined, self-restrained, and pure-minded. Having followed him for so long, Yang Jiang had never seen his boss take such an interest in any woman. This was the first time he had actively asked to look someone up.
When they exited the elevator, Shen Hua and Xu Manjin deliberately lagged behind the main group, finally seizing a moment to whisper.
Xu Manjin had been holding it in. She had noticed Shen Hua’s unease earlier, so she nudged Shen Hua’s arm and pouted, “That guy just now, does he have a thing for you?”
Shen Hua’s ears burned, but her face remained calm. “I don’t know. I don’t know him.”
Xu Manjin felt a bit regretful. “Girl, I didn’t mean to block your romantic interest. I just didn’t see him behind us. If you’re interested, I’ll go down with you to see if he’s still there.”
Shen Hua smiled and waved her hand. “Don’t worry about it. It’s just an unwanted romantic interest.”
That’s what she said, but throughout the entire party, Shen Hua found herself distracted.
The music and laughter all around seemed muffled, as if through a layer of fog.
By nearly eleven o’clock, Shen Hua’s spirits had sunk to rock bottom.
She never stayed up late, but recently she had too many events. When tired, she would curl up on the sofa for a bit. But today, her mind was in a mess, and she just wanted to leave.
She told Xu Manjin she was going, and Xu Manjin didn’t try to keep her, only asking if she needed a ride. Shen Hua smiled and waved it off. “No need. I’ll just grab a taxi downstairs.”
Stepping out of the building, the night wind carried a chill.
Shen Hua stood by the roadside waiting for a taxi, but the passing cabs were either full or had their “Not in Service” lights on.
As she stood on tiptoes looking around, a familiar black Rolls-Royce silently pulled up in front of her—the same one with three license plates she had seen that afternoon.
Shen Hua’s heart skipped a beat.
The next second, the rear window of the Rolls-Royce slowly rolled down. Against the streetlight, she saw a man’s silhouette.
The warm yellow lights from the building behind him left his face in shadow, revealing only a hint of a high-bridged nose and tightly pressed lips. His eyes held a trace of amusement as he stared at her.
He asked, “Where are you going? I’ll give you a ride.”
An occasional passing car headlight swept by, allowing Shen Hua to see clearly—it was the handsome man she had bumped into at the elevator door.
In the next instant, everything clicked into place.
This man was the one sitting in the back of the Rolls-Royce!
That meant, very likely, he had overheard all their photos, their crazy running, and their brazen discussion about “seducing the car owner”!
At that realization, Shen Hua’s ears burned crimson. She blurted out, “No need.”
This reaction surprised Zhou Yunting.
After all, just a while ago in the car, those two girls had been talking brazenly about how to seduce him. Now that he was offering the opportunity, this bold and outspoken young woman was suddenly so reserved.
Thinking this, he let out a low laugh, his voice carried by the night wind, a hint of magnetism in it. He switched to Mandarin. “Do you think I’m a bad person?”
Shen Hua didn’t notice he had changed languages. She was choked by the question.
She opened her mouth but didn’t know how to answer.
After hesitating for two seconds, she gave an almost imperceptible nod.
The movement was so slight that without close observation, you couldn’t see it.
It seemed she was quite cautious.
Zhou Yunting found it even more amusing.
He laughed again, this time more clearly.
He changed the subject, his tone casual. “Do you work here, or are you a student?”
Shen Hua asked back, “What about you?”
Zhou Yunting answered truthfully, “I work here. I’m a local.”
Only then did Shen Hua say, “I’m here to study.”
The man nodded, paused for a moment, then took the initiative. “Let’s get to know each other. My name is Lin Qinghuai. What’s yours?”
“Lin Qinghuai…”
Shen Hua murmured to herself, couldn’t help but frown slightly.
She couldn’t make out which three characters they were.
Zhou Yunting seemed to read her confusion. He pulled out his wallet from his suit pocket, took out a business card, and handed it over.
His fingers were long, with well-defined knuckles. The card rested on his fingertips, hovering by the car window.
He deliberately used the name “Lin Qinghuai.”
The three characters “Zhou Yunting” were too conspicuous in Hong Kong. He didn’t want to attract gossip about being pestered by a gold digger because of that afternoon’s little incident, nor did he want the young woman to fawn over him once she learned his identity.
His interest at the moment was merely a fleeting fancy sparked by her looks, not something long-term.
Seeing Shen Hua hesitate to take the card, Zhou Yunting raised an eyebrow, his tone carrying a hint of teasing. “Don’t worry, the card isn’t poisoned.”
Shen Hua smiled and reached out to take it.
The streetlight fell on the card. She looked down.
Black background with gold lettering—only the words “Lin Qinghuai” and a string of numbers. It was excessively simple.
Shen Hua was too busy staring at the card, still pondering the meaning of the name, when the man laughed and said, “Aren’t you mainlanders particular about reciprocal courtesy? Not going to tell me your name?”
She snapped back to reality.
Shen Hua looked up and said generously, “My surname is Shen, just one character: Hua.”
“How is it written?”
At the same moment, Zhou Yunting extended his hand, palm up, fingers slightly curled, his posture carrying a gentle insistence that was hard to refuse.
Shen Hua was taken aback. She didn’t rush to act. Looking down, she saw that his hand was exceptionally beautiful.
Well-defined knuckles, a hint of calluses on the fingertips, yet not rough. The veins on the back of his hand faintly visible, lines as clean as meticulously carved jade.
On his wrist was an understated watch with a dark silver face and a cold metallic band. Though she couldn’t see the logo, the quality alone told her it was priceless.
She didn’t touch his hand, only explained, “The female radical plus the character for painting—Shen Hua.”
Zhou Yunting’s gaze lingered on her face for a few seconds.
She was indeed a rare beauty—not the garish kind, but a cool sweetness with an unconscious spark in her brows and eyes. One look and you remembered her; a second look and she became even more captivating.
She was the kind of face that stunned at first sight and continued to stun at second.
The interest in his eyes deepened.
As he withdrew his hand, his fingertips unconsciously rubbed together.
“Shen Hua,” he repeated softly, drawing out the last syllable with a hint of the soft Cantonese accent. “So now we know each other.”
He glanced at the empty taxi lane by the roadside and said casually, “It’s hard to get a cab here late. Which university are you at? I’ll take you.”