Inside the private room at Jingjing International Club, a male model with a bare upper body was dancing with passionate intensity.
His posture was straight, his muscles well-defined, and his low-rise black pants, combined with the chiseled abdominal muscles above, looked wild and seductive under the flashing lights, drawing screams from the women below.
Ji Qingtang leaned back in the plush booth, swirling the wine glass in her hand.
“A male model dancing hot—sounds thrilling. So, what do you think? Getting your blood pumping?”
Ji Qingtang glanced at the dance floor, her lack of interest obvious in her tone. “It’s just so-so. Average at best.”
His muscle definition was decent, but honestly, he didn’t hold a candle to her cheap, plastic husband, Shen Jinyu.
“That can’t be. Liu Chun’s a hidden high-roller when it comes to fun. If she’s the one setting up this party and footing the bill, she’d definitely book the most expensive male models.”
Meng Xiao stepped into the elevator. “Oh, by the way, at the club entrance earlier, I spotted someone from a distance—looked a lot like your husband. You’re playing this wild lately. Aren’t you afraid he’ll catch you?”
Ji Qingtang let out a light scoff. “Who does he think he is to control me?”
Hearing that, Meng Xiao chuckled. “The proud and gorgeous rich girl Qingtang—naturally, no one dares to control you.”
That remark pleased Ji Qingtang. “Where are you now? If you don’t hurry up, I’m leaving.”
“Don’t be like that. Let me see the world a little.” Meng Xiao stared at the red numbers ticking up on the elevator display, excitement bubbling in her voice. “Gotta go—I’m almost there. Wait for your big sister to tuck the receipts into their belts!”
…
The music paused, and the male model retreated behind the stage to change. The dazzling, flashing lights dimmed into a soft, romantic glow.
The young ladies, who had been screaming for a while, finally returned to their seats to sip their drinks.
Though the party was thrown for Liu Chun’s birthday, Ji Qingtang found herself at the center of attention.
“Darling, why are you sitting here drinking all alone?”
Liu Chun, who had known Ji Qingtang for years, teased her with a smile. “Married now, tied down, and too restrained to have fun anymore?”
Ji Qingtang tapped the rim of her glass with her fingertip. “The venue’s too small. No interest.”
Liu Chun laughed. “That was just an appetizer. The next round has more variety.”
Ji Qingtang didn’t respond, but to save face for them, she raised her glass.
As the glasses clinked, someone took a sip and immediately gushed with sparkling eyes, eager to flatter Ji Qingtang. “This is truly a rare vintage that Miss Ji brought. It’s priceless—money can’t buy it.”
Everyone present was sharp as a tack. Though they claimed to be celebrating Liu Chun’s birthday, their real aim was to network with Ji Qingtang. Seeing her curve her lips and nod, they all chimed in with flattery.
“It’s not just the wine—the dress Miss Ji is wearing tonight is the latest haute couture.”
“That necklace Miss Ji has on—there’s probably not a second one like it in the whole world.”
“Stop calling her Miss Ji—you should say Mrs. Shen. Everyone in the circle knows how close Shen and his wife are.”
“Exactly. Their wedding shook the entire capital back then.”
“…”
Ji Qingtang was growing impatient with the chatter. Just as she was about to cut in, the door to the private room suddenly swung open.
Everyone in the room turned to look.
Ji Qingtang unhurriedly finished the red wine in her glass, setting the goblet down on the table as her red lips parted. “You’re this late—don’t tell me you got lost?”
With that, she turned her head toward the direction of the door.
The man was tall and imposing, standing nearly a head taller than the waiter in the vest beside him. His black shirt was worn without a tie—the look was casual yet refined, and his bearing was nothing short of noble and unapproachable. Soft light refracted from the crystal wall sconces, casting faint traces across his face. His brow was sharp, his gaze deep and dark, and the thin lips beneath his high-bridged nose were drawn into a faint, unreadable curve.
How… how could it be Shen Jinyu?!
The two locked eyes from a distance.
He had always carried an air of cold indifference and commanding presence, and now, dressed in a black shirt and black trousers, he seemed even more sharp-edged and austere.
Ji Qingtang frowned. Wasn’t he supposed to be abroad for at least another week?
Shen Jinyu strode over, stopping beside her and looking down at her. “Had enough fun?”
The person who had been rattling off flattery moments ago now fell utterly silent—whether cowed by Shen Jinyu’s overwhelming presence or holding their breath for Ji Qingtang, it was hard to tell.
Ji Qingtang curved her lips into a smile, rose to her feet, and arched her brows sweetly. “Honey, why did you only come to pick me up now? I’ve been waiting for you forever.”
The devoted-couple persona could not be allowed to crumble.
In front of outsiders, she still had to put on a show.
After all, Ji Qingtang could lose anything—except face.
As luck would have it, the moment she finished speaking, a group of male models in fresh attire walked onto the stage, and several poles slowly rose from the floor.
Just as Liu Chun had said, this time they had pulled out all the stops.
Not only had the number of male models doubled, but they were also barefoot, with only towels wrapped around their lower halves.
Shen Jinyu frowned, then shifted his gaze from the dance floor back to Ji Qingtang.
She was wearing a shimmering slip dress, her exposed skin delicate and fair, the hint of allure beneath her collarbones nothing short of captivating.
A few months apart, and she had only grown wilder.
Shen Jinyu wrapped an arm around her slender waist, his expression calm as he fixed his eyes on her striking face. “Leave now, or should I stay and watch with you a while longer?”
This bastard of a man—fine, so his face was cold and sour, but did he have to speak in such a mocking tone?
Would a smile have killed him?
A few months apart, and he’d already forgotten how to play the devoted, trusting couple, had he?
Ji Qingtang suppressed her anger. “This was just a party for Liu Chun’s birthday anyway. I’ll head off first—you all have fun.”
…
Once they were out of the private room, Ji Qingtang’s face went cold as she tossed her bag at Shen Jinyu and strode off in her heels without looking back.
The car was parked at the club entrance, and the driver respectfully opened the rear door.
Ji Qingtang ignored it entirely, opening the passenger door herself and bending down to get in.
Shen Jinyu stepped forward and caught her wrist. “Sit in the back.”
Ji Qingtang frowned and tried to pull free, but her wrist remained firmly in his grip. “Let go. You’re hurting me.”
Shen Jinyu loosened his hold slightly, but he did not release her wrist.
The two stood frozen in front of the car, and the driver, sensing the razor-thin tension in the air, barely dared to breathe.
Ji Qingtang pressed her red lips into a thin line, shot him a glare, and then walked over to the rear seat.
The car pulled away, and Ji Qingtang propped her elbow on the window ledge, turning her head to look outside—a clear signal that she had no interest in conversation.
The night was thick, the lights dazzling, and the car glided smoothly along the elevated highway.
When the call from Meng Xiao came in, Ji Qingtang barely had time to curse her for jinxing it before a shriek burst through the phone:
“Aaaaaah! Baby! This is an absolute visual feast! Thank you, Miss Ji, for showing me this dazzling world! Did you touch the male model’s abs? The feel must have been incredible!”
The car fell into dead silence. Ji Qingtang’s phone volume was turned up high, making Meng Xiao’s voice especially loud.
Shen Jinyu, who had been leaning back in the rear seat with his eyes closed, suddenly opened them and turned his head to look at Ji Qingtang.
Ji Qingtang tensed up for no reason and quickly pressed the button to lower the volume.
Meng Xiao, completely unaware, kept chattering on.
“Why aren’t you saying anything? Where are you? Why can’t I see you?”
“You call that average? Have you seen bigger spectacles, or has your husband raised your standards?”
Ji Qingtang let out a breath and hung up the phone directly.
Shen Jinyu rolled up his shirt cuffs, looking at her with a hint of amusement in his eyes.
“Go on, tell me. I’d also like to know—has Mrs. Shen ever touched a male model’s abs?”
Ji Qingtang tilted her head slightly, meeting his gaze without flinching. “That’s none of your business.”
The corner of Shen Jinyu’s mouth twitched, and a low, ambiguous chuckle escaped his lips.
Ji Qingtang frowned. “What’s so funny?”
Shen Jinyu leaned closer, grabbed her wrist, and forcefully spread her palm, pressing it against his chest and abdomen, moving it along with deliberate pressure. His tone was low and slow.
“Between me and those male models, whose body is more to your satisfaction?”