13 – Threw it away
The room was dim, curtains tightly drawn, with morning light seeping through the cracks, casting faint, swaying shadows as the curtains shifted.
The lotus-pink silk duvet on the bed was crumpled and wrinkled. After a moment, a leg emerged from beneath it, followed by a body turning over and clutching the blanket. A pale face peeked out from the covers.
A thin layer of sweat glistened on the person’s forehead, likely from the excessive heat of the air conditioner. Having been stifled for so long, they now felt somewhat breathless.
Wen Man’s legs were wrapped around the duvet as her hands fumbled over it, quickly sensing something amiss. She flipped over and sat up abruptly, wide-eyed as she took in her surroundings.
The bedroom was cozy, with a soft, comfortable bed. Beside it stood a wide-open beige wardrobe filled with clothes that didn’t match Wen Man’s style. Even the carpet was a deep gray.
This wasn’t a hotel, and it certainly wasn’t Wen Man’s home.
Realizing this, Wen Man’s hair was disheveled, her eyes filled with panic as she looked down and touched her clothes.
They had been changed. Even her innerwear had been undone, and she had no idea where it had been tossed. Wen Man scanned the room but found no trace of it.
She tried moving her body—nothing felt out of the ordinary, but her head was heavy. As she shifted, a wave of dizziness washed over her, leaving her pale and nauseous.
Had she been… taken advantage of while drunk?!
Wen Man bit her lip tightly, her face drained of color. Instantly, her mind flooded with thoughts of public relations statements.
Though she wasn’t exactly a mainstream celebrity, she was still someone in the industry…
Wen Man’s mind felt like a snapped string, grinding to a halt.
Wait, she had seen Jiang Jin before getting drunk last night.
Wen Man collapsed back onto the bed, her face ashen, eyes dull and vacant as she stared blankly at the ceiling.
Outside the bedroom, Wendy heard the noise and knocked twice on the door before turning the handle.
As she entered, Wendy saw Wen Man sprawled on the bed in a starfish-like pose, looking utterly defeated.
Wendy chuckled, biting into a cucumber in her hand. “What are you doing, Miss Wen?”
Hearing Wendy’s voice, Wen Man immediately looked up. In an instant, she sprang up, staring intently at Wendy as she asked, “Did you bring me back yesterday?!”
Wendy crossed her arms, leaning against the doorframe with a hint of amusement in her eyes. She chewed on the cucumber teasingly, “Who else did you expect? Wen Yanchuan?”
Wen Man froze, a flicker of confusion in her eyes. “Mr. Wen?”
Wendy raised an eyebrow. “Of course. Last night, someone said they were going out for some fresh air and never came back. When I went looking, I found someone practically glued to Wen Yanchuan, unable to tear themselves away.”
Wen Man’s face flushed crimson with embarrassment, her tone tinged with disbelief. “What was Mr. Wen doing at the celebration?”
Wendy shrugged, crunching on her cucumber. “How would I know? I don’t even know him.”
Then, she glanced meaningfully at Wen Man. “But you, little Wen, quietly getting to know such a big shot—you should’ve said something earlier. If you wanted to break into the fashion scene, you wouldn’t have needed my help.”
It would’ve been as simple as Wen Yanchuan lifting a finger or giving a nod.
Wen Man shook her head slightly, saying only, “I’ve only met him twice. We’re not close.”
She lowered her gaze, fragments of memory flashing through her mind.
Vaguely, she did seem to recall Wen Yanchuan standing right in front of her, but she had thought it was just a dream and had even rambled on quite a bit.
But how could Wen Yanchuan have come? Wasn’t he away on a business trip?
Or maybe he had actually returned long ago, just didn’t want to have any contact with her.
Or perhaps Wen Yanchuan hadn’t gone on a business trip at all—maybe that was just his excuse.
Wen Man bit her lip tightly. Well, it made sense. Someone as lofty as him was never in the same world as her in the first place. Why should she torment herself here? Just a casual remark from Wen Yanchuan had kept her preoccupied until now.
What dinner invitation? It was nothing more than an offhand comment.
Plenty of people would jump at the chance to have dinner with Wen Yanchuan. What was she, Wen Man, in comparison?
Thinking this way, Wen Man felt a surge of anger.
Wendy, noticing Wen Man’s distracted look, asked, “Wen, little girl? What’s on your mind?”
Wen Man retreated under the covers, hiding the emotions in her eyes, and asked inexplicably, “What do you think of Wen Yanchuan?”
Hearing Wen Man ask this, Wendy had a pretty good idea what was going on. She rolled her eyes and answered quite objectively.
“If you ask me about anyone in the fashion industry, I can give you a rundown. But Wen Yanchuan isn’t someone ordinary folks like me can get close to. As they say, different professions are worlds apart. I don’t understand business and finance, but just reading the newspapers and news, you can tell he’s impressive—young, accomplished, gentlemanly and polite, handsome and wealthy. But I think what you’re really asking isn’t about that.”
Of course, Wen Man already knew all that.
“Is he really… the kind of person who would keep a mistress?”
Wendy raised an eyebrow, instantly understanding what Wen Man was thinking.
She quickly finished the cucumber in her hand, walked into the bedroom, and plopped down on the edge of the bed. “You can’t judge a book by its cover. Who knows what’s true unless you see it with your own eyes? But these things are unavoidable. Men, once they have money, play around. What kind of woman hasn’t Wen Yanchuan seen? Even if he isn’t that kind of person, there’s no telling how many women would throw themselves at him. He might not be able to resist the temptation.”
After saying this, Wendy raised her head and made a grasping motion with both hands, her tone full of admiration.
“Come on! That’s Wen Yanchuan we’re talking about!”
Wen Man bit her lip, feeling that Wendy made a lot of sense.
She had only met Wen Yanchuan twice… no, three times.
How could she possibly understand Wen Yanchuan’s character? Besides, the gap between her and Wen Yanchuan was like heaven and earth.
In an instant, Wen Man felt she had figured it out.
Wendy looked at Wen Man and reminded her, “When he brought you back yesterday, Wen Yanchuan draped a coat over you. Do you want to return it?”
As she spoke, Wendy took the suit coat out of the closet and handed it to Wen Man.
A familiar scent wafted over, and Wen Man instantly knew for sure—Wen Yanchuan had really been right in front of her last night.
Wen Man didn’t take it, nor did she even glance at the clothes. She turned over and burrowed under the covers, her tone turning chilly.
“He’s rich. Throw it away.”
Just like the way she had dealt with the clothes he gave her to help her out of a tight spot during their first meeting—just throw it away.
After all, he despised it.
Just thinking about it made Wen Man feel a tightness in her chest.
Meanwhile, in Beijing.
Inside the villa hotel, Wen Yanchuan had just returned from a meeting, leaning back in a rattan chair with a weary expression.
It was nearing noon, the sun hanging high in the sky. It had snowed the night before, but now there was a warm, cozy feeling in the air.
Wen Yanchuan took out his phone and opened WeChat. Under Wen Man’s profile picture, there wasn’t a single message—still maintaining the same restraint as before.
The two words “Okay” at the end of the chat overflowed with cold indifference from the screen.
At that moment, Wen Yanchuan finally felt that something wasn’t quite right.
His slender fingers tapped lightly on the screen as he sent a message: 【Awake?】
The reply came almost instantly, arriving the very next second.
Wen Yanchuan picked up his phone to look.
【The other party has enabled friend verification. You must add them as a friend to send messages.】
Wen Yanchuan: ?