7 – Six Million Is Enough to Ruin Her
Wen Man was taken aback. She picked up her phone and glanced at the number on the screen before putting it back to her ear, her voice faltering.
“Mr. Wen… Mr. Wen? How did you get my number?”
As she spoke, Wen Man felt a twinge of guilt and instinctively glanced at the gown she had crumpled into a ball and tossed onto the sofa.
The messy, wrinkled gown lay draped over the beige sofa like a withered rose, its sight burning Wen Man’s eyes, making her unable to look at it for long.
She had the illusion of being caught doing something wrong, though she couldn’t pinpoint where this feeling came from.
Wen Yanchuan’s deep voice came through the phone again: “Miss Wen transferred money to my account. It’s not difficult to find out your private number.”
Wen Man blinked, realizing for the first time how efficient her assistant was. It had been less than half an hour, and the person in question was already calling.
Wen Man walked over to the sofa, sat cross-legged on it barefoot, hugged her knees, and asked in a muffled voice, “Is there something you need, Mr. Wen?”
Wen Yanchuan paused before asking, “Are you busy?”
Wen Man glanced at the time—it was already half past one in the morning.
She shook her head, then realized he couldn’t see her, and added, “No, I was just about to rest.”
Wen Yanchuan’s Adam’s apple bobbed slightly as he let out a low “Hmm.”
“I’ve disturbed you, Miss Wen.”
Wen Man’s tongue seemed to tie itself in knots as she stumbled over her words: “No, not at all. I was just about to take a shower. It’s still early.”
Wen Yanchuan fell completely silent on the other end. Wen Man once again realized she had said the wrong thing. She slid off the sofa, crouched on the rug, buried her face in the cushions, her ears tinged with a faint pink.
“Mr. Wen, that’s not what I meant,” Wen Man explained.
She wasn’t sure if it was her imagination, but she thought she heard Wen Yanchuan chuckle softly.
“Does Miss Wen always speak in such a suggestive way to everyone?”
Wen Man twisted her hands together, completely at a loss for words.
Wen Yanchuan didn’t press her further and instead asked, “What did you mean by transferring that money to me?”
The room fell silent for a moment. Wen Man lifted her face from the sofa, her cheeks flushed like faint clouds, her hair disheveled. She casually brushed it back.
“That gown was too expensive, Mr. Wen, and the red wine too. I can’t afford it.”
Six million meant nothing to Wen Yanchuan, but to Wen Man, it was real, hard-earned money.
Wen Yanchuan sat in his chair, the wheels swaying slightly as he shifted his weight. He held a cigarette in one hand, gazing out the floor-to-ceiling window at the view outside.
“It seems Miss Wen has misunderstood me,” Wen Yanchuan said. “I can certainly afford to give a gown as a gift.”
What he meant was, I, Wen Yanchuan, don’t need you to repay me in kind.
Wen Man knew he looked down on her six million, and a sense of discomfort rose within her. She pursed her lips, silently mimicking Wen Yanchuan’s earlier words, then rolled her eyes and cursed inwardly, “What’s so great about being rich?”
But in truth, Wen Man knew that being rich was indeed something great.
Seeing that Wen Man remained silent, Wen Yanchuan changed the subject and asked, “What are your plans lately?”
Wen Man lowered her head, still crouching on the floor, one hand fiddling with the carpet’s fibers as she replied, “I’m taking a train back to Shanghai tomorrow afternoon.”
After answering, Wen Man felt that this one-sided conversation style was too dry, so she also asked Wen Yanchuan, “What about you, Mr. Wen?”
Wen Yanchuan extinguished his cigarette and tossed it into the glass ashtray. He casually pushed aside the laptop next to him, his slender fingers lightly tapping the spacebar, and the screen lit up.
He didn’t even glance at the screen carefully, only giving it a brief scan before replying in a deep voice, “Hmm, what a coincidence. I’m also going to Shanghai tomorrow.”
Wen Man’s fingers tightened, plucking a strand of wool from the carpet.
“What a coincidence, Mr. Wen.”
After saying this, Wen Man felt she really wasn’t good at making conversation.
Wen Yanchuan chuckled softly, “Yes, what a coincidence.”
He leaned back in his chair, looking up at the ceiling. His Adam’s apple bobbed slightly as he spoke in a low, husky voice, “So, Miss Wen, when will you fulfill your promise to treat me to dinner tonight?”
Wen Man was taken aback. Right, the six million had been repaid, but the favor remained unsettled.
She stood up and walked over to the marble counter, leaning against it lightly.
The skin of her thigh touched the cold marble surface, sending a chill through her. Wen Man’s long eyelashes fluttered slightly, her tone carrying a hint of pettiness, “Mr. Wen, you’re so busy. Could you really be short of a meal from me?”
Wen Yanchuan toyed with a lighter in his hand, its silver surface heavy as he flicked it open and closed.
Wen Man’s voice wasn’t particularly soft or sweet; it carried a mature charm. He had seen her profile—twenty-five years old, but still somewhat younger than him.
Yet now, her voice softened, tinged with a lingering warmth, and the pleasant curl at the end of her words, spoken close to the receiver, seemed to echo in his ear like a coquettish whisper.
As if… she was right there, whispering in his ear.
Wen Yanchuan let out a deep breath, his voice magnetic.
“Miss Wen, you really have some misunderstandings about me.”
His voice carried a trace of almost imperceptible amusement, “I’m poor. I really am short of this meal from you, Miss Wen.”
Listening to Wen Yanchuan’s voice, Wen Man felt her heartstrings tighten.
She had entered the entertainment industry at twenty—what kind of man hadn’t she seen in this world of fame and fortune?
But someone like Wen Yanchuan—she truly hadn’t encountered before.
He was like an intangible yet real… nicotine, subtly tempting her from time to time.
Wen Man felt she was being absurd. From the moment she first met Wen Yanchuan, she had been uncontrollably drawn along by him.
This feeling wasn’t pleasant at all.
She kept telling herself to stay away from Wen Yanchuan, to keep some distance.
But every time she interacted with him, whether seeing him in person or hearing his voice, her heart felt uncontrollably stirred.
She had almost blurted out an agreement to Wen Yanchuan just now.
Wen Man bit the tip of her tongue, her long hair falling to the sides of her face. She casually brushed it aside, lowering her head to look at her toes.
What had she done to deserve Wen Yanchuan lowering himself to call himself a poor man, lacking a meal from her, Wen Man?
“Mr. Wen, perhaps you don’t understand me either.”
Wen Man said this, “I’m just a third-tier actress. Six million is already an astronomical sum to me.”
Wen Yanchuan was playing the poor card with her, so she countered in return.
“After transferring six million to your account, I’m on the verge of bankruptcy, Mr. Wen. I don’t have the money to treat you to dinner anymore.”
This time, Wen Man clearly heard Wen Yanchuan laugh.
The air fell silent. She waited quietly for Wen Yanchuan to express his regret, then end this call and put an end to her own absurd thoughts and notions.
Wen Yanchuan pondered for a moment, then asked Wen Man.
“Then let me treat Miss Wen to a meal instead. Is that acceptable?”