The accompaniment on the screen switched to the next track, and the prelude of “Suspended Drowning” began to play.
Amidst the music and dim lighting, the man sitting on the sofa moved, extinguishing the half-smoked cigarette between his fingers in the ashtray beside him.
He stood up, his tall figure blocking Tangxi Li’s line of sight. His voice was low, magnetic, and gentle. “Miss Tangxi, I am Yong Zhixu. Pleased to meet you.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Tangxi Li responded politely.
She hadn’t paid much attention at first, but his voice was exceptionally pleasing to the ear, like clear spring water melting the snow of early spring, carrying a warmth that felt like a gentle thaw.
It reminded her greatly of a voice actor from a radio drama that Zhou Zhou had once shared with her.
Involuntarily, she glanced sideways. What was his name again? Yong something Xu?
It was at that moment that someone turned on the lights.
Brightness dispelled the dimness, spilling over the tall and imposing figure of the man.
His features suddenly became clear and distinct.
His lips were delicately shaped, his eyebrows sharply defined—a face of striking elegance and refinement.
He had a side-parted textured undercut hairstyle and wore an expensive black shirt, its collar meticulously fastened with a silver collar pin.
A black tie was also adorned with a silver tie clip engraved with English letters, every detail exuding sophistication.
His hands were long and fair, his finger bones slender and translucent, and around his wrist was a string of intricately patterned, priceless wild kyara agarwood prayer beads.
The contours of his firm muscles were clearly visible beneath the thin fabric of his clothes, exuding an indescribable sexual tension and an aura of restrained desire.
What surprised Tangxi Li was that although the man’s features were deep and sharply defined—giving him a naturally cold appearance—he radiated an innate warmth and refinement, full of grace and cultivation.
He was like a breathtaking masterpiece forged from the beauty of lakes and mountains—elegant and transcendent.
While Tangxi Li was observing him, the man was also looking at her.
His long, narrow phoenix eyes were clear and bright, like spring water reflecting pear blossoms, shining with brilliance.
Perhaps the eye contact was too sudden, or perhaps Tangxi Li’s gaze was too direct, but after a few seconds, the man averted his eyes and sat down as if nothing had happened.
The tips of his ears quietly turned red.
Tangxi Li also stopped looking at him and took a seat in the nearest available spot.
In the private room, “Suspended Drowning” continued to drift through the air: “So funny, Yaiyaiyaiyaiyai…”
The others were already gathered around Zhou Zhou, catching up, and didn’t notice what had happened between them.
Only Chen Zui noticed that his third brother’s ears had secretly turned red.
He smirked teasingly, mentally conjuring an exaggerated eye-rolling meme.
Oh, oh, oh—some people claim to be indifferent to romance, but their bodies betray them.
His eyes shifted, and he sat down beside Tangxi Li. With a smile, he said word by word, “Miss Tangxi, my third brother is named Yong Zhixu. ‘Yong’ as in majestic and dignified, ‘Zhi’ as in persistent, and ‘Xu’ as in prologue.”
“???” The sudden and seemingly irrelevant remark puzzled Tangxi Li, who had already withdrawn her gaze.
Why was he telling her this?
What did it have to do with her?
Wait—Yong Zhixu?
Tangxi Li’s eyes flickered. The music had been a bit loud earlier, so she hadn’t heard clearly. But this name—she had heard it before.
Three years ago, she had stirred up storms on Wall Street, earning the bitter resentment of capital tycoons.
A year later, Wall Street was shaken once again.
And that person was Yong Zhixu. His methods were even more sophisticated than hers, and the amount of money he cashed out was greater than what she had taken.
The capitalists were nearly driven mad, sending countless mercenaries to China to hunt him down.
Her secretary, Jane, had mentioned him more than once, saying that the two of them were the bane of Wall Street. If they were to join forces, it was unimaginable what kind of scene would unfold.A few days ago, on the way to the An Family, Ji Fuzheng had earnestly warned her that she could do whatever she wanted in the capital, but she absolutely must not provoke a man named Yong Zhixu.
Little did she expect to meet the man himself today.
Tangxi Li was quite surprised. She lifted her eyelids and let her gaze fall upon the man opposite her once more.
This time, it wasn’t a perfunctory glance, but a serious look at the man of such renowned reputation.
It was said that Yong San-ye of the capital came from an illustrious background, as pure and untouchable as snow atop a high mountain, as profound and flawless as pristine jade.
He was also known for his self-discipline, keeping his distance from women, often called the Earthly Buddha—noble and inviolable.
Indeed, seeing him in person was far better than hearing a hundred descriptions.
“Oh.” She withdrew her gaze and replied to Chen Zui with a single, emotionless word.
Then, she pulled out her phone and began idly scrolling through the electronic version of the project proposal sent by Secretary Jane.
Seeing her complete lack of interest, Chen Zui pinched his chin, feeling a bit disbelieving.
Their third brother was exceptional in both character and appearance, like a refreshing breeze under the bright moon—a proud son of heaven.
He wouldn’t go so far as to say any woman would fall for him at first sight, but the reaction of showing absolutely no interest was simply impossible.
It defied all logic!
He waved his hand in front of Tangxi Li’s eyes, suspecting she might have vision problems.
As his hand repeatedly blocked the project proposal on her screen, Tangxi Li furrowed her delicate brows in annoyance. “What are you doing?”
“N-nothing.” Chen Zui awkwardly withdrew his hand and fell into deep thought.
On the other end of the sofa, after downing several glasses of wine, Zhou Zhou began pouring out her troubles to Yunchuan.
She went on and on about her unfortunate streak of always encountering scumbags, confiding in her childhood friend.
She was so engrossed in her lament that, with tears and sniffles, she completely failed to notice Yunchuan’s gradually cooling expression and the barely suppressed emotions flickering in his eyes.
Worried that Zhou Zhou might start causing a scene if she drank too much, Tangxi Li reached over and pinched her arm. “Drink less.”
Zhou Zhou was already quite tipsy, her eyes hazy. She patted Tangxi Li’s hand and pouted, coquettishly pleading, “A-Li, just let me drink, please? I’m begging you, please…”
“Fine, go ahead.” Tangxi Li relented. If she got too drunk, she’d just carry her away.
After all, she wasn’t drinking.
Just as she was thinking this, a glass of wine was offered to her.
Su Jingle, sitting beside her, wore a gentlemanly smile. “Miss Tangxi, won’t you have a drink?”
“I have to drive Zhou Zhou home later,” Tangxi Li coldly declined.
Chen Zui, who was still puzzling over why any woman would be indifferent to their third brother, noticed Su Jingle hitting on Tangxi Li and immediately shot him a glare.
(You already have a fiancée; what are you doing flirting around?)
Su Jingle, confused by the glare, shot back, (What’s it to you? Are you interested?)
Chen Zui glared again. (Whether I’m interested or not is beside the point, but you definitely can’t!)
Although among their circle, marriages were often arranged, and most ended up with each partner doing their own thing, he had no right to interfere.
But not with Little Rainbow—she was the one Third Brother had his eye on, someone they shouldn’t touch.
Even if Third Brother wasn’t making a move, it didn’t matter. He would step in.
Chen Zui immediately poured a glass of wine and shoved it into the hands of Yong Zhixu, who seemed lost in thought. He frantically signaled with his eyes for him to go offer Tangxi Li a drink.