Watching the three men leave the bar, Pei Huaijin withdrew his gaze and looked down at the woman beside him.
She leaned against him, breathing rapidly, her fingers clutching his sleeve so tightly that her knuckles turned white. She lifted her head, wanting to say something, but her lips moved, only letting out a vague syllable.
Then her eyes began to glaze over, and her whole body started to slump.
Pei Huaijin wrapped an arm around her waist, steadying her, and asked softly, “Are you okay?”
She leaned limply against his chest, already too drunk to keep her eyes open.
He stood still for two seconds.
Then he made what seemed like the second ill-advised decision of the night.
“Let’s go,” he said, half-supporting, half-carrying her as he walked out. “Where do you live? I’ll take you home.”
Shen Qingyu’s mind was far from clear at the moment. She struggled to open her eyes, barely managing to look at this man.
He had high brow bones, deep-set eyes, a straight nose, and thin lips pressed slightly together—he looked like the kind of person who wasn’t easy to approach.
He wore a black overcoat with a dark gray suit underneath, his tie impeccably knotted, completely out of place in this chaotic bar.
“Where do you live?” he asked again when she didn’t respond. “I’ll take you home.”
Shen Qingyu stared at him for two seconds before suddenly letting out a laugh.
“Who are you?” she said, her tongue slightly slurred. “Why should I tell you where I live?”
Pei Huaijin was taken aback for a moment, then let out a cold laugh. “Then where do you plan to go?”
Shen Qingyu thought about it but couldn’t come up with an answer.
“I’ll take you to a hotel,” Pei Huaijin decided, helping her walk out.
A Bentley Mulsanne was parked at the entrance of the bar, with the driver waiting in the driver’s seat.
Shen Qingyu was ushered into the back seat, and the man got in from the other side, sitting beside her. The car was warm, with a faint scent of leather and cedar.
She leaned against the seat, tilting her head to look at him.
“What did you say to those people earlier?” she asked. “Why did they just leave like that?”
“Nothing,” Pei Huaijin replied flatly. “You don’t need to know.”
Shen Qingyu was taken aback for a moment before pursing her lips.
“Hmph, fine, don’t tell me then.”
Pei Huaijin glanced at her indifferently, as if looking at a misbehaving child.
The car stopped in front of a hotel. Pei Huaijin got out, helped her out, and said to the driver, “Wait here,” before escorting her into the lobby.
“A single room,” he said to the front desk.
Shen Qingyu leaned to one side, watching him check in.
Once the formalities were completed, Pei Huaijin handed her the room key. “Go upstairs and get a good night’s sleep. Go home on your own when you wake up tomorrow.”
Shen Qingyu took the key but didn’t move. “What about you?”
“I’m leaving,” he said, turning to walk away without any further words.
Watching his retreating figure, a sudden impulse surged within Shen Qingyu.
—Tonight, she had originally intended to let loose.
—Tonight, she had originally intended not to be the good girl anymore.
She took two steps forward, reaching out to grab his sleeve.
Pei Huaijin turned around.
“Handsome,” she said, looking up at him. The alcohol she had consumed at the bar was now boiling in her veins, making her say things she would never normally utter. “You brought me here to check in. Aren’t you coming upstairs with me?”
Pei Huaijin’s brow twitched slightly.
“You’re drunk,” he said, his voice still calm and indifferent. “I didn’t know where you lived, so I brought you to a hotel. That’s all.”
“Oh~” Shen Qingyu nodded, then looked up into his eyes. “Then I’m inviting you to come up with me now. Will you go?”
Pei Huaijin’s expression finally shifted a little.
Not surprise, nor interest—more like… resignation.
“Please have some self-respect,” he said.
Shen Qingyu was taken aback for a moment, then laughed.
“Stop pretending,” she said, releasing his sleeve and taking a step back. She tilted her head to look at him. “You brought me to a hotel—isn’t it because you want to sleep with me?”
Pei Huaijin didn’t speak.
“Or maybe—” she deliberately drew out the last syllable, her gaze sliding down from his face, “you can’t?”
Pei Huaijin’s eyes darkened for an instant.
Shen Qingyu immediately straightened up and, right in front of him, took off the cashmere cardigan she was wearing and threw it on the floor.
Underneath was a white silk camisole. Under the hotel lobby lights, the thin layer of fabric hid nothing.
“My figure is just fine,” she said, taking a step forward until she was right up against him, looking up at him. “Sleeping with me—you won’t lose out.”
Tonight, she didn’t want to be the good girl.
Tonight, she wanted to do something that wasn’t like her.
Before the arranged marriage, she’d indulge just once—as if drawing a period at the end of twenty-six years of following the rules.
She reached out to tug at his tie.
Pei Huaijin didn’t move.
She loosened his tie, then went to undo the buttons of his suit jacket. When her fingers brushed against his shirt, he suddenly raised his hand and grasped her wrist.
His palm was burning hot.
Shen Qingyu looked up and met his eyes.
Those eyes were deep, like the sea at midnight—calm on the surface, but something turbulent churning beneath.
“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice a little lower, a little huskier, but still carrying that same detached tone.
Shen Qingyu looked at him, and her heart suddenly skipped a beat.
But she didn’t back down.
“I’m sure.”
Shen Qingyu didn’t know how she managed to say that “I’m sure.”
The alcohol was still burning in her veins, making her head fuzzy, making her dare to say anything, dare to do anything.
Pei Huaijin looked at her for a long time—so long that Shen Qingyu thought he would leave her there.
Then he moved.
He released her wrist and took a step back.
Shen Qingyu’s heart sank—he really was going to leave.
But before she could even feel disappointed, she saw him bend down.
He picked up the cashmere cardigan from the floor, shook it out, then draped it over her shoulders. The movement was gentle, as if casual, yet carrying a kind of patience she couldn’t quite understand.
“Put it on,” he said.
Shen Qingyu was stunned. “Huh?”
“Aren’t you cold?” he said, his tone still that same detached one.
Shen Qingyu lowered her head to pull the cardigan tighter around herself, then looked up at him.
He had already turned and walked toward the front desk.
“Please change the single room from earlier,” he said to the front desk clerk, his voice not loud but his words clear, “to a king bed room, for two people.”
The blonde girl at the front desk was taken aback for a moment. Her gaze went past him, landing on Shen Qingyu, then returned to him, a knowing smile spreading across her face.
“Of course, sir. Please wait a moment.”