SY - 1

The wind howled fiercely, and a bolt of lightning tore through the night sky. A storm with thunder but no rain wasn’t uncommon in Beicheng.

Changfeng Street, the most bustling avenue in Beicheng, epitomized decadence and excess.

A playground for the rich and a paradise for the poor.

Song Zhi had just left the Golden River Awards ceremony and was heading to her next engagement.

Tang Xiaoyan was hosting a birthday celebration for her boyfriend at “Outrageous,” an upscale club.

In the VVIP lounge, aside from Tang Xiaoyan and her boyfriend, there were other familiar faces. Some names escaped memory, but their identities were unmistakable.

Tang Xiaoyan finally detached herself from her boyfriend’s embrace when she spotted Song Zhi. She patted the spot reserved for her: “Big star, we’ve been waiting for you for half an hour.”

The attentive bartender nearby took Song Zhi’s bag and placed it carefully. After thanking him, Song Zhi sat down beside Tang Xiaoyan: “The interview took longer than expected.”

A blatant sneer echoed from the side: “That award must have cost a pretty penny. Jiang Yanzhou sure knows how to splurge.”

If one were to ask why Xu Lalan despised Song Zhi so much, the name Jiang Yanzhou would be the root of all evil.

An aristocratic family known for its ruthlessness, the Jiang clan symbolized estrangement and bloodless power struggles—far more terrifying than open warfare.

As the eldest grandson, Jiang Yanzhou surpassed his grandfather in cold-heartedness.

Outwardly gentle and humble, he was, in truth, ruthless and merciless—a master of deception.

Yet despite his notorious reputation, the unmarried daughters of wealthy families and high-society ladies still vied desperately for a place by his side.

That was until Song Zhi appeared, shattering those fantasies.

Accustomed to solitude, Jiang Yanzhou suddenly had a woman by his side.

Her skin was as white as snow, her hair as black as ink, and her waist so slender it seemed one hand could encircle it.

She exuded an innocent charm mixed with a hint of allure, perfectly balanced and captivating.

Behind closed doors, high society whispered that Song Zhi’s family worshipped a fox spirit, explaining why the usually dispassionate Jiang Yanzhou was so bewitched.

The higher one’s status, the more superstitious they tended to be.

With her seemingly pure and innocent face, Song Zhi smiled innocently: “Even placentas talk now?”

Xu Lalan failed to grasp the hidden meaning behind her words and assumed she was calling her a placenta, retorting angrily: “You look more like a placenta!”

“Enough,” Tang Xiaoyan interjected diplomatically. “For my sake, let’s stop this.”

Xu Lalan snorted disdainfully: “Who wants to argue with her? She’s low-class—doesn’t even qualify to polish my shoes.”

The dim lighting in the bar cast shadows on the scattered glasses on the glass coffee table.

Song Zhi asked mockingly: “I heard last month on your birthday, your father gave you a yacht?”

Eager to shift focus to her favorite topic, Xu Lalan momentarily set aside her feud with Song Zhi, lifted her chin arrogantly: “The ‘Ai Lan’ will be ready for sea voyages next week. I plan to host a party on it. You’re all welcome to join.”

The socialites exchanged glances with subtle sneers, clearly unimpressed by her boasting.

One remarked sarcastically: “Your yacht isn’t even as big as my bathroom. It probably can’t accommodate all of us.”

Someone chuckled softly: “Wasn’t it thrown in as a bonus with some land purchase? Looks like the land went to your cheap older sister.”

Everyone knew about Xu Lalan’s father bringing home an illegitimate daughter recently, several years older than her. The legitimate wife had thrown a fit, even returning to her maiden home.

This incident had become a laughingstock within high society.

It was rumored that Xu family’s fortune might be destined for the mistress.

Mentioning this infuriated Xu Lalan, making her tone sharper: “You haven’t sorted out your own messes yet, and you still have the nerve to meddle in mine? How quickly did you settle your brother’s hit-and-run last week? Next time, I can lend you my yacht; racing boats should be less likely to hit people.”

Struck where it hurt, the other retaliated coldly: “A third-hand yacht isn’t something you flaunt around.”

“Oh, so now you’re picky about weapons when hitting people?”

“I don’t need to choose a weapon to kill your mother.”

“Say that again if you dare!”

“I don’t need to choose a weapon to kill your mother.”

Fuming, Xu Lalan’s face contorted: “You... say that again if you dare!”

“Are you deaf? I said I don’t need to choose a weapon to kill your mother. If you still can’t hear me, I’ll record it for you to use as your phone ringtone so you can listen to it every day.”

This back-and-forth verbal sparring demonstrated that these socialites were quite fair-minded, adhering to turn-based arguments without interrupting each other.

When dragging family into insults, blocking all avenues of response before they speak is crucial unless you want both parents alive.

Put simply, it’s like a street fight.

Such scenes were commonplace for Song Zhi.

She lounged lazily on the sofa, leaning back with her long dress swaying over her legs, her high heels precariously dangling off her delicate ankles.

She examined her freshly done nails, adorned with smoky blue polish and diamonds gifted by one of Jiang Yanzhou’s business partners—a belated Spring Festival gift, though everyone knew the true intent behind it.

Accepting bribes nonchalantly, Song Zhi sighed inwardly. This person was still too naive to think Jiang Yanzhou, a seasoned businessman, would heed the advice of a casual lover.

The “war” ended at some indeterminate point, perhaps settling during Song Zhi’s reminiscing or merely pausing for halftime.

The conversation shifted from yachts to luxury jewelry.

Noticing the diamonds on Song Zhi’s nails, Xu Lalan sneered: “Putting real diamonds on your nails? Climbing the social ladder has made you extravagant.”

Always eager for another fight, Xu Lalan sought to ignite another round immediately after the last.

Song Zhi asked the bartender for soda, sipping cautiously to control her sugar intake.

Like any woman, she loved sparkling things, but unlike hoarding them in boxes, she preferred to maximize their beauty.

She sighed dramatically: “Alas, my darling spoils me too much. Sometimes I feel so burdened.”

Xu Lalan scoffed: “What burdens could you possibly have?”

Song Zhi extended her fingers coyly: “The diamonds are so heavy, I can barely lift my hand~”

Xu Lalan: ...

She wished she could ram her yacht into this provocative woman right then and there. Calling her fat only made her puff up more.

________________________________________

Once women’s battles begin, they rarely end quickly, causing everyone to forget the true star of the evening.

The young man in the crisp white shirt stood up, finally drawing everyone’s attention back to him.

His phone screen was still lit, the interface paused on the recently ended call.

He finally spoke his first words since arriving: “Xiaoyan, Shanshan said she’s arrived. I’ll go pick her up.”

He had been so quiet that Song Zhi had practically forgotten he was there.

She’d heard he was Tang Xiaoyan’s classmate, from a fairly ordinary family background—a fact evident from his simple attire.

A white shirt and jeans—plain but clean.

Tang Xiaoyan handed him a VIP card. “Just show this to the security when you come back in.”

This bar didn’t welcome just any customer.

After he left, Song Zhi asked curiously, “Who’s Shanshan?”

Tang Xiaoyan uncrossed her legs, leaned forward, and grabbed a sugar orange from the table. “His sister.”

“Biological sister?”

“No.” Tang Xiaoyan seemed to struggle for a moment before clarifying, “She’s the neighbor girl he grew up with. Her name is Lin Shanshan.”

That relationship carried an air of scandal.

Not long after, Jiang Xunbai returned leading a girl in a white dress. She had fair skin and a slender figure—the type that easily stirred protective instincts in men.

In her hands, she held a cake. Perhaps overwhelmed by the crowd, she shyly hid behind Jiang Xunbai.

He smiled gently, taking her wrist in a tender gesture, and led her to Tang Xiaoyan. “This is Xiaoyan.”

The girl timidly greeted her. “Hello.”

She appeared reserved, sitting quietly without joining their conversation, occasionally whispering something to Jiang Xunbai.

The music in the bar was loud, and her voice was soft, so Jiang Xunbai had to lean close to her lips to catch what she was saying.

Their posture was intimate, as if they were the couple.

Tang Xiaoyan didn’t seem to mind, perhaps reassured by the brother-sister dynamic. She told Song Zhi, “I heard she’s in the same line of work as you.”

Song Zhi raised her eyelashes slightly. “Oh? She seems unfamiliar.”

“She’s probably an 18th-tier celebrity, but I think she’s quite pretty. Don’t you think her eyes look a bit like yours?”

Song Zhi instinctively touched the corner of her eye. “Do they?”

Tang Xiaoyan looked more closely. “They really do. You both have those pitiful deer-like eyes that men adore.”

The VIP lounge had its own bartender. Song Zhi took a sip of the cocktail she’d just ordered, the salt on the rim making her squint slightly.

From where she sat, Lin Shanshan’s lips were pressed tight, her eyes downcast. Her doe-like eyes shimmered with unshed tears, as though she’d suffered some great injustice. Jiang Xunbai was busy trying to comfort her.

It seemed she wasn’t just good at charming men—she also had Tang Xiaoyan’s man wrapped around her finger.

Song Zhi was about to warn Tang Xiaoyan to be cautious when Jiang Xunbai stood up, his expression troubled. “Xiaoyan, Shanshan’s never been to a bar before. She’s not comfortable here. Maybe we should call it a night—I’ll take her home.”

Tang Xiaoyan had spent over a month preparing for Jiang Xunbai’s birthday celebration—more effort than she’d ever put into herself—and the main event hadn’t even happened yet. She tried to persuade him to stay.

“I wasn’t comfortable my first time at a bar either, but you get used to it if you stay a little longer.”

Jiang Xunbai hesitated. “But...”

He knew how much Tang Xiaoyan had prepared for his birthday today. He didn’t have many friends, and she’d gone out of her way to invite her own friends to make it lively.

The “little white rabbit” beside him seemed to sense his wavering. Tugging at his sleeve, her voice quivered with tears threatening to spill. “Big Brother Xunbai, if Mom finds out I’ve been to a place like this, she’ll scold me!”

Xu Lanlan, overhearing this, sneered. “What kind of white lotus are you? You’re not a kid anymore—why can’t you come to a bar? Where do you usually hang out, fighting kids for swings at the park?”

Her earlier anger hadn’t dissipated, and now it burst forth, her tone sharp and biting.

Lin Shanshan froze, her eyes instantly welling up with tears.

Jiang Xunbai rushed to comfort her and, unusually, snapped at Tang Xiaoyan. “Your friend really needs to watch her mouth.”

Tang Xiaoyan apologized. “She speaks without thinking—I’ll apologize to your sister on her behalf. Besides, since she’s already here, staying a little longer shouldn’t be a problem. I was planning to show you...”

But Jiang Xunbai cut her off with a firm statement: “She’s different from you all. She never comes to places like this.” His words choked Tang Xiaoyan’s response in her throat.

Tang Xiaoyan was clearly stunned, taking a long moment to process what had just happened.

The “little white rabbit” stepped forward, lips pressed tightly together, feigning remorse. “Sister Xiaoyan, Big Brother Xunbai didn’t mean it like that. He’s just worried about me and spoke out of concern. Please don’t fight because of me.”

The moment she opened her mouth, Song Zhi recognized the act.

An old hand at this game, she’d spent three years playing the innocent white lotus around Jiang Yanzhou, using every trick in the book. These tactics were ones Song Zhi had long since mastered.

By rights, Lin Shanshan should call her “Grandmaster.”

Lin Shanshan picked up her pink CK bag from the sofa and looked at Jiang Xunbai. “You stay here with Sister Xiaoyan. I’ll go home by myself.”

With that, she wiped her tears and walked toward the exit. Jiang Xunbai hesitated, torn between her and Tang Xiaoyan. After a brief internal struggle, he made his choice.

He apologized to Tang Xiaoyan. “I’m sorry, but I can’t leave her like this—I don’t feel right about it.”

Then he chased after her.

The group exchanged glances. They were all spoiled second-generation rich kids, accustomed to mocking whatever displeased them outright. None of them had ever witnessed such drama. They were undeniably shaken.

Xu Lanlan attempted to analyze the situation. “I think their next step will be to use comforting as an excuse to check into a hotel room.”

Tang Xiaoyan, furious, shot back, “Fuck you. If they dare rent a room, I’ll cut his dick off and make stew out of it.”

Changfeng Street was prime real estate. The ground floor housed the bar, while the upper floors were privately owned.

As for who the owner was, it remained an unsolved mystery.

When wealthy people wanted to stay low-key, they ensured no traces could be found.

The dance floor was alive with energy, the lights dimming in sync with the atmosphere.

Just then, someone descended the stairs. Leading the group was a tall, impeccably dressed man exuding an overwhelming presence. His tailored high-end suit fit him perfectly, commanding attention.

Four or five similarly suited men followed respectfully behind him.

Busy wiping her tears, Lin Shanshan failed to notice her surroundings and collided with a passing bartender. The red wine on the tray spilled directly onto the man.

Panicking, she hastily pulled out a tissue to wipe his clothes. “S-Sorry.”

One touch told her the fabric was expensive. Though her family wasn’t wealthy, years in the entertainment industry had taught her enough to recognize luxury.

Custom-made, one-of-a-kind—money couldn’t buy another.

Biting her lip hard, trembling whether from fear or nervousness, her voice quivered with tears. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you.”

Her tears were perfectly controlled—not enough to ruin her makeup but just enough to tug at a man’s heartstrings.

Then, she cautiously lifted her gaze, meeting his indifferent stare before quickly lowering her head again.

Like a frightened little white rabbit.

Though the lighting was dim, it was bright enough for her to see the man before her.

His bone structure was flawless, sharp and dangerous like a cold blade.

The shadow of his lashes fell over his eyes, reminiscent of a dark pool untouched by sunlight—cold enough to freeze over.

A faint scent of alcohol lingered on him, likely from the spilled red wine.

His demeanor was arrogant and noble, unmistakably signaling his distinguished background.

Lin Shanshan had agreed to come tonight hoping to rub shoulders with the elite in such a high-end venue, maybe even meet a quality man.

Instead, she found herself surrounded by wealthy heiresses far prettier and more sophisticated than her. Feeling overshadowed, she made up an excuse to leave.

And now, fate had seemingly blessed her.

“I’m truly sorry. I... had something on my mind earlier and wasn’t paying attention,” she explained, her voice trembling.

Taking a deep breath, she tried to appear resilient despite her tears, which continued to fall uncontrollably. “If this upset you, you can splash me back—it’s only fair.”

Her tissue, soaked through, disintegrated. She grabbed another, intentionally brushing her hand against his as she reached up.

Finally, a flicker of emotion crossed the man’s otherwise stoic face—pure disgust.

He pulled out a handkerchief from his pants pocket, carefully wiping the spot where her hand had touched.

As if something vile had contaminated him.

At the same time, one of the burly bodyguards standing menacingly behind him rolled up his sleeves, stepped forward without a word, and grabbed Lin Shanshan by the collar, tossing her out of the bar like trash.

Thrown out...

Out...

Gone...

...

...

In the VIP lounge, the group of wealthy heirs who had silently watched the scene fell into an eerie silence.

The strange tension lingered beneath the pulsating music.

The man removed his wine-stained jacket and tossed it into the trash. His shirt, now wet, clung to his body, revealing faint outlines of his abdominal muscles.

Someone beside him opened the sliding door, waiting obediently.

As he exited, his gaze swept over the lounge indifferently.

Only when his figure disappeared entirely did the silent room erupt with voices. “Damn, that felt good.”

“That country bumpkin must’ve watched too many idol dramas, thinking she’d stumble into romance at a high-end venue.”

“But doesn’t that guy look familiar?”

“Yeah, maybe. It was too dark to see clearly, but he seemed handsome—those long legs, damn.”

Song Zhi sat quietly, her calm demeanor masking her rising panic. Cold sweat trickled down her back.

Isn’t Jiang Yanzhou supposed to return in two months? Why is he here today??