Chapter 14

Jiang Yanzhou’s gaze finally settled on Song Zhi’s face, showing no outward signs of disturbance.

He quietly met her eyes, as if trying to discern something from her expression.

He Hanyang noticed the strangeness and asked Song Zhi: “Do you two know each other?”

Song Zhi didn’t deny it: “We do—and we’re quite familiar.”

Her tone was natural, without a trace of concealment.

Jiang Yanzhou smelled the familiar scent of tobacco on her, and his brows furrowed slightly in displeasure.

At the same time, the private room door opened again, and Ji Chuyan stepped out: “You forgot your phone.”

Her tone was casual, as if speaking to an old friend.

Jiang Yanzhou took the phone without saying a word or looking at her, his gaze still fixed on Song Zhi.

After a brief pause, Song Zhi suddenly found the scene somewhat ironic.

They had known each other for so many years—Jiang Yanzhou knew her better than even Song Luo did.

The pampered little girl, though spoiled and difficult at times, could be easily pacified with a little coaxing.

Yet this Jiang Yanzhou, who knew her so well, hadn’t come back to her once after she got angry.

Instead, he went out to dinner with another woman, surrounded by companions, not missing a beat.

She had harbored fantasies about him. Even though Song Luo repeatedly told her that Jiang Yanzhou was cold-blooded to the core and incapable of truly caring for anyone, Song Zhi always believed she was special.

Her extreme arrogance eventually caused her to fall from the cliff edge into the abyss.

His evident indifference made her feel defeated.

To level the playing field, she began deliberately provoking him.

The more hurt she felt, the angrier she became toward him.

After Ji Chuyan handed over the phone, she spotted the two standing in the corridor and was momentarily stunned.

She recognized both of them.

Though Song Zhi wasn’t a major figure in the entertainment industry, her unique personal style had won over countless otaku fans.

Her popularity was high.

As for the other person, there was no need to elaborate—he was a world champion.

Nowadays, the entertainment and esports industries were closely intertwined. Ji Chuyan had seen him a few times at events before.

He rarely spoke and acted aloof toward everyone.

She had heard a bit about the livestream incident earlier—it seemed they really had gotten together.

Song Zhi, fabricating a story out of thin air, kindly advised Ji Chuyan: “Sister, you’d better be careful when judging people. This married man not only got my cousin pregnant but also peeked at my fifty-year-old aunt while she was bathing. He even...”

Her voice choked up dramatically. “Even my uncle wasn’t spared. When caught red-handed, he tried to justify himself by saying he was just admiring male nudity. No matter how rich he is, it doesn’t change the fact that he’s a pervert.”

Her acting skills, when not applied to performances, were impeccable—utterly convincing, without a single flaw.

After hearing her explanation, Ji Chuyan looked at Jiang Yanzhou with a strange glint in her eye.

No wonder he had been so cold earlier—it turned out he had such peculiar tastes...

She did want to find herself a powerful benefactor, but it still had to be based on basic human decency.

Such a morally bankrupt man, no matter how wealthy, was nothing more than an empty shell.

Truly, one can never truly know someone.

It was like biting into an apple and finding half a worm inside.

Ji Chuyan suppressed her disgust and returned to the private room.

Facing her slander and accusations, Jiang Yanzhou didn’t bother to refute them. Instead, he stepped forward, seemingly intending to take her hand: “Song Zhi, let’s talk.”

Before his hand could reach hers, it grasped at empty air.

Without showing any emotion, Song Zhi stepped back slightly: “I don’t think we have anything to discuss.”

Though He Hanyang often appeared half-asleep, he was far smarter than Ji Chuyan. At a glance, he realized Song Zhi had been lying earlier.

He was simply curious about their relationship.

Their interaction felt strange. If they were lovers, why couldn’t he sense the sweetness and affection between them?

Unwilling to see Jiang Yanzhou, Song Zhi shifted her gaze back to He Hanyang: “I’m going back in.”

The latter nodded, asking no further questions.

Song Zhi pushed open the private room door and entered. Inside, a round of drinks had already been consumed.

Someone was offering a toast to Jiang Yin, who politely declined.

In her words, these were people she couldn’t afford to offend. Despite being known as the “Ice Queen” in the industry, she was now forced into retreat under pressure.

Reality was cruel.

Money ruled all.

Song Zhi had only recently learned that Jiang Yin was pregnant—forty-something years old, already considered a high-risk pregnancy.

The doctor strictly advised her to avoid certain foods, let alone alcohol.

No matter how much she explained, the person offering the toast persisted: “What, are you refusing to give me face? I’ll say it straight—I’ll pull the sponsorship for your program if you don’t drink this.”

The importance of advertising sponsorships to a program could directly determine whether it continued to run.

Especially since the program mentioned was relatively new.

Countless staff members had worked tirelessly through sleepless nights to draft proposals—if it all came crashing down because of a single drink, it would be utterly ridiculous.

Jiang Yin hesitated, touching her stomach, and was about to reach for the glass when—

Song Zhi stood up, pulling the chair back. She snatched the glass from his hand and downed it in one gulp.

“I’ll drink it for her.”

The man was clearly stunned: “Didn’t you say you took cephalosporins and can’t drink?”

Song Zhi smiled, her beautiful eyes tinged with mockery: “You’re forcing a pregnant woman to drink, so what does it matter if I drank after taking cephalosporins?”

Her tone remained flirtatiously sweet, but her words cut like a dagger.

Effortlessly, she painted him as a malicious “murderer.”

And there was nothing he could say to refute her.

Song Zhi casually grabbed all the imported liquor bottles on the table: “Since you’re so eager to drink, today I’ll keep you company until you’re satisfied.”

She instructed the waiter to open all the bottles, mixing everything together indiscriminately—whiskey, baijiu, beer.

The mixture turned unexpectedly murky.

Seeing the high-proof liquors combined, the man’s resolve began to waver.

One sip of this concoction, and he’d collapse.

Song Zhi tilted her head: “In my eyes, Mr. Liu has always been a man of great masculinity. Surely you wouldn’t back down so quickly?”

For a man of social standing, nothing mattered more than saving face.

Especially in front of such a young woman.

He refused to believe he couldn’t outdrink her: “Alright, let’s drink.”

He took the glass from Song Zhi’s hand, but halfway through, the burning sensation in his throat became unbearable.

Song Zhi, on the other hand, downed glasses like water, watching him with a gentle smile after each sip.

Unable to lose face, the man gritted his teeth and continued drinking.

Jiang Yin, worried that Song Zhi might get into trouble, pulled her arm and urged her to stop.

Song Zhi softly reassured her: “Don’t worry, I can hold my liquor.”

Moreover, she was feeling incredibly restless.

Only drinking could calm her turbulent mood.

A bottle was quickly emptied. The man raised his hands in surrender, barely able to stand or speak coherently.

“I... I admit defeat.”

He hadn’t actually drunk much—he spilled half of every glass.

Still, he was completely wasted.

Let alone Song Zhi.

Jiang Yin, worried, supported Song Zhi: “Are you alright?”

She shook her head: “I’m fine.”

As soon as she spoke, she stumbled.

Jiang Yin, unable to leave her like this, informed the others: “She’s drunk, I’ll take her home first.”

Then, carefully supporting Song Zhi, she exited the room.

The attentive waiter approached and opened the door for them.

The quiet corridor now held a figure leaning against the wall. As the door opened, his gaze naturally fell upon them.

The private room’s soundproofing was excellent—no noise escaped, making it impossible to hear what had happened inside.

When Jiang Yanzhou saw Song Zhi, thoroughly intoxicated, his expression darkened instantly: “What’s going on?”

Jiang Yin, experienced in reading people, immediately sensed his extraordinary status.

Just as she wondered about his relationship with Song Zhi, he had already pulled Song Zhi into his arms.

He reached out to check her forehead: “Why did you drink so much?”

Song Zhi swayed unsteadily but still managed to slap him squarely across the face: “Mind your own damn business!”

The sharp sound left Jiang Yin stunned for a long moment.

Jiang Yanzhou merely tilted his head slightly, showing no reaction. He continued to carefully support Song Zhi, preventing her from falling.

Even as the left side of his face began to swell slightly, he showed no anger.

To reassure Jiang Yin, he handed her a business card: “I’m Song Zhi’s boyfriend. Thank you for taking care of her—I’ll take her home.”

Jiang Yin accepted the card and glanced down.

Upon seeing the name and current occupation, her mouth dropped open in shock.

Jiang... Jiang Yanzhou???

He was Song Zhi’s boyfriend??????

Experienced as she was in navigating the tumultuous waters of high society, Jiang Yin felt as though a bombshell had just exploded in her face.

By the time she recovered, Jiang Yanzhou had already carried Song Zhi out of sight.

When drunk, Song Zhi tended to act wild—a trait she shared with her brother, likely a family inheritance.

Fearing she might wander off, Jiang Yanzhou locked the car doors after getting in.

Having consumed alcohol, he couldn’t drive.

So he called Zhang Yi to come pick them up.

Song Zhi kept causing a fuss, kicking and hitting him: “Let me out! I don’t want to stay in here!”

Jiang Yanzhou pulled her into his lap, leaned forward slightly, and removed her shoes.

Song Zhi didn’t know how much she had drunk—her body reeked of alcohol.

Jiang Yanzhou retrieved a bottle of water from the glove compartment, unscrewed the cap, and handed it to her: “Drink some water.”

Song Zhi frowned, pushing his hand away: “Who are you? Why are you holding me?”

Jiang Yanzhou paused thoughtfully: “I’m your boyfriend.”

Song Zhi tilted her head, stunned for a few seconds before breaking into a laugh: “If you want to be my boyfriend, you’ll have to queue up and get a number.”

With that, she playfully winked at him.

The heat from the alcohol seemed to shift elsewhere. Jiang Yanzhou’s hand around her waist tightened, his breathing growing heavier.

He called her name, his voice unusually hoarse: “Zhi Zhi.”

Song Zhi lifted her gaze, as if not recognizing him: “Are you talking to me?”

Jiang Yanzhou said nothing, merely gazing at her quietly.

In those slender, almond-shaped eyes, the drunken haze formed a vast spiderweb.

Blocking all emotions behind it.

Everything Song Zhi saw was doubled. She leaned closer to examine him.

“Not bad-looking.” Dissatisfied with just looking, she reached out to touch his face—it felt nice.

She swayed precariously, barely able to sit steadily, nearly falling several times.

Fortunately, Jiang Yanzhou’s hand hovered protectively beside her.

Song Zhi rarely got drunk, given her tolerance. The last time was during her second year of high school.

That was also the first time Jiang Yanzhou witnessed her drunken antics.

Far from her usual spoiled demeanor, she became fierce and domineering.

She even mistook Jiang Yanzhou for a gigolo, throwing her wallet at his face and declaring she’d take care of him.

The wallet fell to the ground, spilling open.

Jiang Yanzhou bent down to pick it up, counting the sparse bills inside.

Song Luo had mentioned that a few days ago, she maxed out her credit card shopping, prompting her father to cut off all her cards, leaving her with only five hundred yuan a month for living expenses.

That night, before sending her home, Jiang Yanzhou stopped at a nearby ATM to withdraw some cash and slipped it into her wallet.

________________________________________

Seeing he didn’t respond, Song Zhi grew upset: “I’m talking to you, why aren’t you answering? Do you want me to cancel your appointment?”

Jiang Yanzhou, fearing she might feel stifled, opened the sunroof.

The night breeze was cool, so he took off his coat and draped it over her.

Song Zhi fidgeted restlessly, resisting his jacket: “I haven’t paid yet—why are you undressing? Are you letting me freeload?”

Jiang Yanzhou paused briefly before helping her put on the coat: “Mm.”

Song Zhi fluttered her eyelashes slightly, pinching his cheek: “Then you must have some special skills, right? Sister’s standards are very high.”

Her fingertips felt soft.

Whether drunk or sober, the one thing that hadn’t changed was her radiant boldness.

Like a thorny rose—pricking, yet alluring.

Jiang Yanzhou’s gaze lingered on the smile at the corner of her lips, the heat in his body growing more intense.

No amount of alcohol could mask her intoxicating fragrance.

It was as if he had swallowed a handful of sand scorched under the blazing sun—he suddenly felt unbearably thirsty.

And Song Zhi was like a refreshing spring.

He held her close, burying his face in the sweet, soft curve of her neck: “As for my special skills, haven’t you already experienced them?”

His hands fumbled clumsily with her clothes, attempting to initiate a zero-distance encounter right there in the car.

But Song Zhi stopped moving.

When her steady breathing reached his ears, he gradually ceased his actions.

Suppressing the fire rising in his abdomen, he cradled her gently, murmuring softly: “Sleep. You’ll feel better once you’re asleep.”

When Zhang Yi arrived, Jiang Yanzhou was gently massaging the temples of the sleeping figure in his arms.

Seeing him approach, Jiang Yanzhou lowered his voice: “Close the door quietly.”

Zhang Yi nodded, carefully getting into the car, wary of waking Song Zhi.

The journey back would take less than an hour.

In her sleep, Song Zhi tugged uncomfortably at Jiang Yanzhou’s sleeve, her breathing shallow, her body chillingly cold.

“Zhouzhou, I feel awful. I can’t breathe.”

Her voice was weak, clutching his sleeve tightly.

Her face was pale, her eyes bloodshot and alarming.