CHAPTER 253: ZHOU GONGZI CLEVERLY WITHDRAWS_1

It was still Yuting Mountain. Shen Jing hadn’t arrived particularly late. She was seldom this happy. On the last day of her annual leave, she couldn’t fall asleep. She had no idea why Cheng Jinchuan happened to be in the same private room. Naturally, Shen Jing stayed away from him, wishing she could stay further away.

Cheng Jinchuan, however, hardly looked at her. Instead, he drunkenly wrapped his arms around his new girlfriend, provocatively staring at Shen Jing. That was the desire to win after a man can’t get what he wants.

Shen Jing couldn’t be bothered to look or care, focusing instead on her friends’ gossip. She turned her head, entered a cubicle to wash her hands and apply lipstick.

As she closed the door, she suddenly heard a loud noise. CRASH! BANG! It seemed like a bottle had shattered.

But no one spoke a word. It felt like the King of Hell had come to collect a soul. Shen Jing really felt that way. She pressed her ear to the door, but then all was quiet.

Curiosity forced her to open the door, and the scene before her eyes frightened her. The lights in the private room were dim and murky. Zhou Luchen’s fingers violently gripped Cheng Jinchuan’s collar, pinning him to the corner of the wall. Zhou Luchen loomed over him, but Cheng Jinchuan, though physically weaker, refused to submit.

On Zhou Luchen, his white shirt was stretched tight by the force of his grip, buttons clinging for dear life to his bulging muscles. Yet, a pair of silver-rimmed glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. Despite engaging in such fierce actions, his white shirt, expanding chest, and silver-rimmed glasses somehow exuded a dichotomous sense of abstinence. This left Shen Jing mesmerized.

Meanwhile, Zhuang Ming stood aside like a door god. This matter involved his elder brother. Plus, given his foul mood tonight from being unable to find his lighter, Zhuang Ming was naturally irritated and didn’t intervene personally. How far could this go? The man surnamed Cheng was too arrogant. Young Master Cheng’s temper wouldn’t change so easily, not even if he saw his own coffin.

Only a few seconds passed.

Zhou Luchen clenched Cheng Jinchuan’s collar, his tone utterly contemptuous. "Does it hurt?"

His thick fist lifted, veins bulging taut on the back of his hand. Unlike before, wearing glasses, he lost all semblance of a refined gentleman.

"Zhou Luchen!" Shen Jing shouted.

At her cry, Zhou Luchen paused mid-action. He glanced sideways, his gaze slightly shifting, and his long fingers unconsciously, docilely loosened Cheng Jinchuan’s collar.

Zhuang Ming took a few steps back. It felt as though the noble young master, always at the pinnacle of power, now resembled a devout believer.

Shen Jing stood still, looking at him calmly. His eyes were obscured by the reflective lenses; their diffused glare removed any hint of flirtation, leaving his handsome features chillingly cold.

She moved towards the man’s clenched fist. "Is your hand bleeding?"

Shen Jing, of course, knew about Cheng Jinchuan’s deliberate tailgating incident. Encountering each other at Yuting, holding old grudges, both were scorekeepers. Injuries aside, neither would tolerate their families being touched.

Zhuang Ming eyed Cheng Jinchuan coldly. "Let’s go."

The onlookers in the private room now truly believed the rumors that Shen Jing had been with the Zhou family’s second son. Tonight, it was confirmed.

Very soon, the private room was emptied. The door was shut tightly from the outside, leaving only the two of them.

Zhou Luchen sat down on the sofa, crossing his long legs and looking up at Shen Jing through his glasses. The scent of pear perfume, sheer black stockings, her makeup bewitching.

His tone was still icy. "So, your car ran out of gas."

"I came in the car you gave me. Consider it a test drive. The 16-cylinder engine isn’t bad."

Seriously, she had driven that new car. She hadn’t gone to the airport but had come out to play and spend the night.

She leaned against the wall, a lipstick in her hand. She languidly snapped the cap closed and tossed it into the trash can.

Fine, heartless and ungrateful, Zhou Luchen thought.

He withdrew his gaze indifferently, barely adjusting his glasses with his fingertips. "Got the leisure to come here and hook a rich man, have we?"

Shen Jing smiled. "Are you jealous?"

The men here were her friends’ boyfriends. Who even knew who belonged to whom? And what did it have to do with her?

Zhou Luchen still wore his usual unapproachable expression. "So, who did you manage to hook?"

"Naturally, I hooked the second young master of the Zhou family," she replied.

She was always so clever at currying favor, so good at pouting and acting spoiled. She had always been a vixen who knew how to defuse his temper with coquettish charm.

In a low voice, he said, "Come here."

Shen Jing approached slowly, teetering on her high heels. The clutter on the floor naturally slowed her down. Zhou Luchen’s eyes narrowed, his gaze firmly fixed on her. The slower Shen Jing moved, the heavier Zhou Luchen’s stare became.

He had always felt that what he’d given her was merely compensation for their intimacy, but he was clearly someone who expected a return on his investments. He resented that she thought of seeking attention from other men after all he had provided. Perhaps from the very beginning, after their breakup three years ago, if they had decided to cut all ties, he wouldn’t have become obsessed with the thought of ’having her once more.’ The woman by his side definitely wouldn’t have been Shen Jing.

He stretched out an arm, pulled Shen Jing into his embrace, and took off his glasses. Then, he cupped her face, lowered his head, and without a word, closed his eyes and kissed her bewildered lips.

Shen Jing dodged, only to be expertly pulled back by him. His kiss was a punishment.

In the very center of the sofa, under the dim, flickering light, the scent of alcohol mingled with the cloying sweetness of her pear perfume. The more she withheld, the more she resisted, the more Zhou Luchen wanted to kiss her.

His broad, sculpted palms pressed down on her sheer stockings, fingertips grazing across the fabric. The next second, he tore them with a rip. Wicked to the bone.

Thinking of the injury on his hand, Shen Jing’s shoulders instantly tensed. Only then did Zhou Luchen, finally satisfied, release her lips. Forehead to forehead, his mood hadn’t cleared in the slightest.

"I bought them, so only I should get to see them," he said.

Shen Jing’s eyes, bright and clear as the moon, curved at the corners. "Wishful thinking. I’ll wear what I like."

Zhou Luchen’s palm enveloped her chin. Indeed, her face was so small he could easily control it with one hand.

"Such audacity, actually coming out here to hook men."

Shen Jing was forced to look up, catching a glimpse of his bloodshot eyes. Young Master Zhou had been drinking; that was certain. He’d been unwilling to pick him up from the airport, and Zhou Luchen had restrained himself, thinking Shen Jing was just being playful. Instead, she had time to come out, have fun, and be surrounded by men. Zhou Luchen’s already irritable mood, as if by some cruel twist of fate, went from bad to worse.

"How much did you drink?" she asked.

He didn’t answer. Zhou Luchen had downed a bottle of whiskey plus some red wine; how could one even keep count? She too had drunk a few glasses of champagne and was slightly tipsy.

Looking at Zhou Luchen, his expression remained dark, and he stayed silent.

"Let me see your hand. How badly is it hurt?" Shen Jing reached for his hand.

He didn’t move.

The shattered glass hadn’t cut him too deeply, but the back of his hand, originally strong and defined, now sported a fine trail of blood. Not serious.

Shen Jing had an adhesive bandage in her bag. She squatted beside his thigh, lowered her head, and carefully cleaned the wound on the back of his hand. Her expression was a mixture of worry and tenderness. This sight caused a complex surge of emotions to swirl in the depths of Zhou Luchen’s eyes.

She must still have a place for him in her heart. She just wouldn’t admit it, wouldn’t come back to him, and wouldn’t forgive him.

"The Cheng family is pretty much finished. At best, they can only engage in some minor business dealings now. He despises your elder brother’s ruthless tactics. If he still can’t get over it by tomorrow, he’ll just end up confronting your brother to vent his frustrations. Who’s to blame? It’s their own Cheng family for being too ostentatious. You shouldn’t bother holding a grudge against him either," she said, her voice soft.

Hearing her ramble on, Zhou Luchen replied faintly, "I’m in a bad mood."

Shen Jing asked, "Why?"

"Can’t find my lighter," he answered hoarsely.

So he came looking for Cheng Jinchuan to borrow one? Shen Jing chuckled. "Are you blaming me for not picking you up?"

"Alright. I have matches." Shen Jing rummaged through her bag and offered them to him. "Here, you can borrow these."

Zhou Luchen didn’t take them. He leaned back on the sofa, coolly avoiding her. "Shen Jing, have you been smoking behind my back again?"

His tone was accusatory.

Shen Jing crossed her arms and laughed freely. "That’s none of your business."

To be fair, her matches were for lighting scented candles. It had been a long time since she’d last touched nicotine. She wasn’t foolish enough to ruin her health with it.