CHAPTER 267: IF, FOR EXAMPLE, SHEN JING GETS MARRIED AND THE GROOM ISN’T YOU

When have I ever been dishonest? Shen Jing switched the phone to her other hand. "I’ll just drive to pick you up from the airport then."

After a long pause, Zhou Luchen hummed in agreement.

Shen Jing asked with a playful smile, "Where are you in Shanghai?"

"The 82nd floor."

The 82nd Floor Club’s decor had changed styles the year before last, shifting from a black mamba theme to grayscale. Its high-class elegance remained, however, catering exclusively to the extravagant whims of wealthy young scions.

The scent of Bai Qinan still lingered. A few young scions were gathered here to discuss important matters, likely involving business secrets. The incense-brewing master had already departed.

In front of the central, double-arched sofa, Zhou Luchen sat in a relaxed posture. He hung up the phone and shot Chen Yao an indifferent glance.

Chen Yao had been watching Xing Fei’s wedding video: watching her in her wedding dress, watching the architect kneel to slip the wedding ring onto her finger.

"She never once asked if I would marry her."

That girl who loved pink hair had never planned on a future with him anyway.

Zhou Luchen ignored Chen Yao, pushing the laptop towards him. "Stock codes."

Chen Yao entered the six-digit number three times but still got it wrong.

Zhou Luchen snapped the laptop shut with a sharp CLAP and cursed Chen Yao.

Liang Yingning came over to discuss work. She and Chen Yao had only ever been business partners over the years. Neither had married; they had simply become ordinary friends.

Liang Yingning didn’t approach Chen Yao. Instead, she informed Zhou Luchen of the Chen Family’s stock codes.

Looking at the strings of numbers on the laptop, Zhou Luchen had no inclination to discuss them.

Liang Yingning remained silent, leaning against the liquor cabinet alone. For the first time, she felt the urge to admire Shanghai’s nightscape. Despite living here for twenty-seven years, she had never found it particularly captivating.

From birth, those in their circle, heirs to their fathers’ fortunes, could have anything they wanted. They enjoyed all the advantages of a privileged path, their only deprivation being a true grasp of money—the concept of how much was too much or too little. It was laughable, really. Forgetting his own family’s stock codes... Chen Yao must be utterly distraught. She almost wanted to laugh and tell him he deserved it. He treated every girlfriend exceedingly well, loving each deeply, yet he never spoke of marrying any of them. When another man married one of his past loves, he would be heartbroken, acting as if relationships only brought him suffering. Liang Yingning could have died laughing at his antics. Then she looked at Zhou Luchen, lounging on the sofa with a regal, detached air, like a Crown Prince. Liang Yingning felt unqualified to assess him and lowered her gaze.

Liang Yingning asked, "Why did Ajing return to Beijing?"

Zhou Luchen answered casually, "Work."

Liang Yingning murmured an "Oh" and didn’t dare ask Zhou Luchen any more questions.

The 82nd Floor Club wasn’t very crowded tonight. Their discussion hadn’t been serious, and Chen Yao had gotten drunk. The Chen Family didn’t seem to care about his state; they’d probably just let him wallow for a few days.

Unfortunately, Chen Yao was likely muddled. Gazing at the distinguished young master of the Zhou Family opposite him, he sensed an innate nobility, one that seemed to emanate from his very bones.

At that moment, Zhou Luchen slightly lowered his gaze, examining the incense powder the club owner had sent over. He had a bodyguard change the incense.

It was then that Chen Yao said softly to Zhou Luchen, "What if, say, Shen Jing got married, and the groom wasn’t you? Would you be upset?"

Zhou Luchen’s movements paused. He glanced at the empty wine bottles by Chen Yao’s feet, remained silent, and then slightly raised his hand, signaling a hostess to come and clear them away.

He had absolutely no interest in refuting Chen Yao.

The drunken Chen Yao was completely unhinged, speaking recklessly, "What if Shen Jing secretly aborted your child? Would you forgive her?"

Could he really provoke Young Master Zhou? Chen Yao knew deep down he couldn’t afford to, but in his muddled state, he wanted to ask, even if it cost him his life.

One moment, Zhou Luchen was casually undoing a button on his suit jacket; the next, his gaze turned chillingly still as he reached for a wine bottle on the floor.

Chen Yao closed his eyes, bracing himself for the blow, looking like a drunkard ready to meet his end.

Fortunately, Wei Sulin, who was beside him, reacted quickly. He grabbed Zhou Luchen’s arm, his voice trembling. "Don’t... Don’t lower yourself to his level. He’s really drunk. Just yesterday, he was accusing me of cheating. He just can’t stand to see anyone else happy!"

Chen Yao took another swig of alcohol. "Ask him! Does he like Shen Jing or not? If he doesn’t, why did he bring her back? That Joanna of his in New York is perfectly his type. Why bother with Shen Jing then?"

Wei Sulin gritted his teeth and kicked Chen Yao. "Will you shut up?" he hissed. "We’re here to discuss business, not to watch you get wasted!"

Seemingly on the brink of oblivion, Chen Yao slurred, "If Shen Jing doesn’t like him, his end won’t be any better than mine."

Chen Yao fell silent, genuinely terrified now.

With a savage kick, Zhou Luchen sent the dozen or so whisky bottles on the table flying.

It was a vicious kick, sending everything crashing. When the glass shattered on the floor, Liang Yingning, despite her distance, jumped in fright and didn’t dare to meet Zhou Luchen’s eyes.

In that instant, the private room fell silent. No one dared to even breathe too loudly.

This was probably the most violent incident since the 82nd Floor Club had opened.

Zhou Luchen’s leather shoes crunched over the broken glass as he strode out. Wei Sulin quickly shut the laptop and hurried after him.

Despite everything, Chen Yao’s words weren’t entirely wrong. They had come to talk business, but clearly, that wasn’t happening today. Chen Yao was too drunk and incoherent.

Inside the elevator, Wei Sulin pressed the call button. "That’s just Chen Yao for you," he said. "He’s lost it. Lately, he’s been picking fights with everyone close to him. Don’t take it to heart. He means well, wants you to be happy, but his methods are all wrong."

Zhou Luchen remained silent. His bodyguard shot Wei Sulin a look, and Wei Sulin promptly shut up.

Wei Sulin’s own love life, by contrast, had been smooth sailing. He and his wife had liked each other, faced no family opposition, and married when they wanted to. He’d had a rare chance to pursue a genuine love, and it had led straight to the altar.

「Well, Zhou Luchen returned to Beijing the next day.」

Shen Jing had agreed to pick him up, but she ran into traffic and was twenty minutes late.

Zhou Luchen was initially quite irritated, but his mood improved slightly when he realized she was genuinely stuck in traffic.

Amidst the bustling crowd, Zhou Luchen spotted her instantly. A hint of warmth softened his usually deep, cool eyes. Catching her off guard while she was eating some wedding candy, he pulled her into his arms.

It was a forceful embrace, and Shen Jing let him hold her tight.

Travelers hurried past, mostly oblivious to them.

「That night.」

Zhou Luchen took her to a hotel suite. From the moment they stepped into the elevator, he was kissing her, his hand on the nape of her neck.

He didn’t release her even when they exited the elevator. They were so lost in their kiss in the hallway that they fumbled with the key card, unable to get the door open. When Shen Jing realized the security cameras were recording their embrace, she tried to push him away, but he wouldn’t budge. If anything, the risk of exposure seemed to excite him further, and his kisses grew deeper.

Fortunately, a second later, Shen Jing’s key card finally unlocked the hotel room door, and she inwardly sighed in relief.

They kissed their way into the suite, and he kicked the door shut behind them.

BANG—

From the living room to the bedroom, they spent the entire night lost in passion.

「The next morning.」

Secretary Song brought documents up to the suite for him to sign. The President was a globetrotter these days, rarely returning to headquarters for meetings. Whenever a major project decision required his seal and signature, Secretary Song had to personally deliver the documents to him, whether he was at Taihe Middle Court, some golf club, or a hotel.

「When the door to the suite was opened.」

「All the way.」

A man’s suit, a slip dress, black high heels, a Patek Philippe mechanical watch, a white dress shirt...

These items lay scattered in a trail from just inside the door to the sofa in the living room.