CHAPTER 180: CHAPTER 40: THE GENTLEMAN REDUCED TO COACHMAN

There was an unpleasant sensation in my gut, as if someone’s hand was gripping it tightly, all squeezed together, and those damn clenching hands didn’t let go.

"Oh, Mr. Hang, what suggestion do you have? When I was your age, fine wine and women were already my greatest interests. I can’t believe you have a bigger appetite than I did," Shang Yin swirled his glass, the transparent ice cubes twirling around, representing the restless hearts of some people.

"Since tonight, we men are the leaders on this yacht, let’s have a contest," Hang Yishao felt a bloodthirsty desire rising within him.

Shang Yin looked from side to side, Fei Qing had drunk the most, now barely supported by several female companions, not even able to straighten his back.

Hang Yishao had also drunk a lot, his eyes filled with red veins, already like a beast about to burst, while Pello had just boarded the yacht.

"Contest in what? If it’s a drinking contest, it seems a bit unfair," Shang Yin also wanted to compete with Pello in drinking, but such an occasion tonight obviously wasn’t suitable.

"Not drinking, but fists." Hang Yishao pushed Chang Chi away, unbuttoning his shirt, "Last time I was horseriding, he cheated me, today we’ll have a real fight, if you lose, your female companion belongs to me tonight," his gaze fixed obstinately on Su Ziceng’s face.

Pello laughed, but it was towards Shang Yin. Shang Yin gave a bitter smile, only he understood Pello’s smile, having witnessed Pello’s combat skills before, Hang Yishao must be drunk to challenge Pello to a fist contest.

"I don’t agree," Su Ziceng glared back at Hang Yishao. His glare also stunned Hang Yishao, their gazes locked together, unable to separate for a moment. Hang Yishao’s face turned from red to pale, like tofu sprinkled with brown sugar, quickly turning reddish-brown, and stuttered: "Then let’s bet on his ring, if you lose, it’s mine, how about that?"

After speaking, Hang Yishao realized the obvious change in his tone before and after, and to cover up his own gaffe, he waved his hand impatiently, "Are we competing or not, just one word."

"We’ll compete, but a war among men shouldn’t scare the ladies beside us. I’ll follow Mr. Hang’s way, with fists. But, we are arm wrestling." Saying this, he unbuttoned his suit cuff, rolled up his sleeves, and cleared the glasses and bottles from the table.

Shang Yin couldn’t help laughing out loud, Pello was really a devil disguised as a gentleman. Hang Yishao thought for a moment, then stretched out his right hand.

"I’m left-handed," Pello glanced at Su Ziceng, saw she wasn’t looking this way and was standing alone by the yacht’s window, her ring already taken off her finger, he switched to his left hand, putting his right hand beside the table.

Shang Yin was more earnest than his daily boxing practice, even took off his glasses. Pulling the unsteady Fei Qing, one person on each side, they became referees.

"First, the rules: wrists cannot bend, the other hand may not touch the table, and onlookers must not shout or scream," Shang Yin straightened their hands with his own, the three hands clasped together, and then quickly withdrew his hand.

Arm wrestling is the most primitive form of strength competition, and the fairest way to compete, purely a test of physical strength.

With a "clang," Chang Chi’s cheer rang out, Su Ziceng clenched the ring in her hand and turned to walk over.

Hang Yishao’s face was full of joy, while Pello shook his head slightly in regret.

"Good things come in pairs. Since you’ve won, I’ll add a nice touch by including this ring I have on hand, making it a perfect pair," Su Ziceng handed the ring to Chang Chi.

Chang Chi, upon seeing her expression, was momentarily too stunned to react. Just as he was about to take it, Su Ziceng’s hand was pushed away, and her arm, swung aside forcefully, caused her to lose balance as she had been standing on tiptoe. Her foot slipped, and along with her only remaining high heel, she fell forward.

The lone lover’s ring fell to the ground.

In Hang Yishao’s eyes, fury was blazing; he still held Pello’s ring in his hand, feeling a sense of humiliation. What was this, charity... or drawing a clear line?

Even Fei Qing felt that his reaction was a bit too harsh. Hang Yishao had already won the match; why was he now throwing a drunken fit? In the cabin, there was nothing but a deadly silence after the uproar. Hang Yishao clenched the ring, staring at Su Ziceng who was sitting on the ground.

In an instant, he saw a tear in Su Ziceng’s eyes, which quickly disappeared, leaving a pang of pain in his heart. Su Ziceng stubbornly tried to stand up, but the old injury in her ankle from a few months ago acted up again tonight.

In her most embarrassing, most pathetic moment, it recurred.

Su Ziceng glanced at the high heel lying not far away, the thin, shiny heel stabbing her eyes painfully. She should be the one furious, so why did it turn out to be him throwing the tantrum now.

One ring was a gift, and a pair of rings was also a gift; her things, Su Ziceng’s things, were hers to give to whomever she wanted. Her love was the same.

Pello squatted next to her, watching as she pulled her foot back under her skirt, yet unable to stand up.

"Cinderella only lost one shoe, but you’ve lost both. With no shoes, there’s no prince, only a coachman," Pello extended his right hand, muscling up his arm so that his suit sleeve tightened. With just one hand, he effortlessly picked up Su Ziceng. His left hand, which had arm-wrestled earlier, hung idle by his side, showing no signs of trembling or strain.

This lift by the waist made it clear to everyone, Pello was not a lefty. Hang Yishao no longer paid attention to these details, he was just annoyed watching the hand that had pushed Su Ziceng away. Pushing Su Ziceng aside, he felt something inside him was also being pushed away.

"Those rings are called the Alnis and Venus Rings," Su Ziceng’s voice, like the ring that hit the floor, traced a bright line, "Also known as the Wish Rings, too bad, they’re not very effective."

Really not effective? Hang Yishao picked up the other ring as well, a pair of rings large and small, and he placed them under the light. Inside the arm of the ring, besides a few diamonds, once were engraved two names: "Su Ziceng"...

No man likes using a ring that their girlfriend gave to their ex, and Pello was no exception. He could design to win a horse racing match, just as he could design to lose an arm-wrestling match. (To be continued. If you like this work, welcome to vote for it with recommendation tickets and monthly tickets at Qidian (qidian.com). Your support is my greatest motivation.)