Just after a torrential downpour in Shanghai, the air felt thick and sticky. She had no idea where Chen Yao was taking her. It was only upon arrival that she realized they were in the suburbs. At the golf course, open at night, the green lawns were dotted with twinkling neon lights. In an instant, she caught sight of Zhou Luchen.
All the way there, Chen Yao had his laptop with him, and the moment they arrived, he handed it straight to Zhou Luchen. In the driving range under the long corridor, the black leather sofas were surrounded by businessmen in suits, some seated, some standing, with seven or eight laptops spread across the tables. Zhou Luchen, dressed in a white shirt with several buttons casually undone, exuded a lazy charm, yet he was unmistakably the most authoritative figure, occupying the main seat. Bent slightly, typing on his keyboard, he would occasionally instruct the entrepreneurs to report. His words carried an air of authority, the kind that could reshape the financial world with a mere flick of his wrist. He looked up at the huge projection screen on the white wall, which was displaying Swiss financial news. His phone rang, and in that moment, everyone fell silent. All that could be heard was Zhou Luchen's fluent English on the other end, "Put it in the Swiss Headquarters." After he hung up, the group of entrepreneurs showed pleased expressions. They stood up to shake hands and chat, calling it a day before instructing their assistants to take their laptops and leave.
As one entrepreneur passed by, he didn't forget to greet Chen Yao, "Young Master Chen, enjoy your night." This group of entrepreneurs was well-known online, their assets significant enough to be listed on Forbes. Suddenly, someone jested, "Young Master Chen has a new companion today. It's good to be young."
At this remark, Chen Yao couldn't help but steal a glance at Zhou Luchen. Indifference. That single word seemed to emanate from the Second Young Master. Chen Yao had no choice but to explain, "The young lady isn't with me." The others simply assumed she was just another wealthy young master's evening entertainment; whose she was hardly mattered.
As the crowd dwindled, Chen Yao sat on the armrest of the sofa and had a long, hushed conversation with Zhou Luchen, likely discussing important matters not meant for outsiders. "She's short of money," Chen Yao added, "I'm saying Shen Jing is short of money."
Zhou Luchen just sat there, not uttering a word.
He had offered before, but Shen Jing hadn't accepted. Giving money did feel somewhat like a transaction; things had gotten messy, a muddle born from an uncontrollable impulse.
Chen Yao continued, "She worked hard for an endorsement and earned 500,000. She urgently needs the money anyway. I learned that while chatting in the car. Earning 500,000 by herself in a few days—that girl's pretty capable." Chen Yao spilled all the details.
Zhou Luchen's gaze swept over Shen Jing before he indifferently withdrew it. "It was just a fling. Don't bring her before me again."
His tone was detached, cold as ice.
Hearing this, Chen Yao fumbled with his lighter, unable to get it to ignite even after several tries.
The girl is quite pretty, Chen Yao thought. She seems quiet and sensible, not the troublesome type. Wouldn't the Second Young Master show some compassion? It's rare to find a girl who approaches the Second Young Master not for material gain or influence.
Two or three minutes passed. Zhou Luchen walked straight past Chen Yao, devoid of any discernible emotion. Zhou Luchen was excessively rational and, it seemed, heartless.
Shen Jing saw Zhou Luchen leave. She had intended to strike up a conversation but found his aura so detached it was frightening. His presence is too imposing, she thought, and it would be inappropriate now. So, she chose to remain silent and focused on watching the nearby golf game instead.
That night, Zhou Luchen wasn't there. It was just Chen Yao and his group of friends, scions of aristocratic families, playing golf. She wasn't interested, merely watching Xing Fei and Chen Yao play. She didn't understand any of it.
BEEP.
Her phone buzzed with a text message. An amount of 3,000,000.00 yuan had been transferred into her bank account.
She read it a second time. This transaction isn't from the cosmetic surgery clinic. Definitely not. The card number I gave the clinic wasn't this one. And the clinic wouldn't transfer this much money anyway.
Out of the blue, Chen Yao whispered in her ear, "Better to like his money than to like him as a person."
Shen Jing, still looking at the message, asked, "What?"
"How much did the Second Young Master give you?" Chen Yao asked.
It dawned on Shen Jing that the money was from Zhou Luchen.
"Three million."
"I told him you were short of money. Is that enough? If not, I can lend you some," Chen Yao said, his fingers gesturing animatedly. "The kind you have to repay, of course. Just tell me how much you need."
So the young master was using three million to draw a line between us. Shen Jing couldn't manage a smile. "No need," she said.
Chen Yao consoled her, "He doesn't like women clinging to him. Try not to let it get to you."
Shen Jing turned her head. "I understand what Zhou Luchen means."
He didn't say a word when we met, wouldn't even spare me a glance. Such coldness... I'm not a fool. A direct transfer of three million. Decisive and clear-cut. The three million was a warning: stay away from Zhou Luchen. This money... it felt like it was burning my hand. Her thoughts whirled. He was buying his way out of a one-night stand, making it clear he wanted no further connection with her. The rumors were true. That man... he wasn't easy to win over. He wasn't even giving me a chance.
Turning around, Shen Jing took Xing Fei's arm and started to leave.
Chen Yao offered to have his driver take them, but Shen Jing declined.