Her expression remained impassive as she spoke. Yue Zun continued tapping the steering wheel with impatience, his narrowed phoenix eyes seeming to glimpse the raging beast lurking within Mo Shengxiao's gaze. Though she tried to conceal it, his sharp perception always uncovered the indifference she desperately suppressed—perhaps even a hint of faint ambition and unwillingness.
Su Aiya's expression darkened, though she dared not vent her frustration in Yue Zun's presence. She tightened her grip on the man's arm, as if this very act were a form of bragging rights. "Mo Shengxiao, we'll see about that."
"Why is it still so congested?" the man interjected, his brow slightly furrowed as his eyes remained fixed ahead. Having been with Su Aiya for some time now, she knew exactly what his raised eyebrow meant—Yue Zun was already annoyed by her chatter.
"Zun, about Friday..."
"Next time, come by yourself." He coldly cut off her hastily formed words. The cars ahead finally began to inch forward. Yezun propped his left hand on the window, too lazy to move, and pulled a cigarette from the side to light it.
Su Aiya's arm, draped over his, froze awkwardly. Seeing his thin lips press tightly together, she could only slump back into the passenger seat, feeling resentful. Cold as a crisp autumn day, the sunlight streaming down in generous handfuls still couldn't match the comfort of warm spring.
Mo Shengxiao paced near the platform. Looking up, she saw clusters of unidentified fluff drifting down from somewhere above, light and airy like country dandelions. Several tufts fell together from the top of a massive billboard. Her eyes followed them until they finally settled on the man's refined forehead.
Yuezun seemed oblivious. As traffic finally eased, he pressed the accelerator and vanished from Shengxiao's sight.
In the blink of an eye, when she looked again, only the sleek rear end of the luxury sports car remained.
Inside the private club.
Such opulence wasn't unfamiliar to Shengxiao. Every outing opportunity came from Tao Chen's recommendations—the only way to earn the exorbitant fees.
The form-fitting black gown was tailored specifically for her, though it still felt slightly tight, as if suffocating her.
When Yue Zun arrived, he was clearly late. Su Aiya, elegantly dressed and clasping his right arm, radiated beauty, yet a hint of student-like innocence still shone through her makeup—a peculiar preference of this man.
"Young Master Yue, you're late. Did something unexpected come up?" The club owner presented red wine, his gaze lingering suggestively over Su Aiya.
The man's fingers tapped lightly against the rim of his glass, his expression nonchalant. The dragon tattoo on his knuckles seemed to writhe with arrogance. His eyes were distant yet piercingly sharp, cutting through the haze of lights to fix directly on the figure whose bare back was half-exposed.
His cold demeanor was something those around him had grown accustomed to. Su Aiya followed his gaze and recognized the figure in the distance.
She clenched her fingers tightly, digging her nails painfully into the man's arm. Yue Zun frowned. By the time she regained her composure, his piercing eyes had already turned to her.
"I-I'm sorry..." Su Aiya hastily withdrew her hand, her meticulously applied makeup appearing slightly unnatural. She seemed profoundly afraid of this man. In his presence, her usual pride vanished as if it had never existed. That trembling timidity was truly laughable.
Yuezun stood tall, his cold face stretching into a faint smile. To the woman beside him, though still icy, it felt like a March breeze. He casually draped his arm over her shoulder, gently pulling her toward the center of the crowd.
Shengxiao's hands danced fluidly across the black and white keys. The soft orange glow seemed designed solely for her, spilling down to cover her shoulders and accentuating her slender collarbone.
A faint stir stirred outside the foyer. Shengxiao didn't lift her head. In a place like this, anyone who could enter was either wealthy or influential, the cream of the crop. She was completely absorbed in her performance until the piece ended, only then lifting her head slightly.
Under the spotlight, her rapidly shifting expressions were starkly illuminated: shock, unbearable anguish, and humiliation threatening to tear her apart at any moment.
That man was a magnet for attention wherever he went. His tall, slender frame was clad in his beloved silver-toned, luxurious suit. His thin lips curved into a slight smile, and his light brown hair was slightly long. At first glance, he could even be described as strikingly beautiful.
She wanted to bolt, legs spreading to run, but the hem of her gown fettered her hasty movement. Her heels clicked a few steps before she stumbled, tripping on a stair and lurching sideways. Only her hands, clutching the left railing in time, saved her.
－－－－－－Side Note－－－－－－
Hey everyone, YaoYao saw your comments! Thanks for your support! Gotta head out today, so won't reply individually. Be good, everyone—no lurking allowed...
This book is published exclusively here. No unauthorized reposting!
,
03 Return to Humiliation (Part 2)
She fidgeted nervously, while Yan Zhanqing remained perfectly composed. He finished his glass of red wine, handed the empty glass to the waiter, and only after completing this elegant sequence did he stride toward Mo Shengxiao with his long legs.
His movements remained as crude as she remembered. Mo Shengxiao was yanked to her feet, stumbling a few steps behind him. From a distance, it looked as if she'd been dragged there by force.
Her pale cheek was pressed hard against the smooth Roman column. The cold seeped through her skin, distorting her beauty into a twisted, distorted shape.
"Only half a year apart, and you seem to have 'grown up'." The man leaned in, his breath hot and suggestive against her ear, carrying a faint tingling sensation. The stir of her dark hair mingled with the subtle scent of shampoo, momentarily intoxicating.
Mo Shengxiao struggled fiercely, but her hands were pinned behind her back, locked as if in a tight knot, leaving her utterly immobilized.
"There shouldn't be anything between us anymore..."
Facing her accusation, Yan Zhanqing merely curled his lips. His powerful frame pressed down on her, suffocating her like a nightmare descending upon her, one she couldn't escape. "Did I ever say that? When you were scrambling to earn that hefty tuition fee, you weren't this cold, were you?" Disappointment played deliberately across the man's handsome features. Though his appearance bore no resemblance to arrogance or tyranny, one needn't know him well to understand he was no saint—more beastly than the worst beasts.
The man watched her already deathly pale face with leisurely composure. Mo Shengxiao's lips twitched painfully a few times. Whether from the heat or something else, sweat was already seeping faintly from her hairline.
"I earned that money cleanly..."
She seemed to have shouted those words with every ounce of strength left in her. The volume drew curious glances from the well-dressed crowd.
"Damn it!" Yan Zhanqing, though no stranger to navigating a sea of beauties, knew this was no place for reckless behavior. His large hand tightened around her slender waist, pulling her seamlessly behind a pristine Roman column.
The area was adorned with curtains designed by an Italian master, creating a perfect hiding spot from top to bottom. Not a sound, not even a single strand of hair, would be detected by outsiders.
"Clean? Mo Shengxiao, you dare utter the word 'clean' in front of me? Have you forgotten how you ended up beneath me, begging like a dog wagging its tail?" His words were laced with venom, as if he wouldn't rest until he tore her soul apart. A man like him cared nothing for her pain or the bleeding wounds in her heart. He towered over her, concerned only with his own satisfaction.
"Yan Zhanqing, what exactly do you want?"
"Join me for a little fun. You know these gatherings are utterly tedious. Without some amusement, we'd be doing ourselves a disservice." His tone was casual, but the "fun" he spoke of would be inflicted upon her frail body. The hands resting on her shoulders now seemed to transform into the claws of a predatory leopard, each movement threatening to tear her apart.
"Don't do this. I'm doing well now, really. I don't want to go back..." It was a life she'd fought so hard to escape. Elegance was ingrained in her very bones—that darkness she could feel with her eyes closed. She truly didn't want to return.
"What are you pretending? Didn't you come here today for money too? I'll give it to you!"
After a brief struggle, she didn't know what he'd struck her face with, only that the sensation seared like a knife piercing flesh—more like a blade tearing bare, exposing the careful facade she'd built over years. Entering the most elite school hadn't erased the humiliation she'd endured before.
"I hate women who put on airs. If you just told me you're a whore, I might actually let you go. Want to... try it?" He plunged a hand into her thick hair, yanking her face up to his. "Say it. Say you're a whore..."