As night fell, Yang Chen packed up his kebab stall and pushed his single-wheeled cart back to his shabby rented apartment.
It was an old building of unknown age. Even in Lan City, the rent was only 100 yuan a month—cheap precisely because no one wanted to live there. Unlike others, Yang Chen didn't worry about the building collapsing. It was a bargain, so he moved in.
"Wait, no—today is… Oh no!"
He took a five-minute cold shower, then stood by the big wooden cabinet by the bed, scratching his wet hair in frustration. Finally, he pulled on a beige shirt, a pair of light linen pants, and kept his plastic slippers on his feet.
Once outside, Yang Chen headed straight for the busiest commercial street in the West District—the only decent thoroughfare in the run-down area, known as Bar Street.
The neon-lit nightlife was in full swing. Colorful skirts swished by, and a medley of perfumes filled the air. The moment he stepped onto Bar Street, the buzz of the city engulfed him.
He walked straight to the entrance of a bar called ROSE, slipped familiarly to the bar counter, and sat down in a corner.
"Well, look who finally showed up. I thought you'd forgotten which way the door opens."
A young woman who looked like she'd stepped out of a painting glided over to him. She wore a stunningly modern, richly colored cheongsam that hugged her perfect figure. Her face was as smooth and luminous as a meticulously carved porcelain piece, her shoulder-length hair streaked with a few strands of pale purple.
Yang Chen's eyes crinkled with a smile. He met her gaze without awkwardness and said sincerely, "Sister Qiangwei, you look stunning. Happy birthday."
At the compliment, Qiangwei's cheeks flushed slightly. She bit her plump lips and said with a hint of self-pity, "What's the use of being pretty? Some people only come around once in a blue moon, and even show up late for my birthday."
"I can't help it. I don't drink, I'm no good at charming women, and I'm stuck at my stall every day. I barely have any free time."
Qiangwei glared at him with a touch of resentment.
"Spare me the excuses. That lousy kebab stall—what's so great about it? If you're that desperate to make money, come work for me as a housekeeper. I'll pay you a hundred times more than you earn selling kebabs!"
Yang Chen smiled wryly. "Sister Qiangwei, what man works as a housekeeper?"
"How many times have I told you? Call me Qiangwei. Do I look that old to you?" Qiangwei stared at him with almond-shaped eyes, her tone playful and coquettish.
"Okay, okay—Qiangwei, my bad. I just like my life the way it is. I don't plan on changing jobs anytime soon."
Qiangwei refused to give up. "Then be my bodyguard if you won't be my housekeeper. Or run the bar for me as manager—I only pop in occasionally to check on things anyway."
Yang Chen's heart warmed. He knew the woman in front of him truly cared about him. But he had his own principles. From the first day they met, he'd decided not to get too close to her.
"Forget it. Selling kebabs is fine. The people at the market are nice enough."
He lowered his head to drink water, unwilling to discuss the matter further.
Seeing his stubbornness, Qiangwei wrinkled her dainty nose in frustration and muttered almost to herself, "I wish you'd be my man…"
She didn't know that Yang Chen had heard every word clearly, even though it was barely audible. But he knew he had to pretend he'd heard nothing.
Defeated, Qiangwei walked around the bar and sat next to him. She poured herself a glass of whiskey, then filled one for Yang Chen too, shooting him a reproachful glance.
"You stubborn old ox. I know you're set in your ways, but fine—if you won't stay by my side, it's my birthday today. Can you make an exception and have a drink with me?"
Yang Chen hesitated. It wasn't that he couldn't drink. But alcohol muddled his mind, stirring up chaotic thoughts of things he'd rather forget. He needed to stay calm; to him, alcohol was poison…
"Alright. But only one glass."
Filled with a twinge of guilt, he didn't want to disappoint Qiangwei, so he finally agreed. He silently hoped this small glass wouldn't affect him.
Qiangwei broke into a bright smile, like sunlight breaking through snow. In the dim light, her face glowed with an ivory luster, and Yang Chen's heart skipped a beat.
"Cheers."
Their glasses clinked lightly. Yang Chen lifted the glass and downed it without hesitation.
Qiangwei giggled. Suddenly, she leaned forward, pressing her chest against his, her breath sweet as orchids.
"You know, I haven't celebrated my birthday in over ten years. No cake, no candles, no gifts, no party… But having you—this clueless man—drink with me? I'm more than happy…"
She tilted her head down slightly. Through the slit of her cheongsam, her pale, porcelain-like skin peeked out, and her slender legs ended in a pair of scarlet high heels. The striking sight sent a jolt through Yang Chen.
"What's the matter, little one…"
Just as Yang Chen was struggling to control his reaction, Qiangwei sat back up, grinning at him slyly like a fox that had just pulled off a trick.
"Qiangwei…"
Yang Chen smiled wryly. But before he could stand to leave, Qiangwei got up first, leaving her seat gracefully and heading toward the crowd of patrons.
"I can tell you're itching to go. I'll go greet the guests. If you really don't want to stay, you can leave."
Everyone at the bar knew the owner was stunningly beautiful, but none dared to overstep. Word had long spread that her background was extraordinary, so Qiangwei moved through the crowd with ease.
In truth, though her smile was warm and welcoming, her extraordinary aura made most men hold back. The thought that she was "to be admired from afar, not to be trifled with" rose unbidden in their minds. No one dared to make a fool of themselves.
With Qiangwei gone, Yang Chen let out a sigh of relief, only to wear a helpless expression moments later.
"Qiangwei… If you'd met me a few years ago… Well, never mind. It's rare to have a friend. I should go somewhere else to sober up."
With that thought, he finished a glass of water and slipped out of ROSE quietly. Once outside, he glanced around briefly, then walked into a small bar not far away.
What he didn't see was the flash of disappointment in Qiangwei's eyes as she watched him leave.
Shortly after stepping into the small bar, Yang Chen knew he'd come to the right place.
Hazy, dreamlike lighting filled the space. At the bar, in the corners, even in the middle of the hall, young couples hugged and cuddled. Lewd, wild laughter—laden with hidden meaning—echoed everywhere.
Before he'd taken a few steps, a heavily made-up woman in an outlandish outfit stumbled toward him, holding a glass of amber liquor.
"Handsome, buy me a drink?" Her voice was coquettish enough to make one's skin crawl.
The alcohol he hadn't touched in ages had already clouded his head. Yang Chen gave her a light pinch on the chest. The woman shuddered and giggled lewdly. "Naughty, handsome—pinching me like that right away. How will you make it up to me if you hurt me?"
She complained playfully but pressed even closer, wrapping her bare arms around Yang Chen's neck.
A wicked smile tugged at Yang Chen's lips. He had no interest in women like her. With a seemingly gentle push, he pried her off. "Sorry. I'm not into drunk women who throw themselves at anyone."
Still somewhat sober, the woman flew into a rage at the insult. Her face flushed with anger, and she smashed her glass on the floor.
"You bastard! You've got a death wish! Just you wait!" She stormed off toward a group of men in the corner of the bar.
A strange sense of satisfaction washed over Yang Chen. He hadn't hung out in places like this in ages. Today, he could let loose a little with the help of alcohol.
He walked to the bar, ordered a shot of vodka, and downed it in one go. A scorching heat surged through his body, and a wild excitement flickered in his eyes.
The flashy woman had rounded up seven or eight burly men. No sooner had Yang Chen finished his drink than they surrounded him.
She clung to the arm of a bald, muscular man at the front and shrieked, pointing at Yang Chen. "Brother! This bastard insulted me! Beat him to a pulp!"
The bald man glanced at Yang Chen's slender frame with disdain and signaled two of his men to teach him a lesson.
The two thugs grinned menacingly and stepped forward. Without a word, they swung fists as big as sandbags at him.
Yang Chen barely glanced at them, his expression calm as if nothing was happening. He simply raised both hands at the right moment, his palms meeting the men's fists…
"Argh!"
The two thugs screamed in unison. It felt like their hand bones were exploding from the inside out.
They crumpled to the ground, clutching their arms and rolling around in agony.
The scene was bizarre and sudden. Fights were common in this small bar, but no one had ever seen the bald man's crew lose so badly.
Curious and fearful eyes turned toward Yang Chen.
The bald man frowned, surprised. He studied Yang Chen's indifferent face suspiciously, then knelt down to examine one of his men's arm.
One look was all it took. His eyes widened, and cold sweat broke out on his forehead…
The other men behind him cursed loudly, ready to attack, but the bald man held out an arm to stop them.
Without hesitation, he stood up and bowed deeply to Yang Chen. "My apologies, sir. We've offended you. If you ever need anything, just call on us. Until next time!"
With that, he ordered his confused men to carry the two writhing thugs out of the bar.
The woman was utterly bewildered. Even outside, she kept yelling why no one had avenged her.
The bald man shot her a fierce glare, then turned to his equally confused men. "That man's palms broke Fifth and Sixth's arms. Do you think you could take him?"
The men fell silent. Those light, casual palms had such power—he was clearly a master. They immediately began flattering the bald man, praising his foresight.
The bald man ignored their fawning. He glanced back at the bar thoughtfully, his mind unreadable.
Meanwhile, Yang Chen was unaffected. With the bald man's crew gone, a corner booth was empty. He sauntered over, ready to scope out his "prey" for the night.
After easily defeating the thugs, everyone in the bar feared him. A few hot girls shot him flirtatious looks, but he ignored them, and they soon gave up.
Just as Yang Chen was about to sit on the sofa, he noticed someone lying on the long booth in the corner—a young woman.
One glance, and his eyes blazed with heat…
In the dim light, her silky black long hair spilled from the sofa onto the carpet. A white body-hugging dress clung to her graceful curves like gentle waves.
As he stepped closer, a tempting scent—jasmine mixed with alcohol—wafted over.
The woman was clearly very drunk. She clutched a wine glass in one pale hand, her body writhing occasionally on the sofa.
Yang Chen walked over, helped her sit up, and brushed the messy hair from her forehead, revealing a beautiful face flushed with intoxication.
To his surprise, she was even more stunning than Qiangwei—by threefold. Her features were exquisitely carved, and the mix of cold elegance and vulnerability from her drunkenness was enough to make any man lose his mind.
Stunningly beautiful, beyond compare.
But her extraordinary beauty left Yang Chen puzzled. Why would a woman like this be in a nightclub?
Unless she was a hostess—why else would she get dead drunk with a group like that, her face flushed with desire?
The woman was completely disoriented. Before Yang Chen could think further, she grabbed his shirt collar randomly and pressed her flower-petal-like lips to his.
Missing her aim, she only kissed his cheek before sliding down.
The cold, soft touch sent a surge of heat through Yang Chen. Looking at her watery, inviting eyes—completely at his mercy—he had no intention of holding back. He'd decided to let loose tonight. He pulled her soft, boneless body into his arms and kissed her fiercely…