Earlier.....
"I heard you," Mo Fei cut in, waving one hand dismissively before Zach could finish repeating the question.
Then, with a friendly smile, he tilted his head and asked,
"Why do you ask? Do you want her number?"
Zach choked on the whiskey he had just sipped. He coughed into his fist, face twisting as he fought to regain whatever dignity the moment had stolen from him.
"Mo Fei," he said at last, voice tight.
But Mo Fei only looked at him with calm curiosity, as though this were a perfectly normal conversation between civilized people.
"Don't try to play coy," Zach said, finally recovering enough to sneer. "You got together with an engaged woman, and when it blew up, you tried to kill yourself by jumping off your building." He shook his head slowly. "Were you feeling that guilty?"
At those words, Mo Fei lowered his eyes.
Zach's lips curved.
Yes. There it was. Humiliation.
Finally.
Today, he would not let Mo Fei slip away so easily.
Around the table, everyone had gone still. Some were cautious now. Others were openly intrigued. Either way, all of them were waiting.
Surely there was no way out of this. Mo Fei had to be ashamed.
"Yes." Mo Fei answered.
The word fell so plainly and so quickly that everyone at the table went still.
Was he admitting it? Was he actually that full of guilt?
But they clearly did not know who they were dealing with.
Because Mo Fei was not even remotely finished.
"It was heartbreaking," he began softly.
A few people leaned in.
Mo Fei sighed with the sorrow of a widowed poet.
"To learn that such a beautiful woman was engaged…" He pressed a hand to his chest. "Curvy figure. Good shape. Beautiful devil eyes…"
Then he stood up dramatically and leaned toward Zach with pitiful eyes, he looked like a man about to collapse from old heartbreak.
"Gege…" His voice turned fragile.
"Why do you need to remind me of the past?" Mo Fei lifted a hand and wiped at the corner of his eye, brushing away a tear.
It was a fake tear. A deeply fraudulent criminally shameless tears.
But it was delivered with such sincerity that even the lighting seemed to hesitate.
Zach froze.
His face began switching rapidly between anger, surprise, irritation, and embarrassment, his expression had lost central control.
The people at the table were equally stunned.
Then, because humans were still humans no matter how petty they were, the murmuring began.
"It is a sensitive topic…"
"It must really be heartbreaking. He looks like he's about to cry."
Mo Fei caught those whispers out of the corner of his eye. His mouth curved slightly.
Then he looked back at Zach with renewed emotional damage.
Clearly, Zach had never eaten humble pie before. I will serve it to him fresh.
"Gege, I tell you," he said, voice trembling with fake pain, "I couldn't hold myself. It was too much torture." Then he raised a hand dramatically.
"I mean, is there anyone among us who could resist a beauty when she wants them?"
Mo Fei pointed at one man seated at the table. "You. Could you?"
The man looked between Mo Fei and Zach, suddenly caught in a moral crossfire he had not agreed to join.
Then, under the pressure of everyone looking at him, he shook his head.
Mo Fei clapped his hands once. "See?" Then he turned to another. "What about you?"
The second man hesitated. "I don't think I.... "
Mo Fei cut him off instantly. "Even he agrees." Seized by divine inspiration, he stepped toward a third man seated beside an attractive woman and placed a hand on the man's shoulder.
The man immediately looked like he wanted to throw that hand into the sea, but Mo Fei pressed closer and turned his face toward the woman, who instantly blushed under the attention.
"Brother," Mo Fei said solemnly, "look at the beauty beside you."
Then he turned back to the man.
"Can you resist this beauty even if someone else wanted her?"
He winked at the woman who blushed harder.
The man, now trapped between his pride, his date, and Mo Fei's nonsense, flushed and muttered,
"I… guess not."
Before he could regret that answer, Mo Fei took his hand and planted it right into the woman's.
"Brother," Mo Fei said with deep respect, "you are a strong man." Then he sighed.
"But even you cannot resist."
At this point, the entire conversation had quietly slipped away from Zach's original trap and gone dancing barefoot into a field of nonsense.
People were no longer focused on the scandal. They were talking among themselves now.
"He's kind of right…"
"Women are too beautiful."
"Do you think she charmed Mo Fei?"
"He doesn't even seem like the type to go after someone like that."
"It might have been her chasing him!"
"I mean, even my girlfriend didn't used to be mine…"
"Really?"
The murmurs grew louder.
And with every passing second, Zach's grip on the evening snapped another inch.
His hand tightened around the whiskey glass. A little more and it might shatter.
What was happening?
He had invited Mo Fei here to humiliate him.
So why was he suddenly losing the room?
And what in the world was this answer?
It made no sense, it was shameless ridiculous and yet somehow....
Zach's patience finally broke.
He stood abruptly and strode toward Mo Fei, grabbing his wrist.
"Listen, you.... "
But Mo Fei moved faster.
"Hey, hey, hey," he said soothingly, like a patient nurse calming a disturbed family member. "Chill, gege"
Before Zach could react, Mo Fei pressed him back into his seat.
Then he picked up the whiskey bottle and calmly refilled his glass.
Zach stared at him.
Eh?
What was this? Who was sitting down whom?
Mo Fei stood over him, looking disappointed in the way only an elder at a family meeting should be allowed to look.
"Zach gege," he said with a sigh, "you're the big brother here. How can you say such things based on rumors?"
He shook his head.
"And here I thought that since we're both in the industry, you would understand how these things work."
Zach nearly exploded on the spot.
This little...
"Tsk tsk tsk," Mo Fei clicked his tongue.
And that did it.
Zach shot to his feet again. "Mo Fei, don't get too full of yourself!"
The table fell quiet.
Everyone turned to look at Zach. Their expressions had shifted.
One person frowned and whispered, "Why is Zach angry?"
Another leaned in and murmured back,
"I don't know, but he seems really out for Mo Fei's neck."
Zach heard them. His face tightened.
"I'm not angry!" he snapped.
The whole table paused and that only made it worse. Mo Fei looked at him with a calm, thoughtful expression.
Poor child.
He really did not understand who he was up against.
He was fighting Mo Fei.
And in a battle of shamelessness, he Mo Fei was never going to lose.
Mo Fei shook his head slowly, the picture of calm disappointment.
"Gege must have had too much to drink."
Zach's head snapped up at once.
"I'm not drunk, I...."
"Sit down," Mo Fei said at the exact same time, already reaching out. "Here, let me help you."
And before Zach could gather enough dignity to resist, Mo Fei sat him down again.
Zach stared up at him in disbelief.
Why...
Why did he keep allowing this? At what point had this become a thing?
He was the one who had arranged this little humiliation. So why did he now feel like an overexcited child being disciplined at a family gathering?
Mo Fei, meanwhile, stood over him with an expression so calm and reasonable that it was beginning to feel deeply offensive.
"Gege," he said gently, "I understand that you might be curious." He shook his head validating Zach's emotional journey. "But rumors are bad for your reputation."
That made Zach's face change instantly.
Pale.
Because unlike shameless men such as Mo Fei, Zach still possessed ordinary celebrity fear. And ordinary celebrity fear had one god:
Fan opinion.
Mo Fei sighed.
"I mean…" He spread one hand gracefully. "What would your fans say if they heard their gege spends his time focusing on rumors?"
A laugh slipped out somewhere at the table, Zach's face tightened further.
Mo Fei turned at once toward the source.
It was the man with the unfortunate rat-like face.
[Again, for legal, moral, and literary purposes, the author would like to state that she is not judging anybody's appearance. This description belongs entirely to Mo Fei, whose spirit is clearly born under the sign of petty observation.]
"You," Mo Fei said, pointing at him. The man froze. "What's so funny?"
The rat-faced man immediately slapped a hand over his own mouth, restraining further laughter.
Mo Fei looked around the table. Then he clicked his tongue.
"Tsk."
His expression said he had seen something deeply disappointing in society.
"Each and every one of you," he began, voice light but cutting, "are respected influencers and celebrities."
He let the words hang for a moment, giving them all enough time to feel vaguely proud of themselves. Then he destroyed it.
"And yet you rely on rumors more than sasaengs."
The table went dead quiet.
One woman nearly dropped her glass. The man beside her stopped halfway through a sip.
Someone in the back looked personally attacked.
Mo Fei shook his head "This won't do."
He folded his arms and looked around the table slowly, as if seeing them properly for the first time and being deeply, spiritually disappointed.
The silence grew heavier. Then he sighed. A head-of-family-at-New-Year-dinner sigh.
Everyone instinctively stiffened.
They had suddenly become students who had been caught gossiping during moral instruction.
He pointed at one woman. "You."
The woman blinked.
"Yes, you. Batting your eyelashes at me earlier like a peacock trying to apply for a bank loan."
The woman's mouth opened.
Mo Fei moved his finger to the rat-faced man.
"And you."
The man straightened in panic.
Mo Fei did not stop. "And you... " He pointed at another one.
"Look at yourselves. All dressed in luxury, all with expensive watches, expensive drinks, expensive shoes…" He gestured broadly. "But your hobby is what?" He slapped a hand to his chest.
"Rumors."
Then he spread both arms dramatically.
"Rumors! About me!, Do you people not have jobs?"
One woman mumbled weakly, "We do…"
Mo Fei turned instantly. "Then do them!"
The woman shrank back into her seat.
Mo Fei paced once more, warming into his sermon.
I came here tonight thinking, ah, finally. A classy place. Fine people. Fine atmosphere. Maybe even a fine beauty or two. His gaze drifted wistfully for one second. But instead what did I find? A support group for unemployed gossip spirits!
He turned back to the rest of them and placed both hands on the table, leaning in.
"Let me educate you all, since apparently no one else has."
The whole table went still again.
"Rule one," he said, lifting one finger. "If a scandal is juicy, it is probably incomplete."
Second finger.
"Rule two. If you hear something online and repeat it immediately, congratulations, you are now part of the village well."
Third finger.
"Rule three. If you invite someone over just to humiliate them, and then fail…"
His gaze slid slowly to Zach.
"…you must sit there and accept your defeat with grace."
Mo Fei straightened and dusted off his sleeve.
Zach, meanwhile, had reached a state beyond rage. He was now just vibrating.
"You... " he began.
Mo Fei raised a hand. "Reflect, while I talk, all of you!"
Zach actually shut his mouth.
Why? No one knew.
Maybe even Zach didn't know.
As Mo Fei continued speaking, the atmosphere at the table changed in a way no one could quite explain. At first, they had only listened because they were too stunned to interrupt.
Then, little by little, the lecture took on a strange power of its own.
Mo Fei stood there with one hand behind his back and the other occasionally gesturing through the air like a strict but charismatic life coach who had descended from the heavens specifically to reform foolish celebrities.
"You must behave properly," he said with deep seriousness, pacing slowly in front of them. "What is a celebrity without class? Nothing. Empty shell. Expensive packaging. No soul."
Several people lowered their heads.
One woman nodded unconsciously, as if receiving truths she had not known she needed.
Mo Fei, seeing that they were listening, only became stronger.
"And if you want to survive in this industry, what do you need?" He lifted a finger.
"Discipline." Another finger. "Grace." A third finger. "And most importantly... " He tapped his own face. "Good bone structure. Which, unfortunately, not all of you have. But don't worry. Hard work can still save your careers."
The rat-faced man looked personally attacked. The woman beside him pressed a handkerchief to her face.
"Mo Fei gege…" one of the men suddenly said in a thick voice, rising from his seat with a bottle in hand. "Please. Let me pour you a drink."
Immediately, another stood. "Me too."
Then another.
And another.
Within seconds, several of them had gotten up and surrounded Mo Fei, each one holding out a whiskey bottle like an offering to some newly awakened spiritual leader.
"We would also like to pour for gege."
"Please accept our respect."
"You have opened our eyes."
A woman with handkerchief sniffed loudly and nodded in agreement.
Mo Fei stood in the middle of them, blinking at the bottles being offered to him from every direction. His soul swelled.
Look at this. Look at the reform. He had done it.
He was just about to accept a glass with the modest dignity of a benevolent ruler when a hand seized his arm.
"Feifei!" Chen Yu called out.
And what he saw nearly sent his spirit into the next life.
Mo Fei stood in the center of a group of strangers, all crowding around him with bottles in hand.
To Chen Yu's eyes, there was only one possible explanation:
an ambush.
His heart shot out of his body, saw heaven, and then came rushing back down.
"Feifei, are you alright?!" he demanded, immediately checking Mo Fei from head to toe, then he looked up.
"How dare you pick on him?" Chen Yu snapped, turning toward the people surrounding them. "What's going on? Do you want to start a fight in the club? What is your probl... " The rest died in his throat.
Because… No one was reacting.
Sima Li behind him blinked, Nil stood beside them, one brow lifting slowly.
All three of them had come over fully prepared to defend Mo Fei.
Chen Yu's body was in attack mode.
Sima Li had instinctively squared his shoulders like a man ready for drama.
Nil had already taken on the expression of someone who was going to call security, HR, and perhaps a priest if necessary.
But the table?The table looked… solemn and quiet.
One of the women still had a handkerchief pressed to her face. Chen Yu stared at her
Was she…
Was she crying?
He slowly turned back toward Mo Fei, who looked more embarrassed than endangered.
"Feifei," Chen Yu asked cautiously, "what… is going on?"
Mo Fei scratched the back of his head and gave a small, awkward smile.
"We…" He glanced at the people around him, then back at Chen Yu. "…were just having a conversation."
Chen Yu looked at the surrounding bottles. "A conversation?"
Mo Fei nodded.
One of the men holding a bottle stepped forward respectfully. "We just wanted to offer him a drink."
Chen Yu: "…"
Sima Li: "…"
Nil: "…"
Then why was every single one of them holding out a bottle of whiskey toward Mo Fei like worshippers preparing a ritual?
And more importantly, since when did Mo Fei become acquainted with this many people?
Chen Yu looked at Mo Fei. Deep suspicion entered his eyes.
Was this a cult?
His Feifei been here less than one hour and already founded a cult?
Chen Yu, still not fully trusting what he was seeing, tightened his grip on Mo Fei's arm and asked one last time,
"You're sure they weren't bullying you?"
Mo Fei hesitated.
Then looked around at the same people who, ten minutes ago, had indeed been planning to bully him and were now standing there with lowered heads and whiskey bottles like guilty disciples.
"…No," he said honestly.
That answer only made Chen Yu more confused.