Chapter 3

Translator: Atlas Studios Editor: Atlas Studios

Unlike his impatience with Xing Shu, Cheng Xingyang’s expression suddenly became very gentle. “Linlin, you’re awake? It’s raining heavily outside. Don’t go out today, okay? What? You have a fever. Is it serious?” His tone changed from joy to worry, and finally to panic.

Xing Shu leaned against the front passenger seat and played with her hair. She did not ask further. After hanging up the phone, Cheng Xingyang honked twice. When he saw that the car was still stationary, he punched the steering wheel twice in anger. Xing Shu found his reaction funny. Earlier at the apartment—if he had just gone upstairs to take a look, he would have discovered her tryst with another man. However, Cheng Xingyang was not interested in her, and would not go to her apartment. Thinking of what his reaction would be like when he found out about it, Xing Shu smiled.

Cheng Xingyang angrily pulled out his car keys and rushed into the storm without even taking his umbrella.

“We’re not going to the banquet?” Xing Shu called out after Cheng Xingyang’s departing figure.

“Linlin is sick. I’m going to take a look. After all, she’s your good friend,” Cheng Xingyang replied.

“Then you have to take good care of my good friend.” Xing Shu’s eyes brimmed with sarcasm.

Cheng Xingyang paused, before quickly disappearing into the rain. Xing Shu sighed and looked at the rain outside. She turned her head and realized that the a*shole Cheng Xingyang had taken the car keys with him. She frowned. Unbeknownst to her, the traffic jam ahead had cleared at some point in time—her car was the only one left, blocking the way—which soon attracted a stream of invective.

While trying to find an umbrella to exit the car, she saw several used condoms in the gap between the seat and center console. Her face darkened, and her stomach churned with disgust. She opened the storage box and saw the limited edition lipstick—the gift she had given Xing Linlin previously. There were only 20 of them in the world, so the odds of coincidence were very low.

Xing Shu smiled. She did not give a hoot about Xing Linlin’s blatant provocation. Unable to find an umbrella, she had to exit the car in the heavy rain. As soon as Xing Shu got out of the car, she was soaked. She stood in the dark—drenched by the rain—and watched the traffic police tow the car away.

Wiping the rain off her face, Xing Shu planned to try her luck at the sidewalk and see if she could get a cab. Just as she walked over, she saw a black Bentley slowly stop in front of her. Not only was the Bentley’s license plate conspicuous, but there was also a small flag beside it—an authorization to enter and exit any place unimpeded, even if it was a restricted military area.

Xing Shu raised her eyebrows and smiled. She opened the car door and got in. “Young Uncle, what a coincidence.”

Cheng Lang gave Xing Shu a glance before looking away, fingertips casually fiddling with the prayer beads on his wrist. “My nephew doesn’t want you anymore?” He went for the jugular at the first chance he got.

Xing Shu blew a raspberry. What “Buddha on Earth”? This person was a demon—every sentence was meant to twist the knife!

“Young Uncle, I served you well in bed last night, didn’t I? Why are you so cold once we leave the bed?” Xing Shu smiled subserviently, putting her seductive eyes to work. There was no sign of embarrassment or shame of being cast aside on her face.

Jian Yaochuan—in the front seat—silently rolled up the partition divider, not daring to listen to the conversation behind him.

“You served me well?” Cheng Lang repeated these words with a sweeping glance. “You’re like a dead fish. You only know how to scream and don’t know how to move. What’s so good about you?”

Xing Shu gritted her teeth and faked a smile. “That’s really hard on you, Young Uncle. You had to romp a dead fish for so long. Your vigor in bed makes people think that you’ve never seen a woman in your life.” She retorted sarcastically. Her lips were pursed tightly, casting a pitiful look.

Xing Shu was about to get out of the car when she was forcefully pulled back by a hand. Cheng Lang’s fingertips gripped her wrist, restraining her. He looked up and said to the front, “Let’s go back to Manor No. 1.”

Manor No. 1 was where Cheng Lang lived. It seemed that he did not plan to attend the banquet—even though he was the star of the show—Xing Shu was confounded. Anyway, she did not want to go to the Cheng family in such a sorry state. She would only be bullied or mistreated if she went; so she simply leaned into Cheng Lang’s arms.

Cheng Lang lowered his head and looked at her with dark eyes. “Not leaving?”

Xing Shu said, “Look at what you’re saying, Young Uncle. How can a dead fish move?”

Cheng Lang: “…”

Xing Shu finally won a round. She leaned into Cheng Lang’s arms happily, not caring if her wet sweater would dirty his suit.