At 10 o’clock in the evening, Guan Yingtang was already in bed.
Although the lights in the room were off, the party on the shore not far away seemed far from over, with the occasional sound of a lively crowd drifting over.
Guan Yingtang wasn’t someone who fussed about sleeping in a new bed, yet tonight she tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep.
Perhaps, deep down, she still couldn’t quite believe—
That tomorrow, she would really get to wear that back-chain dress and attend the banquet with Meng Qinghuai.
Meng Qinghuai said, “It’s very beautiful, too.”
Those four words took her a few seconds to process.
This afternoon, when she tried on the embroidered dress at the atelier and asked him if it looked good, his offhand, irrelevant answer left her speechless.
But now, not only did he say it looked good, he even added a subtle “too.”
Was this an indirect answer to her question from this afternoon?
Otherwise, why use the word “too”?
That one extra word changed the whole meaning.
It wasn’t the first time Guan Yingtang had been complimented on her looks.
The young masters of Hong Kong Island could throw out compliments at the drop of a hat— saying she was more beautiful than Miss World, that she was stunning beyond compare, that her face was finely sculpted by the heavens themselves…
She’d heard all the extravagant flattery before, yet somehow, it was Meng Qinghuai’s simple words that made her heart flutter.
She couldn’t quite say if it was because of his compliment, or because—
It was the first time someone had acknowledged her choice.
“You don’t think…” Guan Yingtang swallowed, her throat inexplicably dry, and asked him, “That dressing like this is a bit inappropriate?”
Meng Qinghuai picked up his laptop from the desk and glanced at her as he passed by.
“You don’t need a necklace,” he offered seriously. “It’s a bit much.”
…
Even now, Guan Yingtang still couldn’t believe it—after saying that, Meng Qinghuai just left the room.
He seemed totally unconcerned that a well-bred socialite would wear such a sexy gown.
Wasn’t the eldest son of the Meng family supposed to be raised strictly, especially traditional?
Or was it that, with this trip being so rushed and his work schedule packed, he simply didn’t have the time to care what she wore?
Guan Yingtang couldn’t figure it out.
In fact, up until now, everything she knew about Meng Qinghuai was based on rumors. She hadn’t really taken the time to get to know what kind of person he actually was.
But regardless, she could finally wear a dress she liked without any burden, and in this matter, Meng Qinghuai had, in a way, helped her fulfill a wish on her list.
As the night deepened and the noises faded, Guan Yingtang didn’t know when she finally fell asleep.
In a hazy dream, it seemed someone entered the room, but the presence disappeared in an instant.
She slept soundly, and only after waking up in the morning did she vaguely recall—
Meng Qinghuai must have come in.
Yet now, there was no sign of him in the bed, nor any trace that anyone else had slept there.
Guan Yingtang checked the time— it was already 10 a.m.
She’d slept right through her jet lag and overslept.
Hurrying out of bed, she stepped into the hallway just as Meng Qinghuai was coming out of another bedroom.
She paused, glancing at his room, and asked, “Did you sleep in there last night?”
Meng Qinghuai replied, “When I got back, Miss Guan was already asleep. I didn’t want to wake you, so I slept next door.”
“What?” Meng Qinghuai looked her over. “Are you disappointed?”
…Ridiculous!
Guan Yingtang opened her mouth, then immediately denied it, “I was just asking.”
He was the one who wanted this to feel like a honeymoon— what kind of couple spends their honeymoon sleeping separately?
At this point, Guan Yingtang even wondered if Meng Qinghuai’s decisiveness in getting the marriage certificate with her had some physiological explanation.
“We’ll have lunch at the hotel. Someone will bring the menu soon. Also, we’ll probably leave around 4 p.m. Does that work for you?” Meng Qinghuai asked.
There was plenty of time. Guan Yingtang shook her head, “That’s fine.”
At noon, the hotel butler delivered lunch to the room.
Lunch was sumptuous.
The savory Spanish ham was tender, the seafood rice seemed to soak up all the broth, and the chilled tomato soup was especially refreshing and light.
But Guan Yingtang didn’t eat much, just sampling a little of everything. Meng Qinghuai asked, “You don’t like the food?”
“It’s not that.” Guan Yingtang dabbed her mouth with a napkin. “I’m wearing an evening gown tonight. It’s not a good look if I eat too much.”
“…” Meng Qinghuai thought it unnecessary, but recalling his mother and sister had their own moments of such beauty-driven ‘self-discipline,’ he said nothing more.
After speaking, Guan Yingtang headed back to the bedroom, but halfway there, she turned back and asked Meng Qinghuai, “Are you going out this afternoon?”
“No.”
Originally, Meng Qinghuai had scheduled some work for these three or four free hours, but later canceled it.
Perhaps, he didn’t want this so-called “honeymoon experience” trip to always leave Guan Yingtang alone.
Guan Yingtang returned to the bedroom, while Meng Qinghuai sat on the sofa and opened his laptop. A few minutes later, the sound of running water drifted from the bathroom.
She must be showering.
Meng Qinghuai was only wearing a shirt, yet still felt the air was hot and stuffy.
He sat on the sofa for a while, then finally got up, and only then did the sound fade from his mind, taking away the restless heat with it.
Half an hour later, Guan Yingtang emerged.
She poured herself some water, then glanced back at the man sitting there, cool and composed, working as always, as if nothing could disturb his focus.
Yet Guan Yingtang felt that a man’s excessive calm and restraint was, in itself, another form of desire.
Just like now, the scattered light danced across his body, his crisp white shirt unbuttoned a few notches, giving him a look that was both neat and a little disheveled.
Almost as if the two of them had just done something passionate moments ago.
“…”
What was she even thinking?
Guan Yingtang snapped out of her thoughts, put down her glass, cleared her throat to cover her embarrassment, and returned to the bedroom.
After she left, Meng Qinghuai finally looked up, glancing at where she had just stood, but it was only a brief look before he took a deep breath and lowered his gaze. @All the best stories are on Jinjiang Literature City.
In the following hours, Guan Yingtang came out once or twice more— either to fetch the handbag she’d left in the living room or to nibble on a few grapes from the table.
Each time she appeared, Meng Qinghuai noticed the subtle changes in her.
Her damp hair was now dry.
Her bare face was now made up.
When the time ticked to 3:50, Meng Qinghuai checked his watch and prepared to shut down his computer and get ready to leave.
It was only then that he realized a file of barely three pages on the desk had taken him hours to get through.
He couldn’t help but laugh at himself— so even someone as efficient and focused as him could be so easily distracted.
At 3:59, the car sent by the host for the banquet had already arrived at the hotel.
Meng Qinghuai waited patiently for a while, but when Guan Yingtang still hadn’t come out, he walked to her bedroom door and was about to knock when the door opened from inside.
Immediately, a strikingly beautiful face appeared before his eyes.
Meng Qinghuai was momentarily stunned. His gaze met Guan Yingtang’s, both of them pausing for a few seconds.
She was clearly different today from her usual self, less of the deliberately cultivated scholarly air, and more of her true, radiant beauty.
Her tall, slender figure was perfectly proportioned, her skin so fair it seemed to glow, and her lips, usually pale, were now painted a slightly deeper red.
She wore no jewelry, but the two crisscrossed diamond chains on her back were enough to draw all eyes.
“Mr. Meng?” Seeing Meng Qinghuai silent, Guan Yingtang called out tentatively.
Why wasn’t he saying anything?
Did she go too far with her look?
Compared to her usual style, Guan Yingtang had been a bit bolder today—but only a bit, nothing outrageous.
She hadn’t even curled her hair, and her lipstick wasn’t the boldest, sexiest shade.
After a few moments, Meng Qinghuai turned away without saying anything. He simply said, “Let’s go. The car’s here.”
“…?”
–
Tonight’s banquet was extremely private, held on an island near Barcelona.
Guan Yingtang followed Meng Qinghuai into the host’s private car.
The car drove east from central Barcelona, and after about half an hour, they passed a town called Montermelo, which seemed to be hosting some event. Posters for “LIVE ROADSHOW” were everywhere.
Crowds packed the streets, surrounding the road in layers, and the roar of racing engines could be heard now and then.
The car passed through quickly and soon turned onto another road.
But Meng Qinghuai glanced a few extra times in the rearview mirror, then took out his phone and messaged his younger brother, Meng Fanchuan:
“Where are you?”
Soon, the reply came: “Still in Monaco.”
Unlike Meng Qinghuai’s calm, the second brother, Meng Fanchuan, was notoriously rebellious.
He even replied cheekily: “What, miss me?”
Having confirmed his brother’s whereabouts, Meng Qinghuai decided the scene he’d glimpsed was just a coincidence and didn’t reply.
Just then, Guan Yingtang turned and asked, “Did you prepare a gift for the Duke’s daughter?”
Meng Qinghuai put away his phone and nodded.
“What is it?”
“I don’t know,” Meng Qinghuai answered honestly.
Usually, the PR department handled gifts for such occasions.
This time, because it was the Duke’s daughter’s coming-of-age ceremony, Zhuang Jiayi had personally picked out a gift for the girl and asked Meng Qinghuai to deliver it.
But Guan Yingtang, not knowing this, was surprised by his indifference, “Is Mr. Meng always this casual about giving gifts?”
Meng Qinghuai was silent for a few seconds, then turned to look at her, his voice low and magnetic: “Depends on who it’s for.”
Meeting his sudden gaze, Guan Yingtang’s heart skipped a beat.
She didn’t know why Meng Qinghuai said that to her.
It seemed like some kind of hidden hint, or maybe just a casual answer.
But… he hadn’t given her any gifts, had he?
…Tch, being all mysterious.
Guan Yingtang pursed her lips and turned away, saying no more.
After another half hour, the car stopped at a dock, and they transferred to a helicopter to reach the island.
This was Carlos Duke’s private island in the Mediterranean. Without an invitation, no one could set foot here.
To fulfill his daughter’s princess dream, the Duke and Madam had started planning years ago, building a castle on the island.
But as she grew up, the daughter lost her fascination with fairy tales and preferred freedom and spontaneity.
So the grand coming-of-age ceremony became, at her request, a yacht party for young people.
At 6 p.m., with the sunset painting the sky, the lights of the luxury yacht on the island cast their glow across the sea, like a painting blending reality and fantasy.
This was a sea mansion for the nobility— a world out of reach for ordinary people.
The helicopter landed gently on the yacht’s helipad. The private butler was already waiting on the deck.
Meng Qinghuai got off first, and when Guan Yingtang followed, he reached out his hand to her.
Guan Yingtang hesitated, then placed her hand in his.
The warmth of his touch sent a subtle reaction through her skin, a slight flush rising.