Zhang Rong nodded. “It was my mistake.”
During their leisure time, the amusements of the successful are nothing more than a higher-class version of indulgence—wine, women, and song, just with more extravagance and luxury. In the end, it’s always the same old story, inevitably falling into vulgarity.
He Yuzhou holds a lofty position, wielding absolute power. There are countless people eager to curry favor with him, so naturally, there are always those who try to take shortcuts and present him with peerless beauties from all over the world—and even more of those beauties themselves, eager to throw themselves into his arms.
He Yuzhou is a man of intellect and strategy, sharp and capable, with extraordinary business acumen.
Otherwise, he wouldn’t have expanded the company’s reach so greatly in just three years after taking over the group. Of course, his life isn’t all about work; his leisure time is far from dull.
In fact, he’s someone who loves to play, with a wide range of unique and expensive hobbies—soaring through the skies, plunging to the depths, chasing the wind and the moon.
He’s proficient in skydiving, surfing, and motorcycle riding, and is especially passionate about freediving.
He even knows Yancai Painting, and though he’s a businessman who measures value in money, he can set aside profit for the sake of art—personally venturing into the mountains to mine for the pure natural minerals needed for his own paintings.
His life is vibrant and colorful, savoring every day to the fullest.
But he alone is unmoved by beauty.
He utterly despises such behavior, treating it as worthless trash.
His love for play never touches upon vulgarities, and never includes women.
So whenever a woman tries to throw herself at him, or someone attempts to curry favor by using a beauty as a gift, Zhang Rong always handles it with ease.
In his early years, He Yuzhou’s father, He Jingsheng, suffered three assassination attempts due to family infighting.
As a result, every outing was exceptionally cautious, itineraries kept highly secret, bodyguards always by his side—far less free than ordinary people, with safety always the top priority.
Naturally, He Yuzhou’s own bodyguards are indispensable.
After all, the higher you climb, the stronger the winds—the more those with ill intentions gather.
This island is He Yuzhou’s Private Island, with absolutely no outsiders allowed.
Yet, Cen Yingshuang appeared near the yacht wearing a bathrobe, making it hard for Zhang Rong not to suspect her motives.
Whether she wanted to throw herself at someone or had other intentions, Zhang Rong could not simply turn a blind eye.
At that moment, Zhang Rong suddenly heard a brief laugh—so fleeting it was almost an illusion.
Yet, ever meticulous and observant, he caught it clearly.
He glanced at He Yuzhou and saw that his gaze was fixed on a certain spot ahead.
Zhang Rong followed He Yuzhou’s line of sight.
He saw Cen Yingshuang sprawled on the sand.
She must have run too fast, tripped, and face-planted onto the beach in a most undignified way.
Even though she’d been scared out of her wits, she still found time to clumsily pick up the fallen shells.
He Yuzhou watched this scene.
There was still a faint, barely noticeable trace of a smile at the corner of his lips.
Zhang Rong was a little surprised.
Ever since He Yuzhou took over the group, Zhang Rong had been at his side.
In his memory, He Yuzhou’s gaze had never lingered on any woman besides his own mother and sister.
It wasn’t that he was averse to women in the traditional sense, nor did he have any hidden ailments.
He was also very respectful toward women. As far as Zhang Rong understood, it was simply that He Yuzhou found it unnecessary, troublesome, and a waste of time.
He had endless work and deals to negotiate, flying all over the world.
Rather than seeking pleasure like others, he’d rather devote his precious time to his hobbies—night diving in the deep sea, exploring the other side of the ocean, witnessing a true underwater carnival.
In situations like tonight, Zhang Rong had always been the one to handle things.
After Cen Yingshuang explained that she was here to film an advertisement, Zhang Rong remembered the matter—He Yuzhou liked diving, so he owned several Private Islands in Fiji.
This time, it was He Yuzhou’s mother who personally called to ask for his consent—France’s luxury brand wanted to use his island to shoot a Perfume Promotional Film, promising absolutely no harm to the environment, and would leave immediately after filming.
He Yuzhou’s mother, Shen Qiangyi, was the former Troupe Leader of the United Kingdom’s top Ballet Troupe, and had served as Principal Dancer for over thirty years, creating countless classic works in her career.
The brand’s previous executive chairman, while still alive, had sponsored costumes designed personally for Madam He, so there was some connection between them.
So He Yuzhou agreed readily—it was just an island, after all.
Once Zhang Rong confirmed Cen Yingshuang’s identity, he would naturally let her go.
But earlier, He Yuzhou had personally called to tell him to let her go. He’d never bothered with such things before.
Now, he kept staring at her.
Zhang Rong couldn’t help but wonder—could it be that this time…
Especially since… she was indeed so…
But just as Zhang Rong was thinking this, He Yuzhou finished his last drag of the cigarette, stubbed it out in the ashtray handed to him by a crew member, and then withdrew his gaze, turning away without the slightest hesitation.
Some people truly have a kind of magical allure.
So beautiful that even the night cannot conceal it, so beautiful that even distance cannot diminish it.
Cen Yingshuang was just such a person.
But He Yuzhou did not look at her again.
Even as Cen Yingshuang half-sat on the beach, her bathrobe loose, the hem riding up to her thighs, her skin glowing white in the moonlight and darkness—like a Night-Luminescent Pearl accidentally dropped.
Only then did Zhang Rong realize how ridiculous his earlier impression had been.
What beauty had He Yuzhou not seen?
Why would she be special to him?
He’d only lingered because his cigarette wasn’t finished.
And he hadn’t been staring at her on purpose—she just happened to be in his line of sight.
That laugh just now had probably been genuine amusement at her comical actions—like watching an entertaining play.
***
Cen Yingshuang hurriedly picked up the fallen shells and stuffed them into the pocket of her bathrobe.
The bathrobe’s belt was a little loose, so as she scrambled to her feet, she tied it tightly, glancing back instinctively to make sure those black-clad bodyguards weren’t chasing after her.
Yet her gaze was once again drawn to the man on the yacht’s second level.
He was already turning to head inside.
Watching his back, his posture as he walked.
Cen Yingshuang couldn’t shake a strange sense of familiarity, as if she’d seen him somewhere before.
She couldn’t recall where for the moment, and right now, she had no mind to think about it.
She dashed back toward the Villa.
It was only then she realized how far she’d gone—she’d picked up shells all the way from the Villa to the port.
She didn’t know how long she’d run, but finally made it back to the Villa.
She wanted to rush to tell Màn Jie all she’d experienced, but when she reached Màn Jie’s door, she suddenly stopped.
She realized.
She couldn’t let this get out.
If they really were some kind of gang, and she told anyone else—if Màn Jie spread the word—wouldn’t she be dead for sure?
Just like in the movies, would they chase her to the ends of the earth?
And if Màn Jie knew she’d snuck out so late and experienced such a harrowing ordeal, she’d definitely nag her endlessly, and even tattle to Zhou Yabin.
Cen Yingshuang slunk back to her room, legs weak.
She was soaked through, so she quickly took a hot shower, then dove onto her bed, pulling the covers tightly over her head.
She hugged her My Little Pony Pinkie Pie Plush close.
Thinking back on everything, she felt a chill down her spine and lingering fear.
Still under the covers, she fished out her phone, opened WeChat, and sent a Pinkie Pie crying sticker—Sadness This Big—to the fourth pinned chat, without typing a word.
There was no reply for a long time.
She still couldn’t stop trembling. Who knows how much time passed; as she was slowly drifting off to sleep in her fright, her phone chimed with a “ding dong” by her pillow, startling her awake.
Groggily, she opened her eyes and checked her phone. Seeing the message, she couldn’t help but smile.
“What’s wrong?”
She replied: “I tripped while picking up shells.”
Right after she sent it, she suddenly sat up, turned on the lamp, and pulled back the covers to reveal her legs. Sure enough, her knees were already bruised.
She snapped a picture and sent it.
The reply came quickly: “How could you be so careless? Did you put on any ointment? Try icing it.”
Cen Yingshuang: “No.”
“Then go do it right away! It’ll definitely swell by tomorrow. Will it affect your shoot?”
“I don’t know where to find medicine or ice packs.”
“Ask Màn Jie.”
“I don’t dare tell Màn Jie I went to the beach for shells. She’ll definitely scold me.”
Attached a loppy pitiful sticker: “Looking up at 45°c, not letting tears fall”
[It really is dangerous, don’t go next time.]
Before Cen Yingshuang could reply, another message popped up: “If I were by your side, you wouldn’t have gotten hurt.”
Seeing this, Cen Yingshuang’s face burned, and she shrank into the covers in embarrassment.
Too shy to respond, she changed the subject: “But the shells here are really beautiful! I picked up so many!”
“I’ll have to put these shells on display, since you worked so hard to collect them. [sneaky laugh]”
[Hahaha.]
[It’s late, hurry and sleep. You’ve got filming tomorrow.]
[Animated sticker]—Still a Pinkie Pie sticker, with the caption—“When in trouble, take a nap.”
[Good night [moon]]
Cen Yingshuang sent back a “moon” emoji, then put her phone away, glanced at the colorful shells on her nightstand, and though she’d been scared to death at the time, she was glad she’d brought them all back.
Thanks to the chat, the fright she’d suffered tonight finally faded.
She turned off the lamp and lay down.
This time, she quickly drifted off with a sweet, contented heart.
***
Filming was in the afternoon.
So Cen Yingshuang got to sleep in, and it wasn’t until noon that Màn Jie, acting as her human alarm clock, woke her up.
Lately, she’d been busy with drama promotions, events, and variety shows, running herself ragged and barely sleeping. After a full night’s rest, Cen Yingshuang was back to full strength.
The dining table was set in the Villa’s Sunroom Terrace.
The sunlight was lovely today, but the temperature inside was just right, the air fragrant with flowers and fresh.
Outside was the endless expanse of sea.
The nighttime sea was a world apart from the daytime sea—at night, the waves were fierce and intimidating, enough to strike fear with a glance.
Blue sky, white clouds, lush coconut trees, crystal-clear blue water.
It was as beautiful as if a filter had been applied.
She almost forgot last night’s nightmare.
The Sunroom Terrace offered a panoramic view of the scenery. Just eating here was a pleasure in itself.
Even eating nothing but “rabbit food” with no meat didn’t feel like suffering.
On a whim, she excitedly handed her phone to Màn Jie, who was sitting beside her.
“Màn Jie, help me take some pictures!”
Without a word, Màn Jie took her phone.
They snapped some photos, had lunch, and then Cen Yingshuang wandered around the Villa.
The Villa’s design was quite unique—a blend of French and new Chinese styles, yet somehow not at all jarring.
The colors were dark and vintage, mixed with Chinese flower vases, but didn’t feel heavy at all.
Before she knew it, she’d reached the third floor.
The corridor was dimly lit, with deep brown French classical carpets, wooden walls on both sides, and vibrant Chinese murals on the walls.
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