At a little past 10 p.m., the night was just beginning.
Gongti West Road was at its liveliest, bustling with people.
Bars and nightclubs of every kind lined both sides of the street, neon lights flickering like a river, the whole place pulsing with the intoxicating energy of youth lost in revelry.
Zhi Shu slowed the car as they approached, and asked Meng Qinghuai, “Young Master, where should we go next?”
Actually, Meng Qinghuai wasn’t sure if Guan Yingtang had really come here.
Even if she had, with so many bars lining this street, he had no idea which one she might have chosen.
He took out his phone and tried calling Guan Yingtang again. Her phone was still off.
Of course, Guan Yingtang is my junior at Stanford, an outstanding graduate, a mature adult with both intellect and emotional intelligence.
She shouldn’t get herself into trouble.
But on the other hand, I was the one who brought her to Guangzhou, and we registered our marriage at a speed that would leave anyone speechless.
She’s not just my junior now— she’s my wife.
Meng Qinghuai pinched the bridge of his nose, his gaze falling on the stream of people along the roadside as he pondered how to find her without causing a scene.
Suddenly, at the entrance of a nightclub directly across the street, a familiar figure emerged.
She stood out among the crowd of scantily-clad partygoers.
Or rather, it was that elegant cheongsam she wore that seemed so out of place in such a venue.
Meng Qinghuai instructed Zhi Shu, “Over there. Go.”
Luxury cars crowded Gongti West Road. Even during the day, a McLaren worth tens of millions parked here would draw little attention.
But among all the luxury cars, those with a license plate starting with “A0” were almost unheard of.
Any old Guangzhou local in the know would recognize that the subtle numbers on that plate were a symbol of the city’s most powerful elite.
Back when the A0 series was first issued, fewer than a hundred were handed out in all of Guangzhou, and every owner was someone with an unfathomable background.
For example, the owner of this car and this plate— once, it belonged to Meng Qinghuai’s grandfather.
The Maybach’s stately body pulled up along the curb, drawing the occasional glance.
Zhi Shu slowly brought the car to a stop in front of Guan Yingtang. Beside her stood another young woman, the two of them huddled together, speaking quietly.
Autumn had arrived in Guangzhou, and the night was cool.
The air was thick with the scent of alcohol, and the neon lights flickered, casting a soft glow over Guan Yingtang’s flushed cheeks.
Meng Qinghuai glanced over, then got out of the car.
He walked toward them, and as he drew near, he caught a fragment of Guan Yingtang’s words: “…Mm, Jinghuayuan.”
The woman beside her was absorbed in her phone’s map. “Jinghuayuan? There’s no such place. Is it Jinghua Mansion?”
Guan Yingtang’s head felt heavy. She couldn’t remember whether Meng Qinghuai’s place was called Jinghuayuan or Jinghua Mansion.
She’d gotten carried away tonight and drank more than usual, well beyond her limit, and now her mind was spinning—
I just want something to lean on.
Jiang Kewei, beside her, was being knocked about as she tried to juggle her phone and steady Guan Yingtang. J
ust then, an empty taxi passed by. Jiang Kewei reached out to flag it down, but the person leaning on her lost balance and tumbled softly—
—right into the arms of another passerby.
Jiang Kewei jerked her hand back from hailing the cab, “Aiyo, my goodness, Patriarch!”
She tried to pull Guan Yingtang back while apologizing to the stranger, “Sorry, sorry, my friend’s had—” Before she could finish, Jiang Kewei caught a good look at the “stranger’s” face, and froze.
A sharply tailored black suit, impeccable fabric, an air of refined nobility— yet cold and distant, exuding aloof indifference.
Jiang Kewei was Guan Yingtang’s classmate from Stanford, a classic Guangzhou girl: forthright and direct. She was the one who dragged Guan Yingtang to a yacht party that first Christmas at school.
Unlike the rule-abiding Guan Yingtang, Jiang Kewei was a social butterfly, always in the know about everything in the Chinese community.
She was especially well-informed about this senior, hailed as the pride of the Chinese students.
But at this moment, before Jiang Kewei could recover from the shock of “meeting the real Meng Qinghuai,” the man’s next move left her utterly stunned.
Right there at the nightclub entrance, with people coming and going, Meng Qinghuai picked up Guan Yingtang and walked away.
Only after the black Maybach’s door closed and the car slowly disappeared from Jiang Kewei’s sight did she rub her eyes, snapping out of her disbelief.
“What the *???”
–
Like a bird just released from its cage, her first taste of “indulgence” had gone too far— Guan Yingtang was drunk.
Her head spun dizzily, but her thoughts were elated.
She remembered clearly that Jiang Kewei had said she’d hail a cab to take her home, and now, she was indeed sitting in a car.
The plush leather seat fit her back perfectly, making her feel relaxed.
But she still wanted something to lean on.
“You, let me lean on you.” Guan Yingtang unceremoniously moved closer.
Meng Qinghuai: “……”
Her soft body pressed against him, her head nestling affectionately on his shoulder.
He Yongzhi was driving, but his heart and eyes were drifting to the back seat.
He was utterly shocked— their usually ascetic Young Master had just carried a woman into the car!
And now this woman was clinging to him so intimately.
Young Master has a girlfriend?
Doesn’t seem like it— I’ve been with him all the time and never seen this lady before.
Maybe an old flame? Rekindled romance?
No word of that either.
Could she be someone new?
Zhi Shu glanced over, intending to observe through the rearview mirror, only to meet Meng Qinghuai’s gaze directly.
Just that brief glance, and Zhi Shu immediately looked away, his mind going silent.
In moments like this, Meng Qinghuai is just like his grandfather—commanding respect without anger, able to resolve anything with a single look.
The car was utterly silent.
Only the occasional mumbling from the drunken woman echoed in the air.
Guan Yingtang held on tightly.
Meng Qinghuai didn’t like being held this way, feeling out of control.
Several times he raised his arm to push her away, but in the end, he didn’t.
Fortunately, apart from holding him, Guan Yingtang did nothing else.
The ride back was uneventful, and twenty minutes later, they arrived at Jinghua Mansion.
The car delivered them to the villa’s entrance under the cover of darkness.
Zhi Shu got out politely to open the door. Meng Qinghuai gently nudged Guan Yingtang, “We’re here.”
Guan Yingtang “oh”ed, nodded, and stumbled out of the car.
Seeing her weaving unsteadily, Meng Qinghuai frowned and, with no other choice, picked her up again from behind.
Wow, Jiang Kewei’s gotten a lot stronger over the past year.
She grinned, burying herself in her “best friend’s” embrace, nuzzling closer. “Why don’t you stay with me tonight?”
Meng Qinghuai: “……”
He Yongzhi: “……”
Zhi Shu didn’t dare listen to any more of the young people’s business. He turned and waited in the car.
Once the door was closed, Meng Qinghuai carried her to the sofa. Guan Yingtang immediately pulled him to sit down beside her, snuggling up softly. “Don’t go, stay with me tonight.”
Her softness pressed tightly against him, her palm warm as she wrapped herself around his neck, that faint fragrance filling his senses.
She was drunk, but there was no trace of alcohol on her.
Or perhaps, Meng Qinghuai had simply remembered only her scent from the start.
Meng Qinghuai took a deep breath, calling her in a low voice, “Miss Guan.”
No response.
“Miss Gua—”
He hadn’t finished when Guan Yingtang suddenly pulled away from his embrace and started unfastening the frog buttons on her cheongsam. “So hot…”
Meng Qinghuai: “……”
He didn’t even have time to react before she’d already tugged her collar open, revealing skin as white as creamy jade.
Before she could go any further, Meng Qinghuai stopped her.
He caught her wrist, averting his eyes from the dazzling whiteness, and called her full name in a deep voice, “Guan Yingtang.”
The alcohol made Guan Yingtang feel feverish.
Annoyed, she shook off his hand and slumped toward him. “So sleepy, let’s just sleep.”
“……”
Meng Qinghuai looked down at the drunken woman before him, finding it hard to reconcile her with the legendary First Daughter of the Guan Family, the most elegant and refined lady in all of Hong Kong.
But this side of her—
Meng Qinghuai wasn’t surprised at all.
–
Guan Yingtang slept until ten the next morning.
That would have been impossible in Hong Kong.
Every day she got up at 8 a.m. sharp for yoga or some other exercise to keep her figure perfect.
Afterward, she’d read the day’s newspaper and news over breakfast, always ready to keep up with current events in any social setting.
A life of sleeping in after getting drunk— if Guan Zhiheng found out, he’d definitely accuse her of being “slothful and degenerate.”
Guan Yingtang rubbed her eyes groggily and looked around, then called out tentatively, “Kewei?”
As much as I wanted to experience Guangzhou’s nightlife, this isn’t my turf.
So last night, I made sure to find someone I could trust to be my “partner in crime.”
As my best friend from studying abroad, Jiang Kewei has seen the real me. With her, I never need to pretend.
I remember before I blacked out, Jiang Kewei said she’d get a cab to take me home.
Vaguely, I recall she even personally brought me back, and since it had been so long, I was so happy that I made her stay over.
I think… I even dragged her into bed with me to gossip.
No answer from the empty room. Guan Yingtang looked around for her phone on the nightstand.
It had been off since last night— who knew if her family had exploded yet.
As expected, once she powered up, her voicemail was filled with a string of calls and messages from Guan Zhiheng:
Guan Zhiheng: “How can you just leave like that and be so irresponsible?”
Guan Zhiheng: “You have 48 hours to come back!”
Guan Zhiheng: “Answer me!”
Guan Zhiheng had always been that way: imposing, forceful, but it wasn’t that he didn’t love her.
Since childhood, I was his precious jewel. For me, he would have reached for the stars or the moon.
But as the only girl in generations, he wanted me to be the Guan Family’s perfect face to the world.
As I grew up, the rules tightened, and our relationship grew distant.
Guan Yingtang didn’t reply to Guan Zhiheng. She called Jiang Kewei instead, but the line was busy.
Only then did she realize— her friend must have gotten up early for work.
So she didn’t call again. Getting out of bed, she saw she was still wearing last night’s cheongsam, reeking of smoke and alcohol from the nightclub.
Honestly, I never had any particular longing for nightclubs.
But when someone’s been repressed for so long, it’s easy to develop a rebellious urge toward “forbidden” things.
Turns out, there was nothing special about going to a nightclub.
My ears are still ringing, my head still buzzing.
She got out of bed, deciding to shower off the smell first.
But when she opened the closet, she remembered— she was in Guangzhou, in Meng Qinghuai’s house.
She’d left home so suddenly that she’d brought nothing but her ID.
Now, the spacious closet held only a few men’s shirts. Clearly, they belonged to Meng Qinghuai.
Between “wearing yesterday’s dirty clothes” and “making do with my plastic husband’s shirt,” I’ll take the latter.
Fortunately, aside from a lack of spare clothes, Meng Qinghuai’s home had everything else.
After a hot shower, she put on one of his shirts and headed downstairs for breakfast.
Just as she stepped out of the room, Jiang Kewei called her back.
Drying her wet hair with a towel, Guan Yingtang answered, “When did you leave? Did you have breakfast?”
She felt a bit guilty for making her friend stay over all night.
“Leave? Where?” Jiang Kewei had no idea what Guan Yingtang meant, but her gossip-loving tone was barely restrained. “What’s going on between you and Meng Qinghuai? Are you two dating?”
Guan Yingtang froze. “How did you know?”
“Aiyo, he carried you off right in front of me last night. I’d have to be an idiot not to figure it out!”
“…?” Guan Yingtang stood stunned in the corridor, her ears ringing, every word Jiang Kewei said more shocking than the last.
—Meng Qinghuai carried me away?
Wait, then who brought me home last night?
Who did I invite to stay the night?
Who did I drag into bed for a late-night chat?
A cold sweat broke out on Guan Yingtang’s back.
Clutching the towel nervously, she reached for the wall— only to find nothing there.
She realized she was standing in front of a study, the door open.
Guan Yingtang’s eyelid twitched, and she turned instinctively.
Sunlight filtered through the trees, scattering across the room.
The faint scent of ink lingered in the air.
That man sat quietly behind the desk, his shirt slightly open, his silhouette outlined coldly by the light.
Sensing her shocked stare, Meng Qinghuai looked up and met her eyes calmly. “Miss Guan, you’re awake?”
Guan Yingtang: “……”