A Twisted Love Affair-Chapter 116: Have you been bullied_1

The words were spoken without revealing any undercurrents.

"Cute, isn’t it?"

Shen Jing knew it was just polite small talk. She couldn’t drink because she had to drive and didn’t have a driver.

Seeing her silence, Wenxin didn’t continue to press the invitation. "If you’re not drinking, we’ll just play. Miss Shen, feel free to do as you like."

Indeed, quite at liberty.

The rich young ladies in their circle drank their wine and lived their privileged lives above others.

Shen Jing quietly played her own mahjong.

All returned to an atmosphere of serene normalcy.

Chen Yao finally breathed a sigh of relief.

It was normal for there to be no commotion; no one wanted to provoke Zhou Luchen for no reason.

Occasionally, Shen Jing would overhear conversations from their circle.

"Xinxin is studying for her MBA abroad, isn’t she going to come back and take over the family business? Is the Wei Group about to change its chairman?"

Wenxin leaned against the bar. "The Wei Family adheres to the tradition of primogeniture; where would I have the chance to take over?"

The Wei Family hadn’t abandoned the feudal notion of inheritance by the eldest legitimate son. In the past, as Zhou Luchen’s girlfriend, she had the confidence to have a say. But when it really came to the chairman’s position, her father favored the Wei Family’s males more.

At that moment, her friend added, "Mr. Zhou is the Wei Family’s largest shareholder, isn’t it? It wouldn’t be hard for him to allocate shares to anyone he wants."

Wenxin scoffed and poured herself another drink.

"Let’s not mention it, Achen’s little lady friend is still here. If you say too much and the young lady is unhappy, don’t blame me," she warned.

The young lady who mentioned Zhou Luchen realized she had said too much and glanced towards the mahjong table with a disgruntled expression.

One could offend anyone else, but not Zhou Luchen.

The young lady inquired of Wenxin in a low voice, "She wouldn’t tattle, would she?"

Would she? Would she dare? Wenxin was expressionless. "Drink up. We haven’t gathered in a long time; let’s not talk about irrelevant matters."

Shen Jing wasn’t paying attention to Wenxin’s direction, quietly focusing on her game.

As the game reached its latter half.

The door was suddenly opened, and they saw Zhou Luchen in a black shirt standing at the entrance, his suit jacket draped over his arm.

At that moment, everyone simultaneously turned to look at the door; within half a second, some greeted him while others were too nervous to make eye contact.

No matter the occasion, his presence instantly commanded respect and ingratiating flattery.

Even though he seemed indifferent, as if just attending a casual get-together.

Yet with his utterly relaxed and unbridled demeanor, he inspired wariness.

"Second Young Master, are you just done with a meeting?"

Zhou Luchen hummed in response.

Shen Jing lost interest in her cards, more intrigued by the scene near the doorway.

Wenxin had drunk too much, her cheeks slightly flushed. She was drunk, her lone and forlorn gaze fixed on Zhou Luchen. Her gaze was dazed, her feelings beyond her control.

The hand holding her wine glass was still trembling. She slurred as she questioned him, "Are you here to pick up your girl?"

Zhou Luchen paused. "What is it?"

"Which one of them is your girl?"

The next second, Wenxin’s body, limp as mud, failed to be supported by her high heels. She collapsed towards the bar, her limp arm accidentally knocking several empty glasses to the ground, which shattered with a loud CRASH.

Zhou Luchen’s gaze lowered to the glass shards by his leather shoes, and he frowned.

Wenxin’s friend seemed jittery as she hurriedly said to Zhou Luchen, "It’s been a while since we’ve all gathered, and she overindulged in the moment. This... I... apologize, it’s my fault for not looking after Xinxin properly."

Wenxin’s voice was nasal, her drunkenness palpable. "Don’t bother explaining to him. We’re not close. I dumped him. I was the one who didn’t want him."

Such an intriguing spectacle. Shen Jing stirred her fruit juice, stealthily peeking over.

This beauty dared to declare in front of everyone in the circle that it was she who had dumped Zhou Luchen.

The man at that moment showed no desire for victory; he was expressionless, silent.

In his heart, wasn’t he just indulging her?

Luckily, she hadn’t drunk; otherwise, she might have been the one drunkenly confronting Zhou Luchen right now.

"Xinxin," her friend helped support Wenxin, whispering quietly, "You’ve drunk too much. Let’s go home."

Wenxin propped her forehead with her hand, kept claiming she was fine, and stubbornly steadied herself against the bar, ready to leave.

Her arm was clearly reddened and bruised, likely in pain, her eyes swimming with drunkenness, yet she forcibly held back her tears.

Still, she couldn’t stand steady; her heels were too high, so she took them off.

"Zhuang Ming."

After Zhou Luchen spoke, he coldly kicked away the broken glass at his feet.

Everyone just watched as Zhuang Ming came in and escorted Wenxin away.

Zhuang Ming, facing this scene with both the new flame and the old flame present, was as unruffled as his boss—a seasoned player accustomed to tough situations.

Utter silence; no one spoke a word.

Including Shen Jing, who stared intently at Zhou Luchen’s expression, trying to find evidence of lingering feelings for his ex.

Indeed. Ever since he saw Wenxin, he hadn’t glanced this way even once.

Could he possibly pay attention to both at the same time?

Shen Jing rose, grabbing her bag and cellphone. As she passed by Zhou Luchen’s side, she mimicked him by kicking at the broken glass. "Aren’t you going to escort her personally, Second Master?"

Her sarcasm was blatant, yet she managed to smile, her eyes curving cheerfully.

Her temper, all flash and no substance, really lacked any true menace.

Zhou Luchen tossed his suit jacket into Shen Jing’s arms. "Hold this."

Shen Jing felt like tearing it to shreds and throwing it away. Huffing, she stomped slightly ahead of him, clearly angered.

Could Zhou Luchen not understand her jealousy? He did, but he didn’t care. She was the one by his side. Wasn’t that enough for her?

Zhou Luchen had just arrived and now had to leave.

No one inside the private room dared to keep him there.

Outside the club, it was pouring rain. Security had already prepared an umbrella.

Shen Jing stood for a while, then took the umbrella and walked down the stairs. "Let’s walk back."

She didn’t hold the umbrella very high. Zhou Luchen snatched it to hold it properly, his mood far from sharing her enthusiasm. "Stop fussing."

Shen Jing clutched at Zhou Luchen’s arm, gazing at him with eyes full of sultry reproach. "Can’t you accompany me for a while?"

Though he had verbally refused, Zhou Luchen couldn’t resist her charm.

The umbrella sheltered both their heads.

The driver silently followed behind in the car.

The rain intensified, pounding on the umbrella with a relentless PITTER-PATTER.

He freed one hand to wrap tightly around her waist as they walked in step.

Their figures melded together ambiguously, shrouded in misty rain, blending into the pitch-black night.

She, in a pure white pleated skirt, was the very image of a young girl untouched by the blemishes of time.

The streetlights of the city’s bustling, Westernized district elongated their shadows.

Shen Jing would glance at the man beside her from time to time. They say rakes carry stories; they love no one and merely enjoy their ambiguous games. Behind every womanizer lies a trail of emotional debts; they seem to love everyone but, in fact, only love themselves.

Which kind was Zhou Luchen?

She thought he was the former, yet he also possessed the latter’s cruel indulgence. If a girl encountered him, the careless affection and blatant favoritism he showed could inadvertently steal her heart.

He was the type to walk through a field of flowers, yet not a single petal would cling to him; not a speck of emotion touched him.

Noticing her gaze, Zhou Luchen slightly raised an eyebrow and asked with some semblance of conscience, "Did Miss Wei bully you?"

Shen Jing blurted out, "Yes."

Zhou Luchen laughed, seemingly unconcerned. "Who dares to bully my person?"

"She called you Achen," Shen Jing said, looking at him seriously.

Behind him stood the city’s high-rise buildings in the downpour. His stature was tall and straight, his broad shoulders seemingly capable of bearing the neon splendor of the entire metropolis.

The streetlight cast hazy shadows on half of his face, accentuating his thin lips and a well-defined brow—noble and profound.

She wanted to tell him why she no longer called him by that intimate nickname, Achen.

Because she minded.