A Twisted Love Affair-Chapter 193: Do you hope it’s Shen Jing who appears, right?"_1

Chapter 193: Do you hope it’s Shen Jing who appears, right?"_1

Later on, Shen Jing truly had no time to return to Shanghai and seemed to have cut off everything related to that city, unwilling to reminisce.

When she did think about it, thoughts of Zhou Luchen’s affection made her heart soften easily.

She couldn’t remember the exact date. It seemed like a very long time since she had seen Luchen, nor had she received any messages from him.

She had stopped browsing foreign websites.

There was no point. Others were handling his scandals for him now.

「New York, the north shore of Long Island. The Imperial Manor.」

An executive Rolls-Royce parked below the manor.

Zhou Luchen returned from a drinking party, having had liquor, his body carrying a hint of the muddled aroma of brandy—rich and potent.

Zhuang Ming prepared hangover soup for him, but he pushed it away without saying a word.

On the second-floor terrace of the manor, the eagle circling high in the sky saw its master return home. It quickly descended in a straight line and perched on the angel sculpture next to the man.

The eagle’s wings gave a FLUTTER. It was a pure-blooded Haidongqing.

When Zhuang Ming chose it, he had picked the most ferocious one.

The eagle, originally raised in Switzerland, hadn’t adapted well to New York. It hid in basements and rooms, and even flew away for days and nights without returning.

Luchen didn’t care. He acted as if he would just let it go, saying coldly, "Let it starve to death."

The eagle, accustomed to thrice-daily feasts of top-grade fresh meat, could find no such luxuries nearby. It obediently flew home, now somewhat subdued.

But what did its return matter?

Luchen strictly prohibited the staff from feeding the eagle.

So it starved, withering away.

Only when Wenxin appeared and took careful care of this violent and ferocious bird did it settle down and stop wandering far.

Whether dealing with people, handling emotions, or navigating the business world, Luchen always easily identified and controlled the other party’s critical vulnerabilities, thereby asserting his dominance.

The Haidongqing eagle shrieked. Luchen, looking detached, glanced over and instructed Zhuang Ming to throw it a piece of meat.

A pair of tender, boneless hands wrapped around his waist from behind, pressing against his back.

Wenxin greedily inhaled the alcohol scent on him. She was fascinated by many different Zhou Luchens: the one fiercely sweating in wild abandon, the one sitting earnestly at his desk working, and him slightly tipsy from brandy...

Profound, obscure, lonely, sinful—it was the inherent depravity within his bones.

"Why did you come back so late? How much did you drink?" she asked.

He lowered his gaze to the small hands on his abdomen, his eyes suddenly hazy. With a hoarse chuckle, he muttered a name, "Ajing."

Whether he had called that woman’s name intentionally or subconsciously mistook her for that woman, Wenxin felt a complex mix of emotions. Yet, she held them back, stepping in front of him and looking directly at his inebriated self. "Take a good look. See who I am. Am I your Ajing?"

Luchen, appearing drunk yet not, had lucid, shining black eyes; he was clearly sober.

He leaned in, meeting Wenxin’s gaze from a close distance. "Why is it you again?"

The masculine hormonal scent, mixed with the warm, sweet aroma of liquor, enveloped her, clouding her rationality with its heady ambiguity.

Gently, Wenxin began to loosen his tie. "You wish it was Shen Jing, don’t you?"

The Long Island night breeze blew around them as Luchen leaned casually against the railing, allowing her to tenderly undo his tie.

Wei Wenxin, oh Wei Wenxin, why don’t you ever get angry? You’re like a puppet without strings. So uninteresting.

Is there any point in getting angry? She’s in the past. Perhaps tomorrow, when he’s drunk, he’ll be calling out the young model Joanna’s name.

That’s just how he was, always making it impossible for people to guess what he was really thinking.

Wenxin hid the hurt in her eyes, her cold laughter a mask, as she patiently took his tie and handed it to Zhuang Ming.

"Mention my name in front of Shen Jing and see if she gets angry," she said.

He laughed, a faint, indifferent sound. "How dare I mention you in front of her? You’re the most formidable. The moment you appear, she panics. You terrify her."

As Wenxin unfastened a couple of his shirt buttons to help him cool down, the light in her eyes dimmed at his words.

"I didn’t bully her; I didn’t force her away," she said. "She left on her own, realizing she couldn’t make it to the end with you. You’ve already had your fun with her, haven’t you?"

His smile faded a bit.

This scion of a noble family lived amidst worldly temptations, yet he could detach himself at will. He squandered his fickle affections, indifferent to whom he hurt. It was as if, beyond the Zhou Family and the corporation, nothing else mattered to him.

Slowly, Wenxin lifted her head and softly told him, "Let’s get married. Grandmother has already chosen a date."

With a touch of malice, Luchen inquired, "With you?"

"Then who do you want it to be?" she probed.

Luchen rested his arms on the balustrade, his posture utterly languid. "It’s the same with anyone."

Wenxin quietly stared at him. In his world, it truly didn’t matter whom the Zhou Family arranged for him to marry; after all, he loved no one. He was indifferent to whomever the Zhou Family chose. She knew his temperament, knew that his heart was cold and impenetrable, yet she still wanted to be his wife.

"Do you ever feel tired, Zhou Luchen?" she asked.