He saw over thirty cigarette butts stuffed in the ashtray and exchanged a surprised glance with Jiang Feng.
“Bored.”
“Lanfeng, are you sure it’s just boredom and not because of a woman?” Jiang Feng poured himself a drink.
Meeting Jian Lanfeng’s gaze, he became even more certain he wasn’t mistaken.
If there was anyone who could affect Jian Lanfeng like this, it was probably only Li Qiao.
Jian Lanfeng didn’t respond.
He kept smoking and drinking.
Song Jinzhao burst into laughter. “Alright, whatever the reason, the three of us aren’t leaving tonight until we’re drunk. Women are nothing but fleeting clouds anyway. There are some new girls here—I’ll call them in to lighten the mood.”
Soon, six young, beautiful women entered the private room.
“Whoever can put him in a good mood tonight gets 500,000 in cash.”
The girls’ eyes lit up, and they eagerly swarmed around Jian Lanfeng.
Song Jinzhao, lounging on the side with a cigarette between his fingers, smirked.
But as the women closed in, Jian Lanfeng’s veins bulged on his forehead. “Get out!” he snapped.
The girls froze, then turned to Song Jinzhao for guidance.
When they hesitated and tried to coax him again, Jian Lanfeng hurled his glass to the floor, shattering it.
The room fell dead silent.
“Tch, fine. Our Young Master Jian doesn’t want company. You girls can entertain us instead.”
With beauties in their arms, the other two men indulged—some massaging their shoulders, others feeding them fruit and wine. They were having the time of their lives.
Jiang Feng, however, found the women a headache—especially after witnessing Li Qiao’s encounter with the ghost bride.
“All of you, out. Go collect your tips from Sister Hong.”
“Thank you, Young Master Jiang.”
Once the women were gone, Song Jinzhao grumbled, “Jiang Feng, you’re ruthless. At least leave me a couple. They’re clean—I was planning to take two to a hotel later. You just ruined my threesome.”
“Abstinence isn’t a bad thing,” Jiang Feng said flatly.
“Rather kill me than make me abstain. You stay here with Lanfeng. I’ll be back.”
“…”
Jiang Feng snatched the glass from Jian Lanfeng’s hand. “Lanfeng, you’re upset because of Li Qiao, aren’t you?”
Jian Lanfeng, cigarette dangling from his lips, narrowed his eyes.
“She doesn’t like me.”
Damn.
So Lanfeng really did like Li Qiao. On the surface, they did seem like a good match.
But—
Li Qiao wasn’t an ordinary woman.
“Lanfeng, to be honest, you and Li Qiao aren’t compatible. She’s a Taoist priest—she deals with ghosts and monsters. Maybe you should consider someone else.”
“You don’t understand what she means to me.”
“…”
Fine, dismissed again.
In Jiang Feng’s eyes, the two really weren’t suited. He could tell there was something unusual between He Jingnian and Li Qiao.
“Sometimes, persistence isn’t the right path.”
“How will I know if I don’t try?”
Jiang Feng felt exhausted.
Jian Lanfeng was dead set on pursuing Li Qiao.
But Li Qiao’s temper, though seemingly mild, was ruthless when provoked. What if she used the same methods she used on ghosts… on Lanfeng?
The thought was too horrifying to imagine.
“Let’s go home.”
After finishing his drink, Jian Lanfeng left the club.
The Jian Residence
Jian Fengchun had been waiting in the study for a long time. Taking a deep breath, Jian Lanfeng pushed open the door—only for an inkstone to come flying straight at his forehead.
Blood trickled down into his eyes and nose, but Jian Lanfeng remained expressionless, ignoring the wound and the stains.
“Father, what did you want to discuss?”
Jian Fengchun acted as if he hadn’t just injured his son, his voice sharp. “What’s going on with Li Qiao and He Jingnian? How could you let someone steal your fiancée?”
“I don’t know!”
“How could you not know? Li Qiao is your fiancée!”
