“What does that mean?”
“Liang Jin… is together with…?”
The murmurs in the crowd grew louder.
Remembering Director Zheng’s instructions, Liang Jin hesitated and withdrew her hand pointing at Shen Keye.
She frowned. Her roommate was a fan of Shen Keye. Sometimes, after Liang Jin finished showering, she’d see her roommate sprawled on the bed watching footage of his matches. The close-up shots of his profile showed those cold eyes lighting up with a deep, predatory gleam only when they fixed on a target—like the brooding intensity of an incoming storm, dark clouds blotting out the sky.
Just like now. He was looking at her.
Liang Jin didn’t want to offend him.
Song Youhuai spotted her fear and sneered inwardly with contempt. “Liang Jin, why’d you stop pointing? Don’t tell me Ah-Ye slept with you.” He was certain Shen Keye wouldn’t intervene and fancied himself a champion of justice. “Liang Jin, you’re as cheap as the rumors say, and delusional to boot.”
The words cut deep. Liang Jin’s eyes flashed as she shot back, “Who’s delusional?”
Song Youhuai snapped, “Obviously—”
The girl rummaged in her canvas bag and tossed out a digital recorder.
A curious classmate hit play, and Song Youhuai’s feigned composure crumbled. The crowd erupted.
“Liang Jin, I like you.”
It was Song Youhuai’s voice. He poured out sweet confessions at first, but as her rejections mounted, his frustration boiled over into ugly insults, ending in outright degrading slurs that were too vile to repeat.
Song Youhuai never dreamed she’d recorded it all—and played it back so brazenly, without a shred of shame. His face twisted in fury.
He itched to drop his polished facade and slap her. He lunged forward to grab her arm. “Liang Jin, you—”
She flung him off and stared him down, her voice low. “Song Youhuai, you’re not annoying. You’re just utterly worthless.”
With others watching, Song Youhuai swallowed his rage. “You’ll regret this.”
He shot another glare at Shen Keye, then stormed off.
A throbbing vein bulged on his forehead. He was unrecognizable from his usual self.
~~~
“Damn, Jinjin, you’re insane,” Wu Lin said. She’d just finished rehearsing for club activities and glanced at social media, nearly fainting. “You actually pointed at the Crown Prince’s face and accused him of sleeping with you?”
In the backstage area of Ulta, Liang Jin stood outside Manager Luo’s office, frowning. Right after Song Youhuai had stormed off in a rage, Manager Luo had summoned her.
Not far away, Shen Keye hadn’t left. He lounged casually on the black leather sofa like a master effortlessly redirecting force, as others plied him with drinks.
Wu Lin recalled the rumors circulating among the girls and grew worried. “He didn’t do anything to you, did he?”
Liang Jin’s heart skipped. “Why do you ask that?”
Wu Lin was a gossip magnet and wasn’t taking chances. She scurried to a corner and whispered, “Pissing off Song Youhuai is no big deal, but don’t mess with Shen Keye. Tons of girls at school crush on him, but not one’s ever landed him. I told my boyfriend, but he didn’t believe me. A club senior I know saw it herself—a girl stripped naked and snuck into his car, that forty-million Koenigsegg. Shen Keye just tossed her out and had the cops haul her away. Then he scrapped the car. Can you imagine being that ruthless?”
Liang Jin frowned.
Wu Lin kept going. “And Shen Keye… he’s got some weird quirks.”
“Weird quirks?”
“I heard it from my boyfriend’s buddy. It’s wild. You ever hear of the Abandoned Cat Effect?” Wu Lin thought back. “It’s some psychology thing—cats that get dumped once become super clingy and obedient if someone picks them up again, terrified of being abandoned twice.”
Liang Jin asked, “What’s that got to do with him?”
“Word is, the Crown Prince had a cat as a kid. Spoiled it rotten—fed it fish imported from Hokkaido, toys that cost tens or hundreds of thousands. He was super controlling about where it slept and for how long. Less than a year in, he just… ditched it. Drove the poor thing into depression. It ended up waiting to die on a snowy road in winter and got run over.”
Liang Jin’s brows knitted tight as Wu Lin’s worried voice continued over the phone.
“Someone like that isn’t gonna let you badmouth him in public without consequences!”
This man—
The girl glanced back. Not far away, the young man smiled faintly. His narrow eyes caught her gaze and narrowed further, sending a brief, mocking smirk from the corner—cold and derisive.
Her heart clenched hard.
An indescribable feeling washed over her.
Liang Jin knew Shen Keye was far beyond someone she could afford to provoke.
~~~
Outside the window, relentless, wailing rain lashed the bushes.
Manager Luo emerged from his phone call with his superior and spoke to Liang Jin earnestly in Cantonese. “Liang Jin, this is a big deal today. You’ve offended the boss’s friend, and it’s a mess that’s hard to clean up. If things go south, you could lose your job!”
Liang Jin knew that all too well. She apologized to Manager Luo first. “I’m sorry.”
She had things she wanted to do, and she could weigh priorities clearly. This was the result after careful consideration.
Manager Luo knew Liang Jin too well. He pointed at her, his finger hovering there, before finally letting out a long sigh as if releasing pent-up tension.
“You…”
His words trailed off as a crisp “knock knock” sounded—someone tapping the wall with their knuckles.
Following the direction along the doorframe, Liang Jin spotted the young man standing in the distance under the eaves in the rain.
His cool features, straight nose with a sharp, deep outline—he was tilting his head, watching her with clear ill intent.
Shen Keye’s thin lips were pressed together. His eyelids had shallow folds, slightly lowered, and he stood there at a distance looking utterly nonchalant as he said to the manager, “Have her come over.”
Liang Jin was momentarily stunned. His distinctively knuckled hand pointed straight at her forehead.
Shen Keye rarely deigned to visit a second-rate place like Ulta. Manager Luo froze, realizing he had come to settle scores, and tried to speak up for Liang Jin. “Young Master Shen, our Little Liang…”
Shen Keye cut him off coldly. “Bring the bill. The 1841 Veuve Clicquot Champagne.”
He had shattered the champagne on display in the main hall with a dart.
Manager Luo’s brow furrowed, then his face lit up with sudden delight. He gave Liang Jin a push, hinting, “Go settle the bill.” Lowering his voice, he lectured her, “It’s two hundred forty grand for the night. Secure your job first.”
The R&B background music blared noisily in the distant hall, but here it was quiet, save for the sound of rain. Liang Jin said, “Mr. Shen, I’m sorry for the earlier incident involving you. I hope it didn’t ruin your meal.”
The young man had his hands in his pockets, looking down at her with a scoff as he repeated, “Sorry?”
Shen Keye’s gaze was faint, as if appraising her. “Nothing else you want to say to me?”
Liang Jin met his eyes steadily, figuring an explanation wouldn’t help. She simply said, “It was a misunderstanding.”
The usual fixes were meal vouchers or discounts for guests, but the young man before her didn’t seem to need them.
Shen Keye suddenly curved his thin lips into a smile at her composed tone. He leaned in and asked, “Little girl, did you just say you slept with me?”
As he drew close, the sharp, biting scent of cedar invaded her senses—clear, bitter, and cold. His deep, magnetic voice carried a hint of laughter.
Liang Jin jumped in fright.
The young man’s pitch-black eyes stared at her emotionlessly, drawing her in completely with an overwhelming sense of invasion, mingled with his dominant masculine presence. Liang Jin felt every hair on her body stand on end; she grew dizzy, her heart racing.
His tone was mild, yet laced with sarcasm.
“You sure have some imagination.”
Liang Jin frowned, recalling he might be connected to the film industry, and added, “I can make it up to you.”
The young man let out a light chuckle.
In her line of sight, Shen Keye reached out a hand.
Liang Jin didn’t blink, bracing herself and ready to dodge whatever he intended.
But Shen Keye merely snatched the bill.
Veins stood out powerfully on the back of his hand, and there was a callus at the base of his thumb—a mark from years of shooting practice. He took the bill, signing “Shen Keye” with elegant, sharp strokes. Two hundred forty thousand—an amount that represented a year or more of income for most families—was wiped away with those three words.
Liang Jin stared at the signature. “I’m sorry, Shen Keye.”
She pronounced his name clearly in standard Mandarin.
“What’s your name?”
Liang Jin, wary he might come after her later, didn’t mention they were classmates. “Liang Jin.”
“Liang Jin.”
He said her name—deep and magnetic, clear and crisp, drawn out slowly, in Cantonese. The pronunciation of “Lang’Gin” was unlike anyone else’s, with a serious, uniquely intent tone and inflection, like ice cracking sharply against something hard on a winter night.
Liang Jin looked up at him, startled awake.
He handed back the bill, a smile tugging at Shen Keye’s lips as he said warmly, “You’ve offended me, Liang Jin.”
It was like marking something he despised.
With that, he turned and melted back into the crowd.
Liang Jin clenched her sweaty palms, feeling bewildered yet alert. She lifted her gaze, her breathing slowing only after the fact.
~~~
“Jinjin, your SNS reputation is turning around. Congrats.”
The next day, the rain from last night had stopped. At the edge of Weiyuan Lake, the ginkgo trees battered by the storm lay in ruins, their pale yellow leaves scattered and shattered across the ground.
“Master, one Jade Spirit Paste and half a Purple Rice Cake.”
Liang Jin took a bite of the Purple Rice Cake as she slung her canvas bag over her shoulder and answered her phone on the way to the theater.
“Isn’t that Liang Jin?”
“Keep your voice down.”
Last night’s incident had blown up. Plenty of people now knew the ugly rumors about Liang Jin were fabrications, though skeptics remained, spouting self-righteous nonsense like: 【The truth can’t be faked. Flies don’t land on a seamless egg.】