In the vast cabin of the cruise ship, several young gentlemen had set up a poker table in the hall.
Half an hour into the voyage, Liang Jin leaned against the railing, gazing out at the skyline.
Online public opinion shifted in the blink of an eye. With a cold expression, Liang Jin scrolled through her social media feed. The distant lighthouse barely illuminated the outline of her profile. It was the first time she’d seen everyone united in such fierce condemnation of a man.
Some were even calling for a scumbag like Song Youhuai to drop dead.
Meanwhile, Song Youhuai…
This outing was casual. The hall was filled mostly with young people, including the Song siblings, Song Youqing and Song Youhuai.
Song Youhuai was completely immersed in the card game.
He seemed utterly oblivious.
“Having fun?”
After his meeting with Song Youqing, Shen Keye received a call from Shen Junbang. The man’s tone was foul; Shen Keye grasped the situation after just a brief listen.
Liang Jin was still staring at her phone, the screen’s glow highlighting the delicate features of her face. She turned her gaze slightly and flashed a faint smile—one that was sharply aggressive, cold and alluring at once. “Which thing are you talking about?”
Shen Keye leaned against the railing and stated the facts plainly. “Liang Jin, you’ve stirred up some trouble for me.”
When the young man’s eyelids drooped, he gave off an aloof, disdainful chill. He said bluntly, “And you helped Jiang Manyu.”
His tone dripped with mockery. Liang Jin paused briefly at his words. Shen Keye’s sources were almost too well-informed.
“So, what do you plan to do about me?” Liang Jin switched off her phone, her pursed lips curving slightly as she asked, “You schemed against me, so tit for tat—I used you a bit in return. Fair, isn’t it?”
Shen Keye already had more than enough problems of his own.
The one she’d added wasn’t excessive.
Liang Jin simply didn’t love him. No great sin in that.
Shen Keye braced his arms and stared at her coldly. Abruptly, his eyelids lowered as he let out a soft scoff. “Not bad at all.”
Beneath the cover of night, as the young man chuckled, the tiny black mole on the left side of his nose bridge blurred into shadow. He leaned in closer, his shoulder brushing her slender one. Liang Jin lifted her eyes uncomfortably—their breaths were so near now. He showed no real anger; if anything, it was indulgent. In a light, breezy tone, he remarked, “You’ve gotten some guts.”
~~~
In the hall, Shao Xingyu glanced impatiently up to the second floor, where a short-haired woman was chatting with someone.
“Ah-Ye.”
As soon as Shen Keye stepped through the door, Song Youqing exchanged a few pleasantries with her friends and descended the stairs at a leisurely pace.
She was a genuine socialite heiress, dressed in chic white Chanel with a gentle, serene beauty reminiscent of calm waters.
She said softly, “We’ve got three more hours till we dock.”
Lately, the movie Hong Kong Ballet had been the talk of the town across Hong Kong. From ragtag tabloids to prestige papers, every front page was dominated by it. Song Youqing’s close girlfriends had been pestering her, asking if the family-backed film was on the verge of some massive scandal.
She asked, “Is the movie a done deal?”
Shen Keye’s gaze flicked toward Liang Jin nearby. Shao Xingyu had brought her to join in the games, but for some reason, she’d ended up at Song Youhuai’s table. Rather than play along with Song Youqing, he said, “I believe I told him to stay put.”
Song Youqing followed his line of sight, her eyes narrowing on Song Youhuai.
She pursed her lips. “Ah-Ye, this trip is to see Mom. You can’t very well start a fight with me in front of her.”
Flatly, Song Youqing added, “That girl A-Huai likes—you like her too?”
Shen Keye stood there, giving Song Youqing a quick once-over. They actually looked quite alike, but their auras couldn’t have been more different. The young man betrayed no hint of a smile. “What are you getting at?”
Song Youqing didn’t flare up. Instead, she said, “Uncle blew up this afternoon over the Jiang Manyu business and called me. He mentioned a solid movie project that’s already blanketed Hong Kong with promo, and asked if I wanted to take the reins. I’m betting it’s this one.”
She paused, eyes narrowing, her tone airy yet pointed. “If I do take it over, I might just yank the funding entirely. After all, I really don’t care for this Miss Liang.”
She spoke with mild composure and grave intent, every word crisp and clear.
But Shen Keye looked almost amused. He shot her a sidelong glance, let out a cold chuckle, and asked coolly, “Song Youqing, what is it you want this time?”
“Shen Keye, what do you think?”
In truth, what they had been vying for from the very beginning was one and the same.
Song Youqing had never given up.
Under the brilliant lights, the cruise ship’s opulent decor gleamed in extravagant splendor.
Liang Jin had been covertly sizing up Shen Keye for quite some time.
The vibe at this table was all wrong—especially with Song Youhuai there.
His mood had soured the instant she took her seat.
Liang Jin collected the poker cards from the round when someone suddenly called out to her. “Miss Liang.”
She turned her head slightly, a touch puzzled, and saw Song Youqing approaching with a smile. “Mind if we add two chairs?”
This round was a simple game of Truth or Dare. Liang Jin had originally just joined in for the fun, but for some unknown reason, as soon as the two newcomers—Song Youqing and Shen Keye—sat down, everyone at the table fell silent.
The rules were straightforward: draw cards and compare their values, with the highest card holder posing a question to the one with the lowest.
Song Youqing shuffled the deck. The cards hadn’t even been dealt when she spoke up.
Song Youqing placed the final card in front of Liang Jin. Liang Jin slowly lifted her gaze, meeting the woman’s gentle eyes. “You’re the female lead in that movie our family invested in, right, Miss Liang?” Song Youqing asked.
Liang Jin glanced at Shen Keye, who lounged lazily in his seat with his head tilted to one side.
Liang Jin gave a soft “Mm.”
“You’ve offended me,” Song Youqing said coldly, her words laden with heavy implication. In an instant, the entire room went deathly quiet, the only sound the distant “buzz” of ships slicing through the chilly air outside.
“My brother Song Youhuai suffered because of you,” Song Youqing continued. “He had to take a leave of absence from school.”
Across the table, Song Youhuai’s eyes reddened at her words. He said nothing, only clenched his fists in silence.
Liang Jin found the situation absurd. “Has Miss Song come to settle scores?” she countered.
“No,” Song Youqing replied. “I just want to ask you a few questions.”
Song Youqing didn’t care whether Liang Jin wanted to answer. She cut straight to the chase:
“Are you single, Miss Liang?”
“Did you earn the female lead role through your own efforts?”
“Have you ever sold your body or soul to obtain something you didn’t deserve?”
She clutched the undealt poker cards, her words rapid but delivered in a gentle tone. “When was your last kiss, and was it with someone here?”
No one dared challenge her. On the surface, Song Youqing was the heiress of the Port District Song Family. But most people at the table knew she was also Shen Junbang’s most favored niece and the Crown Prince’s own sister.
Liang Jin watched Shen Keye’s reaction. Without a word, he snatched the poker cards from Song Youqing’s hand.
His long, bony fingers rested over the high-quality golden cards. He slowly raised his dark eyes, utterly emotionless, and let out a wry chuckle. “Big Sis, shouldn’t we follow the game rules for something like this?”
Shen Keye laid down the Q&A rules. “Four questions mean four rounds. Answer only if you lose.”
Shen Keye made the decision without asking Liang Jin’s opinion, but she showed no fear. He dealt the cards to her.
First round: Jack of Clubs against Ace of Hearts. Song Youqing held the advantage.
—Are you single, Miss Liang?
This was Song Youqing’s question.
Liang Jin rubbed the flat surface of her card. “No,” she said.
The second and third rounds went to Liang Jin.
Fourth round.
Song Youqing held the advantage.
The woman grew visibly impatient. “Speak,” she demanded coldly.
Liang Jin looked at Song Youqing. She hated airing her private life, but the weight of unyielding authority pressed down on her.
The group of accompanying guys nearby feigned disinterest while eavesdropping. A few even pulled out their phones to sneak recordings.
Suddenly, someone spoke up for her. “Today at noon. Twelve-oh-one and seventeen seconds.”
The whispers stopped dead.
Liang Jin hadn’t expected Shen Keye to remember it so precisely.
The young man dangled the remaining cards as he leaned back in the European-style chair, legs crossed, eyes idly downcast.
Song Youqing’s tone dripped with sarcasm as she pressed on, though she already knew the answer. “With whom?”
Shen Keye let out a light chuckle. “Song Youqing, you don’t have the right to ask questions right now.”
…
The absurd game didn’t continue. In the span of just one round, the tide of online opinion had shifted once more.
Someone posted the secretly recorded card game on social media. They deliberately obscured Song Youqing’s face, centering the video on Liang Jin. Jiang Manyu was forgotten entirely, and the focus now locked onto the supposed love triangle between Song Youhuai, Liang Jin, and Shen Keye.
“The cemetery is near Macau Port. We’ll go there to pay our respects,” Shen Keye informed her.
Liang Jin’s phone wouldn’t stop ringing as he spoke.
Director Zheng was livid, ranting that Liang Jin’s reputation had thoroughly tainted the movie’s promotional buzz.
“It’s too early to say that, Director Zheng,” Liang Jin replied.
The online backlash hadn’t spread far yet—not enough people knew. It could still be salvaged.
Liang Jin spoke up. “Ah-Ye, Miss Song doesn’t seem to be targeting me. She’s gunning for you.”
The ship was nearing the dock, endless starlight vanishing behind roiling dark clouds.
Shen Keye glanced at her. “So?”
“Suppress the online noise,” she said. Normally, Shen Keye’s name wouldn’t even surface online. “I don’t want anything derailing the movie’s production.”
Her cold, pragmatic words drew a scoff from Shen Keye.
“What’s the price?” he asked.
Liang Jin furrowed her brow slightly. She drew closer, rose onto her tiptoes, and whispered, “Shen Keye… was I your first kiss too?”
She realized that the man before her still craved intimate contact, even though she didn’t share his enthusiasm.
But it was a shame—Shen Keye’s scent seemed impossible to shake from her breath.
Even she herself bore his temporary brand.
She was his.
They were too close. The reddish crescent moon cast a faint glow as the young man raised his hand to caress her cheek. Shen Keye’s breath hitched for a moment. The girl’s allure was unpolished, her lips merely brushing his lightly, yet they were soft and tender, like peeling back Liang Jin’s tough exterior to reveal the vibrant heart beneath, pulsing fiercely within its fleshy cage.
Shen Keye refused to answer.
Liang Jin gazed at him intently, not pulling away. Instead, she asked, “Is that enough?”
A prolonged silence stretched between them.
In the nearby hall, Song Youhuai had just learned from his sister about the online firestorm. Furious, he shoved through the crowd, grilling the servers about whether they’d seen Liang Jin. His voice grew nearer.
Shen Keye’s eyes flicked toward the intruders, and he tugged her into a shadowed corner.
“What’s wrong?” Liang Jin asked.
No sooner had the words left her mouth than she heard Song Youhuai’s angry shouts.
Song Youhuai scanned the room frantically.
Oblivious to the fact that just one wall away, Shen Keye had his hand around Liang Jin’s neck, kissing her fiercely. A surging wave of panic and thrill crashed over her like a spring flood invading the dead of winter.
Liang Jin struggled for breath, her entire body trembling. She never imagined Shen Keye would kiss her like a madman, his tongue forcing past her lips and teeth.
A strange heat bloomed inside her, unfamiliar and overwhelming. She still couldn’t stomach his scent, nor the relentless sense of invasion from his masculine presence.
A needle-sharp pain stabbed through her mind, conjuring a nightmare-clear memory: the day she’d caught Liang Wenbin cheating.
In the dim room, bodies intertwined, a woman’s shrill cries. Liang Wenbin pulled away, stark naked and utterly unashamed, striding over to slap her across the face without a second thought.
Liang Jin reeled, still in her school uniform, a stack of mock exam papers needing his signature spilling from her backpack onto the floor.
Her cheek burned with fiery pain.
“Shen Keye.”
Liang Jin blinked, her body quaking as she whispered his name.
“I don’t want this to blow up,” she demanded softly. “Handle it quickly.”
She only wanted to be his secret girlfriend.
“Shh,” Shen Keye murmured.
Talk like that was such a buzzkill.
“You’ve already kissed me,” Liang Jin shot back bluntly.
Twice.
Shen Keye chuckled.
Playfulness gathered in his dark eyes as he pressed a hand to the back of her neck. Without agreeing or refusing outright, he lowered his gaze and murmured, “Breathe harder for me, and I’ll think about it.”