“Who’s that girl next to Brother Ye? His girlfriend?”
“No way, Brother Xingyu never mentioned anything…”
Across the Training Field, a few guys stared at Liang Jin while gossiping. One of them nudged the person beside him. “Zhang Xiaoran, she’s totally your type—looks too beautiful to be real. You didn’t even go ask for her number?”
“I did.”
Zhang Xiaoran had made a beeline for Liang Jin the moment he spotted her. He had no clue what had gotten into Shen Keye, but he pouted anyway. “Brother Ye won’t let me near her.”
Someone let out a tsk. The coach yelled from nearby, ordering them to start physical training.
Liang Jin had just stepped outside to call her coworker at Ulta and confirm her shift. She still had to head there for her part-time job tonight.
Shen Keye was practicing dry-firing his air gun when Liang Jin returned from the vending machine with two bottles of Nestlé Coffee. Caffeine was her go-to for anxiety. She handed one to him. “Here.”
He glanced at it and turned it down. “I don’t drink sweet stuff.”
Shen Keye’s phone lay carelessly to the side, buzzing seven or eight times already. Liang Jin had no idea who was calling, but she cared more about it than he did. She didn’t want any unnecessary drama.
She poked a straw into her canned drink and asked outright, “Shen Keye, what kind of girls do you like?”
Her question was bold and direct. Shen Keye tilted his head. The girl’s delicate features carried a cool mist-like detachment as she stared straight at him.
Her eyes hid nothing.
Shen Keye met her gaze and smirked lazily, his words loaded with implication. “Forward ones.”
Forward ones.
Liang Jin frowned in frustration. After a moment’s thought, she lifted her slender finger and pointed toward the distant target. In a soft voice, she said, “Didn’t you say last time you’d compete with me in shooting?”
She continued, “You saw through me—I don’t know how to shoot. To make it fair, once I learn, we can have our match.”
Shen Keye seemed intrigued by her words. “Mm. So?”
Liang Jin’s emotions were a tangled mix, but her tone stayed even and earnest. “Shen Keye, I’m giving you a chance. Teach me.”
Her palm-sized face held a stubborn glint in her eyes.
Shen Keye raised a brow. He slowly packed up his gear and stepped over to her side.
His tall, carefree frame towered nearly six feet, backlit so his dark shadow enveloped her completely. Liang Jin froze, wondering if she’d miscalculated. Her breath caught as she looked up into his eyes.
The guy’s gaze was pitch-black, landing on her with tangible weight.
Shen Keye narrowed his eyes. “Liang Jin, what do you want?”
He always saw right through her. Liang Jin regretted chugging so much coffee—her heart was racing. “You heard me. Ulta fired me, but Mom’s sick and I’ve got credit card debt. Without this job, I can’t pay it off. Shen Keye, you’re tight with the boss. Help me keep it.”
She delivered the line flatly, like an order laced with irritation at her circumstances and an awkward hint of familiarity.
The girl pressed her lips together, recalling his preference for “forward” girls. Softening her tone, she looked away. “I’ll butter you up. Please help me.”
Shen Keye let out a soft huff of laughter—sounding a bit satisfied, a bit mocking. But he didn’t reply.
He had someone fetch a BB gun, the kind of informal toy-grade equipment.
He didn’t pull any sleazy moves like some eighteen- or nineteen-year-old guy might in her imagination. He just taught her a couple pointers from a careful distance.
Following the coach’s instructions, Liang Jin quickly hit the target. But she deliberately straightened up and fired two shots wide.
The Beijing-Accent Boy who’d hit on her earlier watched from the sidelines. When she missed, Zhang Xiaoran hurried over with advice. “Hey! Little sis, your stance is off. Lean forward from the side like this—otherwise, you can’t aim right.”
Liang Jin murmured an “mm” and glanced to her side.
Shen Keye remained indifferent, continuing his own training.
Frustrated, Liang Jin pressed him a bit harder. “Shen Keye, got any tips?”
Shen Keye wore protective goggles, his baseball cap pinning down his messy black hair. He squeezed the trigger. “You’re so smart. You can figure it out just by watching.”
Liang Jin shot back urgently, “I haven’t figured it out.”
No one could master pinpoint accuracy after a few tries.
She insisted, “Teach me.”
Shen Keye’s gaze flicked to her from the corner of his eye, carrying a judging edge. “Do you want me to teach you, or are you asking for something in return?”
His light, mocking smile was ambiguous.
Liang Jin thought of how Jiang Manyu had fired her and gritted her teeth. “I’ll be working at Ulta tonight. Will you come with me?”
Shen Keye paused, as if remembering something. “Nah.”
He probably wasn’t going to help.
Liang Jin felt a surge of annoyance. She set down the gear, removed her goggles, and said, “I’m out.”
She took two steps before Shen Keye’s voice stopped her. “Leaving already?”
Her tone was flat. “Next time.”
It was about time for her shift anyway.
Next time it was.
“Liang Jin,” he said, “sniping takes real patience.”
He was singling her out.
Liang Jin was nearly suffocating under the pressure. She turned her head and caught sight of the young man’s profile. Shen Keye said coolly, “We’re waiting for the target to walk right into the trap, to fall completely into the cage.”
That evening, Liang Jin headed to Ulta for her shift alone. The lobby buzzed with raucous laughter and crude banter. Most of the men and women lounging in the booths were familiar faces, but none drew the eye quite like Jiang Manyu, holding court in the center.
“Manyu, back from Shanghai and about to become a big star?”
Someone chimed in, “Too bad Ah-Ye couldn’t make it.”
Jiang Manyu explained, “He’s tied up with training.”
The gathering was in celebration of her exchange program from Shanghai to Hong Kong, drawing a lively crowd. Jiang Manyu fielded the compliments with polished grace. Then her gaze landed on the girl arriving for the evening shift. She froze, furrowed her brow, and called out, “Liang Jin?”
The girl had lustrous black hair and porcelain skin, her tall figure exuding an aloof, otherworldly poise. Liang Jin looked like she belonged to a finer world, though a shadow of gloom lingered in her expression. Right now, she hunched over the high bar counter in the corner, tallying accounts.
“You know her, Manyu?”
One of the young men glanced at the girl in the corner, sneering. “How could Manyu not know her? You forgot—that role was one Liang Jin was too lowly for, so Manyu stepped in to save the day.”
A few snickers followed his mocking words.
Jiang Manyu told them not to speak carelessly, then rose and approached Liang Jin with a greeting. “Miss Liang, we meet again.”
Jiang Manyu apparently hadn’t yet heard that Shen Keye had messaged Shen Junbang about swapping the female lead. Liang Jin kept her expression neutral; she’d just suffered a setback with Shen Keye. Suppressing her irritation, she asked, “Is there something I can help you with?”
They’d traded barbs just recently, and Jiang Manyu clearly harbored disdain for her. “I’ve heard some interesting things these past few days,” Jiang Manyu said with a beaming smile. “Ah-Ye had A-Huai drop out of school for your sake. Quite the charm you have, Liang Jin.”
Her lowered voice dripped with sarcasm.
Jiang Manyu smiled faintly. “My stance hasn’t changed, Liang Jin. I want you to leave the Hong Kong District as soon as possible. Otherwise, you’ll be fired from Ulta tonight.” She enunciated each word, revealing her recent discovery. “Liang Jin, I know—you’re desperate for money.”
Jiang Manyu had already spoken to the boss about letting her go, and Liang Jin knew it. The girl’s dark eyes met hers coolly. “Miss Jiang is a bit too eager.”
Liang Jin recalled the staggering figure on her doctor’s treatment plan—an astronomical sum. Whether she left the Hong Kong District or got fired, Jiang Manyu had left her no path to stay at Ulta.
She’d stolen her female lead role, and now she was determined to finish her off.
Jiang Manyu murmured softly, “Liang Jin, I just need one promise from you—leave.”
Liang Jin stood tall and unbowed beneath the club’s ambiguous lighting, lowering her eyes to continue her accounting as if she hadn’t heard. Jiang Manyu’s patience snapped, and she demanded coldly, “Are you mute?”
The girl looked up evenly. “Miss Jiang is just informing me. Since it’s only a notification, I don’t see the need to respond.”
Jiang Manyu snorted. “Don’t blame me then.”
At ten o’clock, Liang Jin was called to the office to collect her pay. She sent Shen Keye a text.
【Shen Keye, I was fired.】
He really hadn’t helped her.
Ulta was still packed as she left.
A few rowdy guys in the lobby were deep into their games—life-sized drinking games, Avalon with stakes running into the tens of thousands.
Liang Jin walked under the warm yellow streetlights. The vast Hong Kong District loomed around her, its dozens of stories tall skyscrapers aglow with cascading blue and purple neon.
Men and women glided through the crowds in outfits that were flashy yet understated just right, along the pinnacle of opulent streets.
She felt a pang of regret for not throwing caution to the wind and throwing herself at Shen Keye.
She hated this feeling of rejection, of being ignored, of still having to beg. Her world felt upside down, but she had no choice.
Liang Jin called Shen Keye, gritting her teeth as she waited for him to pick up.
The phone rang several times before he answered.
“Shen Keye.” Liang Jin called his name urgently.
She stared at her sneakers, their white canvas worn from heavy use, simple marks of practicality. She cut straight to it. “If I’d kissed you at the Training Field, would you have helped me then?”
Liang Jin wasn’t skilled at pursuing anyone, but the rumors that had dogged her had taught her all too well about men’s baser instincts.
There was a pause on the other end, as if her urgent tone had caught him off guard.
Shen Keye chuckled. “Who put that idea in your head?”
Liang Jin said, “I begged you. I even gave you a chance to touch me.”
It was already the most she could stomach, the lowest line of her defenses.
She had even considered how repulsive it would feel if someone like Liang Wenbin touched her—her scalp crawling, nausea rising.
If she actually kissed him, she might not be able to bear it.
On his end, she heard the whoosh of wind and the distant hum of a cruise ship departing. He must have been out somewhere.
Shen Keye fell silent for a long moment. Liang Jin was about to speak again when he cut her off.
His voice dropped, taking on a gentler tone. “I won’t touch you.”
Liang Jin figured that between men and women, it all boiled down to kissing and sex. Love? She shot back, “Then what do you want?”
Shen Keye’s long, bony fingers tapped rhythmically on the steering wheel with a muffled, steady beat. He thought for a moment before saying, “Liang Jin, for starters, you could try calling me by a different name.”
His words were so casual, a complete departure from his usual aloofness. Liang Jin froze in place.
She recalled the scrutinizing look in Shen Keye’s eyes that day in front of the chessboard—merciless, utterly predatory.
Before she could gather her thoughts, someone called out to her.
“Liang Jin!”
Jiang Manyu had just gotten off the phone with Shen Junbang and learned that Shen Keye wanted to replace the female lead. Her immediate reaction was that her worst nightmare had come true.
Jiang Manyu hurried outside and grabbed Liang Jin’s shoulder.
Mindful of her usual poised and ladylike image, she couldn’t cause a scene. Instead, she lowered her voice and fixed the girl with a stare. “Are you trying to steal the female lead from me?”
Jiang Manyu could hardly believe it.
—Liang Jin, a girl from an ordinary background with a scandalous reputation. How dare she?
The men and women gathered in the hall for the party were mildly shocked by the standoff.
Liang Jin ended her call and slowly turned to look at her. The other girl’s hand was already digging into her shoulder.
Liang Jin warned coldly, “Miss Jiang, please have some self-respect.”
As a kid, Liang Jin was always getting into fights, so Zeng Zhi—worried she’d get hurt—had signed her up for Taekwondo classes. She had never lost a scrap, not even against grown men. Her expression calm, the girl simply reached up and wrenched Jiang Manyu’s hand away with formidable strength.
Jiang Manyu winced in pain. Anger flared up, though she reined it in somewhat as she glared at Liang Jin.
From what Uncle Shen had implied, Liang Jin wasn’t just gunning for her lead role—she was probably after Shen Keye too.
Jiang Manyu knew her current status was largely because her biological father had died saving Shen Junbang. Heart aching, she sneered, “That lead role cost my father his life. You think you can just take it from me? Let me tell you, Liang Jin—that’s never going to happen.”
The girl in the white dress looked down at her with icy composure, waiting for Liang Jin to back down. But Liang Jin only lowered her eyes, said nothing, and walked away.
Jiang Manyu moved to block her.
From Ulta’s hall, a friend called out loudly, “Manyu, is everything okay?”
Jiang Manyu halted, turned, and flashed a faint smile. “Everything’s fine.”
On the bustling streets, the two starkly different girls vanished into opposite ends of the night-shrouded Hong Kong District.
Jiang Manyu stared deeply at the girl who had already walked far away and muttered at last, “Liang Jin, just you wait.”