Lei Zhengyang's jab about the wine left all three stunned, Liu Weiwei included. Truth be told, despite her hefty salary and white-collar status, she wasn't a wine connoisseur. Red wine was just a fancy prop to her, its nuances lost.
Hong Yulian, raised in a bureaucratic dynasty, knew enough about brands and status to catch the slight. She smirked at Lei Zhengyang, her tone laced with mockery. "Seems Miss Liu's boyfriend has a refined palate. This Lafite may not be a vintage gem, but it's still over ten grand a bottle. Doubt a guy like you earns that in a month. What, some lady foot the bill for your drinks?"
Lei Zhengyang nodded, deadpan. "Sharp as a tack, Miss Hong. I never pay for my drinks—always on someone else's tab."
He Shaobin's eyes burned with contempt. A man leeching off women? A gigolo. Seeing Liu Weiwei so close to this loser stung him. Deep down, he'd been mad about her in college. Her refusal to give herself fully had driven him into another woman's arms—those soft curves, that intoxicating scent. He'd been caught red-handed, but in his mind, it was her fault for not fulfilling her role as his girlfriend. The one that got away always stung the most.
"Impressive," He Shaobin sneered. "So many women lining up to buy you drinks? Vivi, as an old friend, I've gotta warn you—this guy's bad news."
Liu Weiwei shot Lei Zhengyang a glare, silently begging him to shut up. Why bicker with these two? They were from different worlds. She'd delivered her congratulations; it was time to leave. Standing, she smiled politely. "Zhengyang's got a loose tongue, always spouting nonsense. Miss Hong, Mr. He, thanks for the invite. We'll be going now. Wishing you all the happiness."
She looped her arm through Lei Zhengyang's, pulling him along. She didn't buy his act for a second, but her heart warmed. He'd mouthed off to save her face, whether it landed or not. That gesture, small as it was, meant the world. Liu Weiwei didn't care about others' opinions. Happiness wasn't a performance—it was a feeling. And right now, standing close to this man, she felt it. That was enough.
A group of young elites swept in, spotting Lei Zhengyang and Hong Yulian. "Young Master Feng!" Hong Yulian called, her arrogance fading as she raised her glass in a fawning toast. "Thanks for coming to my engagement. A drink to you!"
But Feng Bufan, the so-called Young Master Feng, didn't spare her a glance. His eyes locked on Lei Zhengyang, and his raised glass trembled, wine splashing. "Lei… Lei Shao? Is it really you?"
Shock colored his voice. A year had passed, but he'd never mistake the man before him: Lei Zhengyang, the third young master of the Lei family. A legendary playboy, a titan of charm who conquered hearts effortlessly, Beijing's most infamous scion. To Feng Bufan, he was an idol.
Lei Zhengyang squinted, the face vaguely familiar but not enough to place. As a Lei heir, he'd been swarmed by sycophants, but few earned his attention. This guy? Not one of them. "Who're you?" he asked coolly.
"Little Whirlwind!" Feng Bufan blurted, practically vibrating with excitement. "Lei Shao, it's me! I ran with Brother Li—poured your drinks once, remember?" To him, even a fleeting moment in Lei Shao's orbit was a badge of honor.
"Brother Li" jogged Lei Zhengyang's memory. Li, the guy everyone called Brother Li, but Lei Zhengyang always dubbed "Madman."
"You're with Madman?" he asked.
"Yes, yes!" Feng Bufan nodded eagerly. "I'll call him right now—he's been looking for you! Lei Shao, you rarely hit Tianhai. Let me play host, or Brother Li'll call me a useless sack!"
Useless sack—Madman's favorite jab. That checked out.
"No need," Lei Zhengyang said, waving him off. "Tell Madman to leave me alone. I'm here on business, not to mess around."
"Got it, Lei Shao. I'll pass it on!" Feng Bufan bobbed his head as Lei Zhengyang, arm in arm with Liu Weiwei, headed for the exit. Only when they were out of sight did he straighten, his face alight with giddy pride.
Hong Yulian, still reeling, ventured, "Young Master Feng, who was that? Your friend?"
"Friend?" Feng Bufan snorted. "I'm not worthy. Hong Yulian, you didn't offend him, did you?"
"No, no!" she stammered, sensing danger. "They're guests—how could I?"
"Good," he said, his voice low. "Because if you did, your dad's measly deputy mayor gig wouldn't save you. Even a governor would be out of a job by morning. Some people you don't cross."
"I understand, Young Master Feng, I understand!" Hong Yulian's heart pounded, her bravado crumbling. Feng Bufan's father was a provincial heavyweight, yet he groveled before that man. Lei Zhengyang wasn't just anybody—he was untouchable. Her earlier taunts flashed through her mind, each word a noose. Cold sweat soaked her dress. If she could, she'd swallow every syllable, praying he'd dismiss her barbs as hot air.
He Shaobin, equally rattled, stood drenched in sweat, his shirt clinging to his back.
Feng Bufan, too thrilled to linger, was already dialing Brother Li. "Lei Shao's in Tianhai!" he crowed, sharing the bombshell.
Lei Zhengyang barely registered Hong Yulian's words. In his old life, he'd have slapped the smug off her face and sent her packing. But now? Bullying small fry felt beneath him, a stain on the Lei family's name.
Liu Weiwei studied him, her gaze probing. "Care to share? I know your name, but that's about it. Who are you?"
He flashed a cryptic smile. "I'm like the sun behind storm clouds. Try to peek through, and you'll burn your eyes. Miss Vivi, I'm starting to worry—you might actually fall for me and mean that 'devote yourself' talk."
Her laughter rang out as she reached for his waist, giving it a playful twist, their ease like that of old lovers. "Sun or not, you're the cockiest man I've ever met."
"Wrong," he shot back, grinning. "I'm the most dazzling. Even in the darkest corner, my shine breaks through."
She didn't reply, just let loose a carefree laugh, bright and unrestrained.
"Alright, dazzling man," she said, still chuckling. "I don't care who you are or why you're in Tianhai. Fate brought us together, so I'll sponsor you for a month. Honestly, I'm curious what it's like to keep a pretty boy on my dime. You cool with that?"
"Not at all," he replied, eyes twinkling. "Especially when my sugar mama's a knockout like you. No way I'm losing out."
"Deal," she declared, but as the words left her lips, a fleeting shadow of sorrow flickered in her eyes, gone in an instant. Deep down, she knew this man wasn't hers to keep.
She didn't know Feng Bufan, but Hong Yulian, a deputy mayor's daughter, had groveled to him. And Feng, a man of serious clout, had bowed to Lei Zhengyang. He was beyond her reach, a star too bright to hold. Friends, then—that must be fate's plan for them.
In a quiet villa in the provincial capital, Li Yuanfeng took Feng Bufan's call.
"You're sure you didn't mistake him?" Li asked, his voice steady but sharp.
"Brother Li, I swear it was Lei Shao," Feng Bufan insisted. "I didn't dare ask too much—you know his temper—but it's him."
The call ended, and Li Yuanfeng's calm eyes ignited with a fierce blaze. Lei Zhengyang had surfaced. The storm between the Lei and Song families was about to surge, a final clash long awaited by many.
"Brother," Li murmured, "I can't fight your battles, but I wish you luck."