Chapter 132: Sold Out

Liang Jinshang was carried into the car by Shang Yucheng. She heard him state the name of her hotel and felt not a shred of surprise. If he could track her down to a bar in the middle of the night, it was hardly a mystery that he would know where she was staying.

Xiao Wang, the driver, stole glances into the rearview mirror while stifling a yawn behind his hand. Xingcheng was an eight-hour drive from Jincheng. Covering over a thousand kilometers by car, even in a Cullinan, was hardly as comfortable as flying first class. However, today’s flights had been sold out, and there wasn't enough time to file a flight plan for a private jet. Shang Yucheng had simply ordered him to make the long-distance trek. Xiao Wang had assumed there was some monumental business deal to be handled; he had never seen Shang Yucheng show such urgency for eight- or nine-figure contracts. And yet, they had come all this way just to pick up his intoxicated girlfriend from a bar?

Although Liang Jinshang had been half-drunk before taking the stage, the exertion of her dance had left her sweating profusely. Coupled with the biting, gnawing, and invasive assault she had suffered at Shang Yucheng’s hands, the alcohol had mostly worn off. Settling into the climate-controlled car and leaning against his chest, she began to calm down. Only then did she realize that the dizziness and heat she felt might not have been due to the alcohol at all. She had been showing signs of a cold before coming to the bar, but since she planned to drink, she hadn't taken any medicine. Between the heat of the dance and the chill of the night, it seemed she had developed a fever.

Liang Jinshang had always been healthy, and she rarely fell ill. For someone who seldom gets sick, a fever hits much harder than it does for those with weaker constitutions; perhaps because her immune system was so robust, the invading bacteria and inflammation fought back with equal intensity. Regardless, as her fever rose, she felt every bone and nerve in her body begin to ache. She simply slumped against Shang Yucheng, trying to find a comfortable position to ease the pain.

Shang Yucheng tried to push her away several times, but the woman only clung to him more tightly. He had not fared much better than her during their earlier confrontation in the restroom. For him, his anger had been doused by her tears, while his desire had been ignited with nowhere to vent—a self-inflicted torment that yielded no reward. In such matters, the one who derives more pleasure inevitably bears the heavier backlash. Throughout the drive from the bar to the hotel, Shang Yucheng simply wanted her as far away from him as possible.

Doing anything inappropriate in front of the driver was not something he would ever consider. A man as pragmatic as he was, if he could gain some genuine sweetness from these physical entanglements, he wouldn't mind being more attentive. But if he were expected to play the virtuous saint, then she shouldn't be sitting in his lap in the first place. Fortunately, Liang Jinshang had no idea that this was what was going through his mind. The ride back to the hotel ended in a silent tug-of-war between his subtle rejections and her drowsy clinging.

Shang Yucheng got out first and walked around to help her down. He had checked into this hotel earlier that evening, only to receive a tip-off from Yuan Xi, leaving him without even taking his room key. He told Liang Jinshang to rest on a sofa in the lobby while he went to the front desk. He paused, then turned back to ask, "Which floor is your room on?"

"The eighth," she replied listlessly.

That floor consisted of standard rooms. Shang Yucheng made the decision for her: "Fine, you’re coming up to the 33rd floor with me in a moment."

Liang Jinshang was about to refuse when she heard him ask the receptionist, in a perfectly natural tone, "Do you have any condoms in the room?"

It is no exaggeration to say that Liang Jinshang felt everyone in the lobby instinctively turn to look at him. While people were used to such things in hotels, no one asked about such items so brazenly at the counter. Even more infuriatingly, because he had told her to come to the 33rd floor just before asking his question, it was glaringly obvious to everyone that she was the intended partner. A few scattered, probing gazes landed on her, and Liang Jinshang wanted to bury herself in the sofa cushions.

The receptionist replied with professional training, "We do not, sir, but if you need them, our staff can bring them up."

"Good," Shang Yucheng said, taking his room key. "Send them up quickly."

Liang Jinshang: "..."

She could barely maintain her composure. If she ever had the chance to bite Shang Yucheng again, she decided she would sink her teeth into his face to see what kind of material it was made of—to be that thick-skinned!

Shang Yucheng walked over, prepared to pick her up as he had before. But Liang Jinshang’s threshold for humiliation was limited. She could not bear the thought of the people in the lobby, including the staff, watching him carry her upstairs like a damsel after that shameless display. The image alone was enough to make her want to crawl into a hole. She firmly pushed his hands away and, favoring one foot, hopped toward the elevator.

The few steps were exhausting, leaving her on the verge of collapse due to her high fever. Leaning against the elevator wall, she pressed the button for the eighth floor. Shang Yucheng glanced at her, but she kept her eyes fixed ahead, refusing to meet his gaze. He said nothing, but when the elevator reached the eighth floor, he followed her out with his long strides.

He trailed her to her door. Just as she reached to swipe her key card, Shang Yucheng blocked her by leaning against the door frame. "Don't want to come to my room?"

Liang Jinshang looked up at him. She had been leaning against him the entire way back, her face and forehead pressed against his more than once. Anyone with a modicum of common sense would have realized she was running a fever. She didn't know if Shang Yucheng truly lacked the awareness or if he was simply too blinded by desire to stop before achieving his goal. Even though she was sick, he was determined to finish what they had started earlier.

"I’m tired," she said in a low voice. "I just want to sleep."

"You can sleep just as well at my place," he said, gesturing for her to open the door. "Go in and get your things."

If she went with him, she wasn't sure if she would be sleeping or being slept with.

"Shang Yucheng, we’ve already broken up. There's no point in arguing over who was more out of line back at the bar; I’m the one who apologized, so you didn't lose out. Given your stature, one word from you and you’d have your pick of anyone in this hotel tonight. Please, don't be so unreasonable."

Liang Jinshang couldn't hide her disappointment. In truth, some things didn't need to be said so bluntly or kill the mood; for consenting adults, a bit of mutual gratification was nothing. But she was running a fever. Shang Yucheng had already been disrespectful enough in the restroom—she could chalk it up to punishment for her audacity in "cheating" and initiating a breakup. But if he was so consumed by base desires that he ignored her illness, she would only be relieved that she had made the right decision to end things.

Shang Yucheng stared at her, his expression cold and detached. Liang Jinshang, now too feverish to even stand, avoided his eyes, swiped her card, and slammed the door shut in his face.