Chapter 14: Weren’t We Supposed to Have Dinner Together?

A few days later, Wen Ling deliberately chose to wait for Zhou Yinhe downstairs from his office at the end of the workday.

She wore a striking red backless mini dress, her long brown hair softly curled and cascading down her back, partially revealing her fair skin. In her arms, she held a bouquet of red roses wrapped in black paper. Leaning against the limited-edition blue and gold sports car recently imported from the United States, she drew the attention of many white-collar workers nearby.

A flicker of determination shone in Wen Ling’s eyes. She wanted everyone to see her.

Zhou Yinhe stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, looking down. His sharp eyes clearly caught sight of Wen Ling’s bold display. He pressed his lips together.

Jiang Jibai, standing beside him, chuckled softly, “She hasn’t changed one bit from before.”

Zhou Yinhe lowered his gaze. The only daughter of the wealthy Wen family, a powerful financial dynasty in the U.S., Wen Ling had been spoiled and unrestrained since childhood. She had once done all sorts of outrageous things to win him over, causing a citywide stir. Yet he had fallen for it. Now, seeing her resort to the same tactics again, it was clear she knew exactly how to appeal to his preferences.

Seeing his expression, Jiang Jibai patted his shoulder lightly and said calmly, “If you want to go, then go. But I have to remind you: back then, even when you begged her on your knees, she still wanted to break up. She could do the same again.”

That was all he said. Whether Zhou Yinhe would listen, he didn’t know.

They had all grown up in the same courtyard, and Zhou Yinhe was the youngest among them. They had all pampered and indulged him over the years, enjoying loving parents and a harmonious home, never having faced the slightest hardship. Yet with Wen Ling, he had taken a serious blow.

Jiang Jibai sighed and left, taking the elevator down straight to the parking garage, avoiding an encounter with Wen Ling.

Wen Ling waited downstairs for a long time, but her mood remained buoyant. It wasn’t until the twilight faded and the sky darkened that she took the initiative to call Zhou Yinhe.

He answered, his voice cold: “What is it?”

“I’m waiting for you downstairs at your company,” Wen Ling’s voice unintentionally took on a coquettish tone. “Aren’t you off work yet?”

“I’m already home.”

Hearing this, Wen Ling pursed her lips, her shoulders sagging. She struggled to keep her hurt feelings from showing, softly saying, “Didn’t we agree to have dinner together?”

“No need,” Zhou Yinhe said before hanging up.

Wen Ling stood rooted to the spot for a long while. Only when the night breeze grew chilly did she move her stiff limbs.

Biting her lip, she looked down at the bouquet of red roses in her hands and let out a quiet sigh. Then she raised her eyes to the towering skyscraper before her. Her eyes grew sore, and she withdrew her gaze. In the blink of an eye, tears welled up and slid down her cheeks, falling onto the petals.

She took a few steps forward, bent down, and placed the flowers on a bench by the roadside. After staring off into space for a moment, she returned to her car and drove away.

Zhou Yinhe still stood by the window, watching. His dark eyes betrayed no emotion. Only when Wen Ling’s car disappeared did he head downstairs.

A street cleaner was picking up the flowers. Zhou Yinhe strode over and stopped her calmly. “Auntie, I’ll buy those flowers from you.”

Surprised, she said, “No need to pay me. I found them on that bench over there. They’re yours.”

Zhou Yinhe took the bouquet and noticed a few stray drops of water on the petals. His fingers twitched. He pulled out his wallet from his suit pocket, took out two bills, handed them to the woman, muttered a “thank you,” and left.

Wen Ling drove aimlessly until she passed a coastal park. She found a parking spot and stopped.

She walked in slowly and saw a girl standing on the seaside path, singing with a microphone and accompaniment playing. Wen Ling sat on a bench opposite her, lips curling into a faint smile, watching the performance with a bored air.

“Because I love you, I hold tight to this tiny scheme. Without you, I have no strength to forgive myself.”

Wen Ling pursed her lips, covering her face with her hands as she took a deep breath. She had never liked to cry. When she was a child, she fell and scraped her knee playing with friends, leaving a scar that remained to this day. She never cried, even comforting her friends who were frightened by the wound with a smile.

But now, for some reason, tears kept falling uncontrollably.

She listened silently until the song changed. Composing herself, she stood and approached the girl, pulling out her phone to scan a QR code. The girl whispered a soft thanks. Wen Ling’s eyes curved into a gentle smile as she complimented her.

“You sing beautifully.”

Turning away, Wen Ling got into her car. Suddenly, her stomach growled loudly, reminding her it was time for dinner.

“Hmph, the jerk who stood me up,” Wen Ling snorted, as if the sadness from moments ago belonged to someone else.

She called Lu Zhaoye. Perhaps she had already calmed down because he answered quickly.

“What do you want?” Lu Zhaoye’s lazy voice came through, followed by the click of a lighter.

Wen Ling leaned half over the steering wheel, her voice muffled, “There’s no one in this city willing to eat dinner with me.”

Lu Zhaoye chuckled, “Serves you right for going.”

“Why don’t you come to this city? Then you could keep me company for dinner,” Wen Ling bargained. “You’re always playing around in the U.S. anyway. There are plenty of fun places here in China.”

Lu Zhaoye exhaled smoke lazily, “The stuff I do can’t be done in China.”

Oh right, Wen Ling remembered and rolled her eyes, annoyed. “Go ahead and play then. You’ll mess yourself up sooner or later.”

He shot back without restraint, “You keep chasing Zhou Yinhe—you’ll become one of those lovelorn fools people disdain.”

Wen Ling snorted. “Tomorrow, help me ship my cat over here.”

Because she didn’t know how long she would stay in China, and her grandfather liked cats but was impatient, while Wen Zhuo was busy with family affairs, only Lu Zhaoye was idle enough to take care of her cat. So she had entrusted her feline companion to him.

After being stood up by Zhou Yinhe tonight, Wen Ling felt this would be a long battle, so it was better to have Lu Zhaoye bring her cat over. It would give her peace of mind.

“Alright, you’re my queen, and your cat is my little king,” Lu Zhaoye drawled reluctantly.

Wen Ling didn’t want to hear his complaints, so she hung up, started the car, and sped home.

Meanwhile, Lu Zhaoye lazily wandered into the cat’s room. The foolish cat was sitting in its bed grooming itself. He crouched down and ruffled its head twice, grinning with a hint of mischief.

“Your mom’s really something—chasing a man and still having to bring you along. Tomorrow, you’re flying by yourself. You’re in for a rough time.”

The cat narrowed its eyes and swatted his hand, leaving three long scratches on the back of Lu Zhaoye’s hand.

He cursed, stood up, and glared at the cat. “I feed you well, and you hit me? No heart! Just like your mom!”

The cat puffed up and hissed at him, as if to say: “That’s for insulting my mom!”