Volume One, Chapter 81: He Had No Way to Deal With Her at All

Sang Wan never expected that the performance she’d missed in the imperial capital would be made up for here in Si City.

After a dazzling array of acts on the first-floor stage, the real showstoppers took their turn.

Pole dancing.

A swimsuit show.

…

Downstairs, the surging cheers rose and fell like waves. Peeking over, she saw the crowd growing larger and larger. What amazed her even more was that, though the acts were visually stunning, they were never vulgar. The models, men and women alike, were strikingly attractive, parading down the runway in minimal clothing. At a glance, every man started with a six-pack. The music pulsed with rhythm, and even the glances exchanged between models and audience brimmed with suggestiveness, as if they were here to savor the lights and applause, not just to perform.

Turning back, Sang Wan noticed that Nie Ruyuan and the two male hosts had disappeared, and she couldn’t help but feel relieved.

“Go on, do your job,” Sang Wan said to the handsome young man beside her. “I’m fine here, just watching the show.”

“Miss…” The young man looked at her pitifully. “We have a rule—serve one client well per night, and that’s enough. If you don’t want a massage, I can drink with you. I’ll leave at midnight on the dot—won’t stay a second longer, alright?”

Sang Wan hesitated.

The young man’s voice grew even more plaintive. “I’m working my way through school, and this is my last shift. If my supervisor finds out, I’ll lose my month’s salary.”

Working his way through school?

University student?

Sang Wan paused, memories of her own struggles as a working student coming back to her. She glanced at her phone—it was only ten o’clock. She’d just be sleeping at the hotel anyway. She nodded decisively, “Alright.”

The young man’s face lit up with a bright smile. “You’re so kind!”

With that, Sang Wan began filming the performance on her phone, sending the videos to her best friend on WeChat. The two of them chatted enthusiastically.

Meanwhile, the young man quietly switched out her drink.

His mentors had told him: young, pretty women who don’t try to get handsy were usually either career-driven powerhouses who didn’t have time for romance, or housewives whose married life wasn’t going well. Either way, they were high-quality clients. If you could latch on, that was a long-term meal ticket.

Sang Wan’s conversation was watertight—she never mentioned work or family, but her every gesture exuded an unmistakable air of privilege. What’s more, there were faint marks on her finger from a wedding ring worn long-term.

If he could win her favor, he’d have it easy for a long time.

The more he thought about it, the more excited he became. He urged her to drink several more glasses.

The wine was fruity and sweet, with a gentle tang. The more she drank, the dizzier she felt.

After a few glasses, Sang Wan suspiciously checked the bottle. Just 3.8% alcohol. She set her mind at ease, sipping as she watched the show and occasionally bragged to Xu Yiyi in their chat.

“Miss…”

“Miss…”

The young man’s constant refrain in her ear was starting to grate, especially compared to that deep, resonant “Miss” echoing from the depths of her memory.

She waved her hand, dazed. “...Don’t be noisy!”

“Miss, there are rooms upstairs. Let me help you rest, alright?” The young man gently took the glass that was about to slip from her hand.

…

When Lou Ye entered, the stage was alive with a runway show. More than a dozen young men in white shirts and black trousers strutted around, casting what they thought were deep, seductive glances at the women below. The crowd of inexperienced women screamed, out of control.

Suddenly, a downpour from above drenched the men onstage. In the blink of an eye, the soaked hunks began a wet-shirt show. Their shirts, half-on, half-off, raised the tension higher and higher.

The moment the shirts finally hit the floor, the collective shriek from the crowd nearly blew the roof off.

Just thinking that this was the kind of show Sang Wan wanted to see made Lou Ye’s face darken.

Fortunately, she was nowhere to be seen among the audience.

Recalling the regional manager’s personal instructions to look after her, Lou Ye made his way straight upstairs to the private rooms.

Every door he pushed open startled a pair of clandestine lovers.

His expression grew darker with each one.

Finally, he opened the last door, just in time to see a male host leaning in as if to kiss someone.

The person sprawled in the armchair wasn’t visible, but the wrist draped lazily over the armrest wore the Sang family’s most prized heirloom.

Bang!

Lou Ye shoved the door open.

The young man straightened in alarm. “You—”

“Get out.”

The newcomer was strikingly handsome, his aura intimidating. For a moment, the young man couldn’t tell if he was a jealous husband or just another male host.

Lou Ye loosened his tie, looking ready for a fight.

Now that his scheme had been exposed and his chance lost, the young man decided it best to make a quick exit.

Lou Ye strode over and found Sang Wan dead drunk.

He glanced at the two empty bottles on the table and clenched his jaw.

“Sang Wan? ...Sang Wan!” He pinched her cheek. Shook her gently.

Sang Wan stirred awake.

Her vision was blurry, but she saw that familiar white silhouette.

She smiled. “A-Ye...”

Lou Ye: ...

He realized he was completely helpless against her.

He’d been angry for a day and a night.

He knew perfectly well she was drunk.

But all his anger melted away the moment he saw her bright smile and heard her call out his name with such charm.

With a soft pop, his anger vanished without a trace.

“Did you enjoy the show?”

“Yes, it was... wonderful.”

“Have you seen enough?”

“Yes...”

She didn’t even finish the word “enough” before his fierce kiss came down.

Sang Wan’s resistance quickly crumbled.

The taste of tangy sweetness. A kiss flavored with fruit. Heat rising between them.

But soon, the haze from the crowded hall below seeped in, cooling things down.

He glanced back—downstairs, the show had reached its climax, the screams and cheers pouring into his veins.

Only by sheer willpower did he stop himself from going further.

Lou Ye scooped Sang Wan into his arms and left the private room.

“Do you know who I am?” The elevator ascended, and Lou Ye asked the drunkenly limp Sang Wan in his arms.

She opened her hazy eyes and shook her head. “You... you didn’t tell me...”

“Miss...” Lou Ye bit her earlobe. “Do you know now?”

A flash of recognition came to Sang Wan. “Lou Ye...”

The room door swung open with a metallic chime.

A cool scent of lemon filled the air.

The moment he inserted the key card—

Bang!

The room, the hallway, the whole world plunged into darkness.

A profound silence fell.

So still it felt like the end of the world.

Chilled by the dark, Sang Wan instinctively snuggled closer to the warm embrace.

Soft and fragrant in his arms.

Lou Ye’s blood seemed to freeze for an instant.

With a trembling voice, she murmured, “A-Ye...”

Let the world end!

Let whatever happens, happen!

He spun her around, pinning her against the door, and kissed her deeply.

That familiar scent.

That familiar feeling.

Everything felt so practiced, as if they’d rehearsed it countless times.

But as the thought flickered through her mind, Sang Wan could no longer care.

The heated tide welled up again, that splendid dream returning in full force.

Sang Wan tilted her head back.

She yielded.

Thus began a night of wild, intoxicated passion.