Cirque du Soleil is renowned worldwide for its fantastical performances, featuring even movable stages that leave almost every audience member in awe.
Sitting in the best seat with a perfect view of the entire show, Zhong Ziyan couldn't help but wonder whether the performers had superpowers—or if she herself did.
When the artists suddenly took flight from the stage, they moved with such effortless grace that they might as well have grown wings.
As the show concluded, the performers lined up to bow, met with thunderous applause, whistles, and cheers from the audience.
Zhong Ziyan didn’t hold back either, clapping enthusiastically to show her admiration for the spectacular performance. After leaving, she headed straight to the souvenir shop and filled two entire baskets with merchandise—some to gift back home, some for an online giveaway.
As the saying goes, if you love something, you should spend money on it.
With the circus show over, the day’s itinerary came to a satisfying close. On the way back to the hotel, Zhong Ziyan mentally reviewed the day’s events and concluded that everything had gone perfectly: what a fulfilling honeymoon, and Wei Hanyun seemed thoroughly pleased too.
As for the spending quota? Today had definitely exceeded expectations!
But now, what should they do with the remaining two days in Las Vegas?
Buying property didn’t seem particularly useful.
Just as Zhong Ziyan was pondering this, the roaring engine of a sports car suddenly cut through the air nearby.
This wasn’t the sound of normal driving—it was the unmistakable revving of an engine, deliberately loud and obnoxious, practically a form of noise pollution.
At first, Zhong Ziyan paid it no mind, but the driver persisted, revving five or six times before finally accelerating. The car—a Ferrari—shot past at over 200 mph, barely missing their vehicle by less than ten centimeters as it roared down the adjacent lane, leaving nothing but a trail of arrogance in its wake.
As the Ferrari sped toward them, Zhong Ziyan had already calculated its trajectory.
There was no real danger of collision—the young driver was just showing off.
So she remained perfectly calm in her seat, unfazed even when the kid stuck out his tongue and flipped her off before speeding away.
After all, their limo wouldn’t stand a chance chasing a Ferrari.
Besides, the driver was probably high on something he shouldn’t have been.
Though the encounter was harmless, their chauffeur was visibly shaken. He turned to explain, "Las Vegas hosts annual racing events, and there are even tracks where tourists can experience high-speed driving. So this kind of behavior… isn’t exactly rare."
"There are racing tracks?" Zhong Ziyan’s interest was piqued.
She wondered if her Aston Martin One-77 had finished its gold-plating yet—it had been a while since she last drove it.
Back at the hotel, she immediately called Hua Shuangshuang to check on the car’s progress.
After confirming with the customization team, Hua Shuangshuang reported that the One-77’s new paint job was complete—now it was just a matter of arranging secure overseas shipping to Tingshan.
"Time’s tight," Zhong Ziyan mused from her lounge chair by the floor-to-ceiling window. "Have my private jet pick it up and bring it to Las Vegas."
Hua Shuangshuang paused. "...I hadn’t considered that. I’ll arrange it right away and update you on the arrival time."
The owner of the customization company was equally stunned, but after negotiating with the shipping company, the plan was quickly set in motion. The One-77 was expected to arrive in Las Vegas by the next afternoon.
With confirmation in hand, Zhong Ziyan sought out Wei Hanyun, who was reading in the suite. "Feel like a drive tomorrow night?"
"Which car? Or should we buy a new one?" Wei Hanyun had overheard her calls and could guess she was arranging for a suitable ride.
"The gold-plated one’s ready—let’s take that." Zhong Ziyan sighed wistfully. "Still wish it was solid gold, though."
Wei Hanyun chuckled, resting his chin on one hand while holding his book in the other.
A fully gold-plated car wasn’t exactly everyone’s taste, and the designer had clearly put their foot down, crafting a solution that balanced Zhong Ziyan’s demands with their own artistic integrity.
If given the choice, Wei Hanyun wouldn’t have gone for an all-gold finish either—but watching Zhong Ziyan insist on it? He found it rather amusing.
"And tomorrow during the day?" he asked.
Zhong Ziyan nibbled on a piece of the hotel’s handmade chocolate, pondering before concluding there weren’t many other entertainment options. "How about trying a different casino?"
Wei Hanyun only had a few days free for their honeymoon—best to make the most of it.
"Sure," he agreed.
He particularly enjoyed the look on Zhong Ziyan’s face when she won.
It was…
Exceptionally lively and adorable.
Before bed, Zhong Ziyan followed her usual routine of placing a fluffy pillow between them as a divider. But unlike the previous night, she fell asleep almost instantly, still hugging her own pillow.
When she woke the next morning before Wei Hanyun, she discovered the divider pillow was missing.
Glancing around, she found the one she’d been holding now on the floor—while she’d somehow ended up clutching the "boundary line" pillow instead.
Zhong Ziyan: "…?"
Quietly, she slipped out of bed, tiptoeing like a thief to retrieve the fallen pillow, dust it off, and restore it to its rightful place.
After scrutinizing the setup for a few seconds, she subtly nudged the divider two inches toward herself, granting Wei Hanyun a bit more space.
The incident left her too alert to fall back asleep. Stretching, she got up and greeted the rose under its glass dome on the nightstand with a soft "Good morning."
As she rounded the bed toward the bathroom, Wei Hanyun stirred awake.
"Morning… Why are you smiling?" Zhong Ziyan immediately noticed his expression.
Wei Hanyun replied calmly, "Had a cute dream."
Zhong Ziyan, brushing her teeth, mused, "So Wei Hanyun likes cute things too," before shifting her focus to breakfast options.
When ordering room service, she specifically requested no edible gold leaf and no additional red roses.
The private butler assured her, "Understood."
The main dish was eggs Benedict drizzled with a special sauce—perfectly cooked so that a single cut released a rich yolk that coated the freshly toasted bread, a testament to the chef’s precision.
Alongside it was a serving of fresh caviar, which, as the butler explained, had been prepared less than twenty-four hours prior. This particular variety was at its peak flavor only within forty-eight hours, hence its direct air shipment from the source—placing it firmly at the pinnacle of caviar pricing.
Zhong Ziyan took a bite, pausing thoughtfully before asking Wei Hanyun, "What does this taste like to you?"
Compared to what they’d eaten at the Wei residence or before the wedding, it didn’t seem noticeably different.
But admitting that felt a bit… underwhelming.
"The taste of money," Wei Hanyun remarked dryly.
"Fair point," Zhong Ziyan conceded, relieved.
At least she wasn’t the only one who couldn’t tell the difference—even her billionaire husband thought so.
From morning until noon, Wei Hanyun took a long phone call, seemingly from Fang Nan.
Zhong Ziyan sprawled across the long, handcrafted leather sofa, flipping through a flashy magazine while sneaking a glance at the book Wei Hanyun had been reading these past few days.
From Switzerland to the U.S., she hadn’t seen him turn many pages—it must be an incredibly profound book.
"The Epic of Dragons: From East to West."
Zhong Ziyan: "……?"
She mentally scratched out the word "profound" in confusion.
Surely, it was just that the book was too dull, which was why Wei Hanyun hadn’t made much progress despite days of reading.
...
After lunch, Wei Hanyun mentioned that his work was temporarily wrapped up. Zhong Ziyan tossed aside the magazine full of male strippers and went to change.
Wei Hanyun picked up the magazine and skimmed through it.
Essentially, it was a gender-flipped version of Playboy—Las Vegas special edition—featuring detailed introductions to the city’s most renowned nightclubs and their top-tier male entertainers.
The accompanying photos were, of course, particularly steamy.
Wei Hanyun flipped a few pages, then tossed it—along with its female counterpart—into the trash, summoning the butler to replace the bin.
Zhong Ziyan emerged from changing in under three minutes, completely unaware her time-killing magazine had vanished, her mind already fixated on casino chips.
Hoping to borrow some of his luck, she tightly clasped Wei Hanyun’s hand the moment they stepped out. "If the God of Fortune ever holds an election, I’d vote for you."
"Shen Beibei isn’t bad in the luck department either," Wei Hanyun remarked casually.
"Pale in comparison."
Zhong Ziyan had looked into Shen Beibei’s luck. Her strokes of fortune often came at a cost—like the crippling menstrual cramps she endured just before meeting Zhong Ziyan on Claude Island, or the time she won 50,000 yuan in the lottery only to be knocked down by an e-bike the same day, spraining her ankle.
Nothing compared to Wei Hanyun’s effortless blessings.
With reverent admiration, Zhong Ziyan lifted Wei Hanyun’s hand for inspection: This was what you called the Midas touch.
His nails were impeccably trimmed, his fingers long and elegant, the bones of his hand well-defined without a single protruding vein—a hand worthy of modeling the collector’s edition Lange & Heyne watch on his wrist.
But in Zhong Ziyan’s eyes, it was pure alchemy.
She sighed with heartfelt sincerity. "If only I’d met you sooner."
Maybe even in the infinite realms, Wei Hanyun’s luck would’ve been just as unstoppable, and Zhong Ziyan could’ve escaped her poverty-stricken fate years earlier.
...After all, who wouldn’t love money after being dirt-poor for so long?!
