Qin Yuhe was busy with something and didn't reply to the message right away.
Song Xinya knew he was swamped with work, so she didn't push or send another message. She just pressed her lips around the straw and took a slow, leisurely sip of her Tomorrow See You cocktail.
The silver metallic straw pressed a soft indentation into her plump lips, staining it with the shade of her lipstick and adding a touch of flirtatious color. Song Xinya was naturally stunning and alluring, and under the dim, hazy lights of the bar, her delicate face looked even more sculpted, her perfect features growing more seductive by the second. Because the cocktail she was drinking tasted so good, her eyes curved slightly, her pupils misty and full of feeling, a lazy, sensual charm spilling out effortlessly. A girl drinking alone in a bar—especially a pretty one—was an easy target for men looking to hit on her.
Song Xinya had only taken a couple of small sips when a man walked up to her, trying to be charming: “Beautiful, you really look like someone I know.”
What an outdated pickup line.
Song Xinya glanced up at him, her eyes flickering.
Not because he was particularly handsome or charismatic, but because he looked really young. Even though he was dressed like an adult, his lean, skinny frame made him look like a kid wearing his parents' clothes.
A minor sneaking into a bar for a drink?
Song Xinya had no interest in little boys like him. She said, “I'm not alone.”
He laughed: “I've been watching you since you walked in. You came with a girl—what's the fun in two girls coming to a bar alone? How about we keep you two company and have some real fun…”
The last part definitely had a suggestive undertone.
Song Xinya cast a lazy, indifferent glance at him. “You know who I remind you of?”
He asked, “Who?”
Song Xinya: “I'm your mom. Glorious and great.”
He was stunned for a second.
Unconvinced, he said, “Who'd you say you're the mom of? I'm thirty years old, you know that?”
Song Xinya: “I'm your grandma. Ancient and lovely.”
He was stunned again.
It took him a while, but he scratched his head and finally came up with a comeback: “Well, I'm your grandpa. One hundred years old.”
Song Xinya: “Then you'd better be careful. My grandpa died at a hundred, and today is exactly his death anniversary. If you're my grandpa, then today's your day to die!”
He was stunned, then stunned again.
He'd never met someone with such a sharp tongue. He was outmatched.
He'd only come to hit on a pretty girl, not to lose his life over it. So he was out of there.
Song Xinya continued to sip her Tomorrow See You cocktail at a relaxed pace, her gaze following the "grown man" she'd just chased off.
Suddenly, her eyes focused.
The guy had returned to his group of buddies, and sitting right next to him was a boy who stood out immediately.
His hair was slicked back, he wore a black T-shirt and black pants, his arm was covered in a fierce leopard tattoo, black diamond earrings glinted in his ears, and he was holding a glass of strong whiskey, tilting his head back to chug it.
His whole vibe was extremely wild and rebellious.
He looked like a completely different person compared to the sweet, soft-dressed image he had on campus.
This boy was Sheng Tianjun.
He downed a whole glass of whiskey that was over 40 proof in one go, then reached for another and poured it down his throat.
Song Xinya watched him drink, taking in the tattoo on his arm, the black diamond earrings, and the slicked-back hairstyle, and let out a snort of contempt.
This form of him looked nothing like the good-student image with his neat, soft hair.
And wasn't this the same guy who told her he wasn't feeling well, that he was sick, running a high fever of 40 degrees, and basically dying, so he couldn't have his tutoring session today?
Running a fever of 40 degrees and still downing hard liquor? He might as well be trying to die faster.
Fake.
All of it fake—the high fever, the 40 degrees, the "dying."
It was just Sheng Tianjun's excuse to go drink at the bar.
Song Xinya pulled out her phone and snapped a photo of Sheng Tianjun as he tilted his head back, gulping down the liquor.
After taking the photo, she called Tiantianquan and had her come back.
Song Xinya grabbed Tiantianquan's arm and headed for the exit: “Time to go home, everyone to their own place.”
Tiantianquan was confused: “We just got here. Why rush off? Your husband isn't even home anyway, so it's not like you have anything to do when you get back.”
Song Xinya: “A fresh-faced brat who's still wet behind the ears came to pick me up here, pretending to be all grown-up and drinking. He'll probably try to bother me again later.”
Tiantianquan rolled up her sleeves: “Bother you? Watch me beat the living daylights out of him. You're my best friend—do you think I'd let anyone mess with you? How many of them are there?”
Song Xinya: “Eight men.”
Tiantianquan immediately rolled her sleeves back down: “Okay, let's just run.”
She grabbed Song Xinya's arm and took off at high speed, her legs moving so fast they were a blur.
Gasping for breath as she ran, she rattled on and on.
“Let me tell you, running away isn't being a coward—it's knowing when to be smart. It's being self-aware and wise.”
“Like that line from the Korean drama ‘Unknown Seoul’: Is a deer garbage because it runs from a lion? Is a hermit crab a coward because it hides to avoid being eaten? No. They're not. They're surviving in their own way—hiding to live. No matter how pathetic or miserable it looks, everything you do to survive is brave.”
“Song Xinya, it's not that I'm afraid to take on those eight guys. It's that I'm worried you'll get hurt. With my skills, taking on eight guys—one girl fighting eight men—would be, without a doubt, a piece of cake, no effort at all. I'd get thoroughly beaten into the ground!”
Song Xinya: “Okay, okay, enough with the chatter. Save your breath for running.”
They got into the car, and it sped off like the wind.
Song Xinya had predicted it right. Just as her car pulled away, the kid who'd hit on her came running out with a group of his buddies.
Clearly, he hadn't given up and still wanted to bother her.
But they'd miscalculated—Song Xinya had seen this coming and left early.
The bunch of kids were left empty-handed.
Song Xinya dropped Tiantianquan off at home and returned to Zijing Mansion.
She stood at the door of her second-floor bedroom, about to push it open, when her phone buzzed.
She unlocked the screen and saw a message from Qin Yuhe—
