What a load of nonsense.
Jiang Liuyue couldn’t help but roll her eyes internally.
She couldn’t be bothered to waste any more words on him, so she simply tapped on the car window, producing two crisp knocks.
“It’s late. I need to go home and rest. Please take me back.”
She then recited an address.
Cen Yuan acted as if he hadn’t heard a thing, driving leisurely with his eyes fixed straight ahead.
In one ear and out the other.
Finally, Jiang Liuyue couldn’t hold back anymore. She leaned forward toward the driver’s seat, body tilting closer.
Before she could say a word, Cen Yuan flashed a sly grin.
His peach-blossom eyes sparkled with anticipation.
“Going to hit me? Go ahead, right here.”
Jiang Liuyue had no intention of rewarding that pervert.
If she actually struck him, this lunatic would probably just get more worked up instead of backing off.
Instead, she pulled out her phone, scrolled to Song Hanzheng’s chat, and hit dial.
A dull buzz echoed from the receiver.
Two calls, no answer.
Cen Yuan caught her expression in the rearview mirror and curved his lips in a wicked smirk.
Those peach-blossom eyes gleamed with schadenfreude.
“Oh, your boyfriend’s on a business trip, huh?”
“And his phone’s not picking up.”
“Could he be having a little... adventure?”
Jiang Liuyue knew he was trying to stir trouble.
She let out a light snort, her tone dripping with undisguised contempt.
“You think Song Hanzheng is like you—falling for every new face?”
Cen Yuan quickly defended himself.
“Hey, don’t talk nonsense. When have I ever done that?”
Jiang Liuyue suddenly smiled.
It was a smile that left Cen Yuan unsure of her intent.
He turned his head and met her gaze.
Those almond eyes held a knowing clarity, sharp and impossible to hide from.
“We’re both old foxes here. What’s with all the fairy-tale games?” she said, her voice light and airy.
Cen Yuan’s lips curled in satisfaction, a grin spreading from the corners of his mouth all the way to his eyes.
His voice dropped low, husky and magnetic.
“You’ve got me wrong.”
“I just wanted to show you who Song Hanzheng really is.”
As his words faded, the car slowly came to a stop outside a boxing gym.
Jiang Liuyue glanced curiously out the window. The night was deep, most shops on the street already shuttered, but this gym still had its lights on.
“Why is the gym still open so late?”
Cen Yuan shrugged, turned off the engine, and pulled out the keys in one fluid motion.
“I invested in this place back in school with Sun Hao and Song Hanzheng.”
“Oh, right—Li Xinle was in on it too, but now his share belongs to Li Feile.”
Jiang Liuyue turned to look at him, her eyes gleaming with open curiosity.
“Why did you bring me here?”
Cen Yuan opened his door, circled around to the passenger side, and gallantly pulled open her door.
He bowed with a theatrical “please” gesture, his voice laced with humor and a slightly rising tone.
“Like I said—to show you who Song Hanzheng really is.”
Jiang Liuyue glanced at her phone again. The screen was still silent.
After a moment’s thought, she unbuckled her seatbelt and stepped out.
The gym wasn’t large—only about the size of two storefronts—but it was well-equipped.
Punching bags, a boxing ring, racks of equipment—everything was there. Several mirrors and photos of boxing matches hung on the walls.
The lighting was a warm yellow.
As the door swung open, the air hit her—sweaty, restless, mixed with the scent of leather and rubber.
A few people were still training on the bags, the dull thud of gloves striking leather echoing through the space.
When they noticed Cen Yuan walking in with Jiang Liuyue, they all stopped and nodded in greeting.
“Hey, Cen-ge.”
“Cen-ge, who’s this?”
Their eyes landed on Jiang Liuyue, and they exchanged meaningful glances.
Everyone knew Cen Yuan had a thing for Li Feile. So why was he showing up late at night with a new girl? Had he given up and found a new girlfriend?
To their surprise, Cen Yuan pointed at Jiang Liuyue.
“Hanzheng’s girlfriend—Jiang Liuyue.”
The group let out a collective sigh of relief.
Good, good—at least it wasn’t that kind of drama.
In unison, they said, “Hello, Sister Jiang.”
Cen Yuan shot them a look and scolded them with a kind of big-brotherly fondness.
“Sister, my ass. She’s younger than all of you. Don’t go making her sound old.”
One of them, more familiar with Cen Yuan and bolder for it, grinned cheekily.
“Then calling her ‘little sister’ would be even worse, wouldn’t it? If Song-ge found out, he’d probably beat us so bad we couldn’t step into the ring for three days.”
“Scram, scram! Don’t know how to say ‘sister-in-law’?”
Cen Yuan cursed, and everyone laughed.
It was lively and genuine.
Jiang Liuyue watched the scene, a little surprised.
She hadn’t expected the annoying Cen Yuan to be so well-liked. The smiles and greetings didn’t feel like polite formalities—they seemed like real warmth. That caught her off guard.
Just as she was starting to think slightly better of him, Cen Yuan leaned in close, his warm breath brushing against her ear.
His voice dropped low, intimate and teasing, like a sneaky little thief.
“Sister-in-law.”
“You think Hanzheng knows you’re out with me this late?”
“Doesn’t it feel a little exciting—like a secret affair?”
His peach-blossom eyes glinted with mischief.
A sugared poison—obviously bad, yet oddly tempting, enough to make your teeth itch.
Yeah, there was no saving him.
Jiang Liuyue frowned.
“Say one more word, and I’ll call the police and report you for harassment!”
Instead of being scared, Cen Yuan laughed even harder.
His thin lips parted, flashing a row of straight white teeth, a grin so bright it was practically asking for a punch.
His peach-blossom eyes curved into crescent moons.
“Such a stern sister-in-law.”
“But... I like it.”
Just when she thought he’d keep pestering her, Cen Yuan walked over to the lockers, opened one, and pulled out his own boxing gloves.
They were red and gold—exquisitely crafted, with golden patterns flowing over the red base like flames laced with lava. Quite unique.
When he noticed Jiang Liuyue’s gaze, Cen Yuan waved the gloves with a childlike pride.
“Nice, right? Xinle gave them to me,” he explained with a grin.
Jiang Liuyue gave a small nod, her eyes lingering on the gloves for a second longer.
Cen Yuan put them on, flexing his fingers to get a feel for the leather, then casually walked up beside her. His tone suddenly turned more serious.
“Not just me—Sun Hao and Song Hanzheng each got a pair too.”
“Xinle is a really good friend. The kind who gives everything for others, the type who’s willing to sacrifice himself for his friends.”
“That’s why I understand how someone as tough as Song Hanzheng could be so close to Xinle.”
Jiang Liuyue glanced sideways at him. Why was he saying all this out of nowhere?
She studied his profile for a moment, trying to see past that lazy expression.
“What about you? How’s your relationship with Li Xinle?” she asked.
Cen Yuan shrugged, adopting a casual air.
“Great.”
“Someone who accepts you unconditionally and always goes out of their way to make sure you’re comfortable—who wouldn’t like that kind of friend?”
“But I like this kind of friend, I just don’t like this type as a romantic partner. Bending over backward, always tiptoeing around others’ feelings, and even thinking they’re sacrificing so much — does that move anyone? No. It’s just laughable.”
He said this with a tone of undisguised coldness.
Jiang Liuyue took the chance to follow up, her voice laced with a hint of provocation.
“So you’re saying you prefer someone like Li Feile — self-centered, arrogant, and domineering?”
Cen Yuan nodded honestly.
“Yeah. I like her cruelty.”
“Especially in the beginning, watching her gloat after pulling off one of her schemes — that really did it for me.”
