The strobe lights flickered between red and blue, the electronic music suddenly shifted its tone, and the nightclub reached its peak frenzy for the evening.
Bian Che's voice cut through the clamor like a blunt strike to the skull, leaving one petrified in an instant.
Ye Shengsheng's spine stiffened abruptly, every hair on her body standing on end. The air in her chest grew thin, her mind blank before dissolving into a daze. Her gaze solidified in the darkness, and she blinked rapidly.
The drink earlier must have been spiked.
The toxin was potent—hallucinations were setting in.
Had her brain not received some bizarre command, why would she suddenly find Bian Che attractive? And out of 1.6 billion people, why had she struck up a conversation with him?
Their feud ran deep, stretching back further than even Zhu Ze and Gao Xueyao’s spots on Ye Shengsheng’s blacklist—before them, that exclusive space had belonged solely to Bian Che.
If she really thought about it, Ye Shengsheng and Bian Che had once shared a close childhood. Back then, Bian Che had been a mischievous but handsome little boy—not entirely unbearable, occasionally even stepping in to defend the little princess from rude boys.
When had her impression of him shifted?
It was during the first month at Lide International High School. The school had organized a basketball tournament, and the cheerleading squad auditions were in full swing, generating even more buzz than the games themselves. Because, truthfully, the "cheer captain" selection was just a front—this was a school beauty pageant. The survey covered over 600 students across three grades, its credibility unquestionable.
When Ye Shengsheng stepped out of the Rolls-Royce, her uniform skirt fluttering slightly, someone called her name. She turned, her features instantly illuminated under the crowd’s gaze.
Her skin glowed, her eyes lazy, a small mole gracing her cheekbone—her expression cool and detached.
A figure that striking naturally became the talk of the school from day one.
Though she carried an air of aloof indifference, her looks alone made her the undisputed frontrunner for school belle. Not that she cared for such trivial contests—let the gossip fly, she attended class and ate meals as usual.
That afternoon, Ye Shengsheng headed to the third floor of Boya Building for art class. As she turned east toward the classroom, she passed the photography class where student council members were conducting surveys.
"The captain position is single-choice only. Multiple selections will invalidate your response."
Art class was supposed to be relaxing, and the teacher was lenient—now, the room erupted in chatter.
"Are all these candidates freshmen? Some names I don’t even recognize."
"You’re clueless. If you haven’t heard of them, they’re obviously not stunning enough."
A girl in the front row gasped. "Ye Shengsheng walked past me today—she smelled amazing, and her legs were so slender and fair. Her proportions are unreal."
A boy dramatically lamented, "Ye Shengsheng’s beauty is too unapproachable. I prefer Lin Yunyun’s pure, girl-next-door vibe."
His deskmate shot him a look reserved for the intellectually challenged. "Stop deluding yourself. Neither of them would glance your way..."
Amid the heated debate, Bian Che sat in the back row like an outsider, lazily eating a sandwich. His long legs stretched carelessly into the aisle, half a sandwich in hand, exuding exhaustion. He’d been dragged into an all-night gaming session by his friends and had slept straight through lunch.
The commotion reached him as the surveyors approached his desk. The A4 sheet landed with a soft tap, and the student council member grinned. "Bian Che, who’re you voting for?"
As the basketball team’s star and a campus celebrity, his answer drew immediate attention. Ears perked up around the room.
Outside, afternoon sunlight pierced through the windows, dust motes floating in the beams. Ye Shengsheng, carrying her sketchboard, slowed her steps upon hearing that name.
Bian Che’s jaw moved slowly as he chewed, his sleeves rolled to reveal the veins along his forearms. A pen twirled deftly between his fingers before he decisively marked a checkbox.
Gasps erupted.
"Lin Yunyun?! So Bian Che likes the innocent type after all..."
"Damn, I’m changing my vote too!"
"Same." His mindless followers swiftly switched allegiance.
On the other side of the wall, Ye Shengsheng cast a frosty glance in his direction, scoffed softly, and disappeared down the hallway without a sound.
A two-faced hypocrite.
Bian Che didn’t have to vote for her—but he shouldn’t have lied. During cheer practice the day before, his gaze had lingered on her more than once. She’d even joked about the contest, and he’d sworn he’d vote for her. Today, he’d "accidentally" checked the wrong name? Clearly, his early-onset dementia was worsening.
Just like that, the cheer captain title—and by extension, the school belle crown—was snatched from Ye Shengsheng and handed to someone else.
From then on, she relegated Bian Che to enemy territory. Their grudges piled up over time, locking them into a perpetual clash of titans.
Even after blacklisting him, updates about him seeped into her life relentlessly.
The most sensational rumor? That the heir of Hengyi Group had spent his college years "slacking off" by founding the aviation hub SKY and investing in YYBB, Southeast Asia’s first integrated e-commerce platform. Three years later, it went public on Nasdaq.
At the time, Bian Che’s trending hashtags stacked higher than his lifeline. The most impressive part? He’d bootstrapped the venture without a single family dollar, pitching to over 200 investors worldwide before securing funding.
A legacy worth bragging about for life.
While she was drowning in scandals, her nemesis was out there achieving greatness. Salt in the wound.
And now, as if all the rotten luck and terrible people had conspired against her, here she was—stuck making small talk with him.
Ye Shengsheng steadied her breath, masking her unease. "What are you doing here?"
Bian Che looked amused. "Probably here to help you pluck an eyelash~"
His gaze lifted lazily, lips quirking into a taunting smirk. "Though I am surprised you’ve gotten this desperate."
The club’s heat pressed in, Ye Shengsheng’s fair cheeks flushing crimson. Fury simmered in her eyes, her temper teetering on the edge.
Years apart, and she’d almost forgotten—Bian Che excelled at this brand of sarcastic jabs.
She inhaled sharply, crossing her arms to keep her expression neutral. "I only asked for a favor, not to pursue you. No need to be a narcissist and flatter yourself. You’d be better off heading back to your company—"
Her retort was cut off by an obnoxious male voice.
“Hey, if it isn’t the trending queen! Let me call some folks over for a look.”
The speaker was Bian Che’s childhood friend, Sui Yi.
He flashed her a roguish grin, decked out in head-to-toe designer streetwear, his tall frame impossible to ignore. His gaze lingered between them for a few seconds before settling on her face, his tone dripping with implication. "Miss Ye, I didn’t hear a single thing just now."
The thief shouting "Stop thief!"
Ye Shengsheng’s entire body stiffened.
"Name your price," she snapped, unlocking her phone with a forceful swipe and shoving Alipay in his direction. "Open your payment code. One second late, and you’re a coward."
Every movement radiated barely contained fury.
To her shock, Bian Che actually pulled up his payment QR and lazily extended it toward her.
"How much are you transferring?" His voice was slow, laced with amusement.
He’s actually taking it? Ye Shengsheng froze.
Every cent of her money had a purpose—giving him even one yuan felt like a personal loss. After a long internal struggle, she resentfully sent him seventy-four yuan.
…
When Fu Zhicheng returned from the dance floor, the previously empty couch was now packed, men and women drinking and chatting animatedly.
Sui Yi, sprawled on the sofa, waved her over with easy familiarity. "Orange, come play a game with us."
A cloud of cigarette smoke hit her face. She wrinkled her nose, fanning the air. "What are you all doing here? Mooching drinks?"
"Ouch. That hurts, you know," Sui Yi said, clutching his chest in exaggerated pain as he tugged her down beside him.
The second-generation elites of Beijing’s upper crust naturally orbited the same social sphere, their closeness often dictated by their parents’ connections, fracturing into countless smaller cliques. Fu Zhicheng recognized everyone here tonight, though they rarely hung out privately.
And then there was Bian Che.
Fortunately, they all had enough tact not to bring up the cheating scandal or that PDF file.
Fu Zhicheng grabbed a bottle of water from the table, twisting off the cap. "Alright, what’s the scheme this time?"
Sui Yi choked on his drink. "Miss Ye insisted on treating Bian Che to drinks. The rest of us are just here for the ride."
"Sure. Keep lying."
Under the dim, pulsating lights, the DJ switched to a mellower track. The music wrapped around them like a haze, and the two people who usually clashed on sight were suddenly drinking together in eerie harmony. Something was very off.
Fu Zhicheng wasn’t buying it. She shuffled down the couch, squeezing in next to Ye Shengsheng and whispering against her ear, "What’s going on?"
"Nothing."
Faced with her arch-nemesis, Ye Shengsheng had switched to icy detachment, shooting her a frosty glare. This was her embarrassing secret—one she’d take to the grave. If Fu Zhicheng found out, she’d never hear the end of it.
Noticing her silence, Bian Che swirled his glass lazily. "Earlier—"
"Shut up."
Two words in, Ye Shengsheng cut him off, her eyes murderous.
The air between them crackled with tension.
Normally, riling up Ye Shengsheng was Bian Che’s favorite pastime—he’d double down just to spite her. But this time, to everyone’s surprise, he actually obeyed.
Leaning back into the single-seater sofa, he gave Fu Zhicheng a theatrically helpless look before sipping his drink, the picture of smug confidence.
Fu Zhicheng’s eyes widened in disbelief, her inner Yue Yunpeng surfacing. "Oh my god, you two have secrets now!"
"Oh my god!" Sui Yi scrambled to pull her away. "Little ancestor, tonight’s a peacemaking session. Don’t ruin it."
They left, but Ye Shengsheng looked utterly drained, refusing to so much as glance at Bian Che.
He, however, wasn’t done. Finishing the last half of his drink, he leaned in. "You know, my altruistic nature and passion for spreading positivity really deserve more recognition."
Pure provocation. Ye Shengsheng side-eyed him. "I’m buying you drinks to shut you up. The CEO of a publicly traded company can’t even keep one tiny secret? Your employees must be miserable."
Bian Che arched a brow, utterly unbothered. "But I think they’ve got nothing on you—"
"Kicking me while I’m down?!" Her voice pitched higher, fists clenching.
"Just saying, someone’s idea of a peace offering lacks sincerity."
"Fine. Wait."
The smirk on his lips felt like mockery. Ye Shengsheng flagged down a server and ordered every high-proof liquor on the menu.
If blacking out was the goal, knocking out a man required strategy. After several rounds of drinking games, the bottles in front of them emptied fast.
In her mission to outdrink Bian Che, Ye Shengsheng hadn’t held back either. Cheeks flushed, she pushed her hair back and slurred, "Little Shuke… you built a flight base ‘cause too many people wanna assassinate you? Gotta escape to the sky?"
Bian Che had drunk more but held it better. Flicking his lighter open and shut, he countered, "Little Beita, shouldn’t you be driving a tank over Zhu Ze? What’re you doing here drowning your sorrows?"
"I’d run you over first." She crushed an ice cube between her teeth, the sting sharp on her tongue.
…
"Care to share a cup with these gentlemen?"
Under the swirling lights, three women from the next table approached—a common dare in nightlife, doubling as a pickup tactic. The ever-enthusiastic Sui Yi immediately played host, coaxing them to stay.
Fu Zhicheng, feeling outnumbered, fired off a text.
Three minutes later, the club manager arrived with four tall, sculpted male models. Dressed in identical, snug white shirts that strained over defined chests, they were a vision.
Beauty robs wisdom.
Ye Shengsheng, already tipsy, felt her temples throb.
The models were professionals, effortlessly flirty. "Little miss, I’d love a drink with you, but you look underage."
For the first time that night, she laughed. "You’re so cringe."
Another model rolled his sleeves into a makeshift muscle tee, pulling out a lottery ticket. "Think I’ll hit the jackpot tonight?"
Ye Shengsheng: "…"
Somehow, despite her fiancé cheating with her best friend and now being stuck with her nemesis, Du—her stubborn belief in heterosexuality—persisted.
So this was King Zhou’s happiness!
She didn’t look, but she knew Bian Che was watching her. Interpreting it as a challenge, she grabbed her glass and downed five more shots with him.
Then, the room spun.
In her last coherent thought, she conceded: This blackout plan really is trading eight hundred losses for a thousand gains.
She remembered nothing of what was said or heard after.
Like a damp sponge, she was overtaken by reckless vines, dissolving into searing heat.
Dawn tinged the sky when the night finally ended—far too late.
A sliver of light slipped through the hotel curtains, crawling from the foot of the bed to the head. The pristine sheets were wrecked, her porcelain skin littered with red marks.
Exhausted.
So exhausted.
Ye Shengsheng could barely open her eyes, her body aching as if it had been run over by a truck. The familiar ringtone of her phone buzzed faintly by her pillow, and she struggled to reach for it.
As she shifted slightly, a man’s arm slid off her bare waist, and in that instant, any lingering drunkenness vanished.
Had she slept with last night’s male escort?
Hot breath brushed against the back of her ear, the air still thick with the scent of alcohol. She lay naked in someone’s embrace, and when she glanced down, her chest was covered in bite marks. The man’s chest pressed against her bare back, his heartbeat palpable against her skin. The soreness between her legs was an undeniable reminder of just how reckless the night had been.
Under the bright morning light, Ye Shengsheng turned her head with trembling eyelids to look. The man slept soundly, his breathing steady in the quiet room. His face—strikingly handsome—loomed before her, and she sucked in a sharp breath.
That face shattered every ounce of her composure.
Her suspended heart finally dropped like a stone.
