A Twisted Love Affair
Chapter 31: Zhou Luchen, where did you go (2)_1

Chapter 31: Zhou Luchen, where did you go (2)_1

Director Sun had a favor to ask of the United Group, uncertain if his gamble this time would pay off.

Director Sun continued, "She left in tears, having been wronged. It seems she couldn’t find you no matter how hard she looked."

Zhou Luchen glanced indifferently at Director Sun. As the words slowly registered, he laid down the contract in his hand, picked up the suit jacket from the couch, and draped it over his arm.

Director Sun straightened up, looking at the veteran entrepreneurs in the room.

"He might have something to attend to. Please wait a moment," Director Sun said to them.

The entrepreneurs finally had a moment to sip their tea. "It’s fine," one replied.

The banquet downstairs proceeded as usual. The broken china had long since been cleared away, as if nothing had happened.

Zhou Luchen was purely there to discuss business. As for the people present, he never paid them much mind. They weren’t worth his attention. He was after the major profits in Hong Kong, not here. Naturally, he wouldn’t engage much with these people.

"Second Young Master, you’ve come down."

Zhou Luchen, ever poised, did not respond.

His leather shoes made a steady descent down the final step. His gaze briefly fell on the middle-aged man sitting on the sofa—the only person at the scene with a bleeding forehead.

The middle-aged man’s hair, perhaps freshly styled or oiled, gleamed brightly under the lights.

Probably the glare, Zhou Luchen thought as his dark pupils narrowed, and he stopped in his tracks.

Meanwhile, the middle-aged man, clearly intoxicated, was all smiles, chatting and laughing with his companions. He seemed to be discussing something amusing, his clumsy, fat hands gesturing animatedly as if describing a tactile sensation.

A waiter bent down to wipe the blood from the corner of his forehead. The man winced in pain and cursed at the waiter.

"Forget wiping it! I have thick skin; this bit of blood won’t kill me."

Indeed.

Zhou Luchen tossed the suit jacket he was holding to Director Sun behind him and slowly walked toward the man.

Without asking a question or uttering a word, he calmly lifted his foot and kicked Zhao Zhiqiang viciously.

BANG!

Zhao Zhiqiang was stunned. He went sprawling, taking the sofa with him. The brown liquor on the red tablecloth sloshed violently, and glasses overturned and shattered on the floor with a series of CRASHES.

The sudden, loud commotion drew everyone’s attention; all eyes in the room turned towards them.

Zhao Zhiqiang groaned in pain, "Ugh!"

Just seeing the wound was enough for Zhou Luchen to lash out. He wouldn’t have cared even if he’d kicked the wrong man.

Director Sun reflexively stepped back two paces. Young Master Zhou’s strength... Quite fierce. Especially fierce. His power really couldn’t be underestimated.

Before Director Sun even had a chance to mention who Zhao Zhiqiang actually was, Zhou Luchen hadn’t asked a single question; he’d simply found the injured man and kicked him. He was decisive beyond measure, and he appeared incredibly calm. Indifferent. Composed.

Lying on the ground, Zhao Zhiqiang’s head throbbed. "Is... is this day ever going to end? Why are you hitting me?"

Zhou Luchen said nothing. He bent down, grabbed the man’s collar, and ground his thumb into the freshly bandaged wound until blood began to seep out again.

Zhao Zhiqiang wanted to call for help, but he realized no one was going to intervene; people were backing away, apparently afraid of getting hurt themselves.

"What... what are you doing?"

Zhou Luchen remained silent. He released the man, turned, pulled out a tissue to wipe the sweat from his hand, and walked away.

"What happened? Who was that handsome man in the white shirt?"

"Zhou Zhengliang’s only son. The future president of United Group."

"Zhou Luchen?"

"Haven’t seen him before?"

"Never. No wonder Zhou Zhengliang keeps him out of the public eye. Why would he just attack someone the moment he shows up?"

"I’m not sure. Zhao Zhiqiang also had his head injured earlier. There might be some hidden reason. Zhao Zhiqiang is an old hand at... certain things. He might have been up to something shady."

"..."

As Zhao Zhiqiang was helped up, he stared at Zhou Luchen’s retreating back. "Hey, don’t you walk away! Have you no decency? How can you kick someone for no reason at an event like this?"

Zhou Luchen never looked back.

「」

Shen Jing didn’t have Zhou Luchen’s phone number. Even after spending so much time together, neither of them had ever brought it up.

When Zhou Luchen finally found her, she was sitting on the steps by a flowerbed, her face buried in her knees.

The driver’s car was parked in front of her; the driver was on his phone, making call after call.

Shen Jing took a breath. "He’s not answering, is he?"

The driver, holding his phone, said apologetically, "The Second Young Master’s phone is off. Please wait a moment. Any issues will be handled."

Overwhelmed by a sense of grievance, she remained silent.

But at this moment, Zhou Luchen was standing in front of her.

Shen Jing’s black qipao was stained with red wine. The spill had darkened the rose embroidery on her chest, the color accentuating her full contours.

She was sobbing, her breath hitching, her body shaking more violently, causing the embroidered red roses along the slanted placket of her qipao to tremble.

Alluringly disheveled, broken, the harder she cried, the more tumultuous her curves became.

When she had cried her fill, she reached for a tissue. Only when she dazedly looked up did she notice Zhou Luchen.

One second.

Two seconds.

She slowly lowered her head to wipe the tears from the corners of her eyes. "Where did you go?"

Zhou Luchen replied nonchalantly, "Business."

"Can you squat down?" She looked at him. "Hold me."

Zhou Luchen opened his arms. Shen Jing turned her face away; the humiliation she had endured tonight welled up anew, and she wanted him to be the one to squat down and hold her.

He didn’t squat.

Zhou Luchen turned away coldly. "Don’t be difficult."

Proud and cold as Zhou Luchen was, his heartlessness could surface in an instant.

This man, cloaked in an aura of ambiguity, only flirted with her when he was lonely and bored. He had never truly acknowledged their relationship. Though he kept her by his side, he always made sure she didn’t overstep her bounds. Occasionally, he might feign tenderness and say a few coaxing words, but only to satisfy his own desires. He would indulge her requests for this or that, not because he cared for her, but because for him, it was entirely dependent on his mood. Things money could solve were just too easy. How could someone feign kindness to a woman so convincingly, leaving her utterly bewildered, while he himself remained so cruelly clear-headed, never getting emotionally involved?

*Shen Jing, you want to play games with me?*

Shen Jing stood up by herself. Fine. If he wouldn’t hold her, she’d never let him hold her again.

"Where did you go, Zhou Luchen?"

"Why weren’t you there? He groped me! You were the one who asked me to come, but you weren’t there. I searched for you over and over in the crowd and couldn’t find you anywhere. I was so scared."

"He was clearly the one who was drunk! But his wife, for the sake of her so-called ’face,’ turned the tables and falsely accused me."

"How could I fight back? Everyone in there is worth tens of millions at least, and I don’t know any of them! They wouldn’t see the truth. I was powerless to defend myself. They could easily distort the facts, slander me, and have me thrown in jail!"

"He was bleeding! Will he try to get me locked up? When I hit him, it was self-defense! I don’t want to go to jail! I absolutely don’t!"

"I did nothing wrong."

Her voice was especially soft.

Every sentence was a sorrowful accusation, every word steeped in grievance, as if trying to pierce the listener’s very heart.

After a long moment, Zhou Luchen turned back, his expression cold. As she wept inconsolably, he decisively swept her up into his arms.

His action was decisive, almost rough, and took less than a second.

His voice was dangerously low. "And you think you can be with me, with so little backbone?"

A fresh wave of tears overcame her. She pressed her face against his soft shirt, sobbing uncontrollably, her cries ragged.

"I’ve been so wronged!"