Chapter 9
Jiang Zhou wore a black sweater with a subtle woven pattern beneath a silver-gray overcoat, his brows faintly furrowed as he stared at Chen Ju with a cold gaze.
A beautiful woman stood beside him, holding on to his other arm.
“A-Zhou, do you know this server?” Liu Shengyue asked in surprise.
The words “A-Zhou” pierced Chen Ju’s ears like a sharp embroidery needle. A sudden ache shot through his heart. He stared blankly at the woman, forgetting to look away.
Was she Jiang Zhou’s girlfriend? She was so beautiful. The two of them looked so well matched, like a prince and princess straight out of a fairy tale.
“Mm. We were high school classmates,” Jiang Zhou said coolly, then shot a cold glance at Liu Jingque beside him.
Liu Jingque hurriedly explained, “I didn’t do that to his face! It was already like that when I took off his mask!”
“All right, A-Zhou. I’ll apologize to you on Jingque’s behalf. Don’t hold it against him; he’s just a kid.” Liu Shengyue smiled brightly, then turned to Chen Ju and said gently, “Hello, A-Zhou’s classmate. I’m A-Zhou’s friend. My younger brother was thoughtless just now, so I apologize to you on his behalf.”
Meeting her warm, tender gaze, Chen Ju’s cheeks suddenly flushed. He hurriedly lowered his head and fidgeted with his fingers. “It’s... it’s all right.”
Chen Ju’s reaction stirred a tender feeling in Liu Shengyue. “Have you had dinner yet? Why don’t you join us? I’ll let your manager know. It’ll be fine.”
Chen Ju was overwhelmed by her kindness. This was the first time anyone had treated him so gently, and for a moment he didn’t know what to say. His face flushed bright red. Just as he was about to speak, a powerful hand clamped around his arm, pain shooting through to the bone.
“No need. I have something to discuss with him alone.” Before Chen Ju could react, Jiang Zhou grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the private room.
Jiang Zhou had long arms and legs, and strode ahead without sparing a thought for Chen Ju. Chen Ju stumbled along behind him, forced to run just to keep up.
When they reached an empty hallway, Jiang Zhou abruptly let go. Chen Ju barely managed to stop without running into his back.
Jiang Zhou turned around and looked at him coolly. His face was impassive, betraying not a hint of emotion.
Chen Ju grew nervous. He could tell Jiang Zhou was angry, though he had no idea why.
“Have you decided about what we discussed last night?” Jiang Zhou’s tone was flat, as if he were talking about the weather.
Chen Ju clenched the hand hidden in his sleeve and lowered his head, staring at his yellowed sneakers, their toes pointed toward Jiang Zhou’s gleaming, expensive leather shoes.
“Chen Ju.” When Chen Ju didn’t answer, a hint of displeasure entered Jiang Zhou’s voice. He rarely called Chen Ju by his full name; usually, all it took was a glance, and Chen Ju would come scurrying over.
Chen Ju started picking at the button on his cuff and said in the faintest voice, “Not yet. I... need to wait until the three days are up.”
“You mean you’ll only give me an answer once the three days are up?” Jiang Zhou was growing impatient. He stepped closer, pinning Chen Ju between the iron door and the wall.
Jiang Zhou’s scent filled Chen Ju’s nostrils. Despite himself, Chen Ju blushed, and his heart began to race uncontrollably. He hurriedly stepped back and pressed his clenched hand to the left side of his chest. At such close range, he worried Jiang Zhou might hear his heartbeat.
“Mm. There are... still two days.” Chen Ju was so nervous that he stuttered again.
“What difference would that make?” Jiang Zhou lowered his eyes, his gaze lingering on Chen Ju’s swollen cheek as he reached out.
When Chen Ju glimpsed the hand reaching toward him, he thought Jiang Zhou was angry and about to hit him. He instinctively closed his eyes.
Jiang Zhou’s hand stopped. His eyes turned cold, and the next second he pinched Chen Ju’s soft earlobe, tightening his grip. “Or are you trying to add conditions?”
His earlobe was caught between Jiang Zhou’s fingers. It hurt and tickled, making him uncomfortable, but Chen Ju still let out a sigh of relief. At least Jiang Zhou hadn’t punched him. Jiang Zhou’s punches really hurt.
Hearing Jiang Zhou’s question, Chen Ju hurriedly explained, “No, I wasn’t trying to negotiate any conditions. I just...”
“You can make demands if you want.” Jiang Zhou interrupted him, not interested in hearing the rest. “Think them over and write them down. I’ll wait for your answer.”
That contemptuous look extinguished Chen Ju’s urge to explain. His chest ached terribly, tight and stifling.
Jiang Zhou let go. The swollen spot on Chen Ju’s cheek seemed to have been touched, but only briefly—so briefly that Chen Ju thought he’d imagined it.
He blinked his dry eyes, and a red banknote came into view. Jiang Zhou’s cool, detached voice sounded: “Buy some ointment and put it on. It looks ugly.”
Chen Ju froze, still unable to react as the money was pressed into his hand. Jiang Zhou turned and left without a moment’s hesitation. The only sound in the hallway was his expensive leather shoes striking the marble floor, growing fainter and fainter until Chen Ju could no longer hear them.