There were a total of eleven people present today if family members were counted, most of them classmates who used to be familiar with Jin Zhao. Aside from Lu Jingyue, Luo Heng, and Si Tian, Cao Bo and Zhao Yu had also come. Everyone had become the person they once wanted to be in their student days. Luo Heng was now a big-shot lawyer; Si Tian had become a doctor; Cao Bo was still pursuing his doctorate; Zhao Yu had not gone down the arts-student path either, instead advancing through the regular academic track and earning a graduate degree in journalism. She now worked as a radio host and often got to see celebrities.

When former classmates gathered again, talking about people and events from the past, the long nine years of time seemed to be diluted. In Jin Zhao’s heart, an inexplicable surge of emotion arose, as if the heat of youth had not yet cooled.

Feng Chi brought over some rice wine brewed by villagers from the mountain village below, saying it had no alcohol content and that even children could drink it. Jin Zhao sniffed it—it smelled wonderful. Meng Yanxi sat beside her and, seeing her restless eagerness, leaned over to remind her, “Don’t believe that.”

Jin Zhao took a sip. It was sweet, but not cloying, her tongue seeming to soak in the fragrance of the wine. She paid no attention at all to Meng Yanxi’s words, and so, inevitably, she drank too much.

Rice wine tasted like a beverage when you drank it, but its aftereffect was extremely strong. Si Tian sat on her other side, and the two girls huddled together, drinking until they were dizzy, their cheeks flushed red.

Someone who enjoyed stirring things up took advantage of the alcohol to start heckling, bringing up how Jin Zhao’s performance of “Luo Shen” back then—one breathtaking dance—had made her the white moonlight in so many people’s hearts. Zhao Yu laughed heartily and said, “It was okay, I guess—just white moonlight. If I hadn’t injured my leg back then, if it had been me going up, maybe I would’ve debuted on the spot and become a big star by now.”

Everyone burst into laughter, scolding her for being such a beauty yet having such thick skin.

Jin Zhao tilted her head and laughed as well.

Cao Bo seized the moment to stir things up, calling for the big star and the white moonlight to share a dance.

At once, everyone echoed him on the spot. Some knocked on their wine cups, some beat time like conductors, all shouting loudly together: “Dance together! Dance together!”

Stimulated by the alcohol, Jin Zhao felt dizzy. The warm-colored lights refracted watery glimmers in her eyes as she smiled at their teasing. It wasn’t until she met Meng Yanxi’s half-smiling gaze that she reacted a beat too late—so she was the one they were heckling.

Jin Zhao had been eating melon seeds only to have the drama land on herself. She hurriedly waved her hands and said, “I can’t. I haven’t danced in almost ten years, I’ve completely forgotten!”

It had to be said: high school classmates were the best at tripping each other up. Everyone knew everyone else’s weaknesses, and they loved to egg things on. Someone rolled their eyes toward Meng Yanxi beside her and deliberately said, “Then just find someone to dance in your place!”

“That’s right! Find someone to replace you!”

“Yeah! Find the person you’re closest with!”

In matters of love, if you want to tear through that layer of window paper, atmosphere is extremely important. This group was just like they had been in their youth, devoted to creating that atmosphere that pushed feelings forward. Even someone as dense as Jin Zhao felt her heartbeat immediately speed out of control.

Her cheeks flushed pink as she shot a quick glance at Meng Yanxi. Meng Yanxi was also looking at her. The surroundings were noisy, but his gaze was calm. He suddenly let out a low chuckle and said, “I told you not to drink.”

Jin Zhao didn’t know how this, too, could be blamed on her drinking.

Si Tian was still as loyal as back then. Already a little drunk herself, she stood up on the spot, looking full of chivalrous righteousness. “I’ll dance in her place!”

“Come on, Zhao Yu!” Si Tian grandly rolled up her sleeves.

Zhao Yu’s eyes went back and forth between Meng Yanxi and Jin Zhao. Covering her mouth, she laughed and said, “Si Tian, are you made of wood?”

Luo Heng, sitting on her other side, couldn’t bear to look. He tugged her back down. “Sit down, Doctor Ku. No one called for you!”

This bunch was clearly not drunk on the wine but on something else—their intentions were that obvious. Even if Jin Zhao were a block of wood, she could sense it. She hadn’t expected that simply getting out of Meng Yanxi’s car would create such a huge misunderstanding, with the person involved sitting right beside her. She was so embarrassed her toes curled, and she hurriedly explained with a flushed face, “No, you’re misunder—”

“I can’t either.”

Almost at the same time—or a beat slower—Meng Yanxi spoke. His voice was neither loud nor soft, just enough to cover her “clarification.”

Like cold water thrown into hot oil, the scene completely boiled over. Someone didn’t know who led with a mocking remark: “Nobody even asked you, Brother Yan!”

“Hahahahahahaha—what’s that idiom again? ‘No silver here…’”

“‘There are three hundred taels of silver buried right here!’”

“That’s right! Brother Yan, we told Jin Zhao to choose someone she has the most special relationship with to dance in her place—what does it mean that you rushed to say you can’t either?”

“So hard to guess, hahaha!”

……

One after another, they all chimed in, making a complete racket. Laughter and heckling intertwined, as if they had turned the private room back into a high school classroom, determined to flip the roof with their collective madness.

Yet the two people at the center of the storm reacted completely differently.

Jin Zhao’s face was red like a fully cooked shrimp, her toes capable of clawing out a luxury villa for herself. She was already twenty-six this year, yet because of her lack of experience, she was still like a girl harboring secret feelings—flustered at the critical moment just before being exposed.

Her heartbeat thudded against her ears, louder than her classmates’ heckling. Her eyes were moist, as if washed with water. Uneasily, she looked toward the person she cared about, afraid that being exposed face-to-face would leave a shadow for a lifetime, forcing her to avoid him for the rest of her days just to escape the embarrassment. Yet she saw Meng Yanxi sitting there unperturbed, long fingers holding a red wine glass, calmly swaying it in the face of everyone’s teasing.

Voices clamored all around. He turned his head to look at her, the wine-red liquid rising and falling ambiguously along the clear glass.

With a thump, it was as if fireworks exploded in Jin Zhao’s chest.

She stared at him with eyes wide open, not blinking once, unsure whether she was looking at the person from her dreams, or reflecting on whether this itself was nothing more than a dream.

Suddenly, her lashes fluttered slightly. She quickly looked away and murmured, “I’m going to the restroom.”

Perhaps the aftereffect of the alcohol was too strong, or perhaps she stood up too quickly—her leg went weak and she nearly lost her balance, her body swaying. Meng Yanxi stood up at the same time, his strong hand firmly supporting her waist.

Jin Zhao’s head crashed into his chest. The man’s chest muscles were solid, and the scorching warmth of his palm transmitted through the thin fabric to her body.

As if dazed for a moment, she held that position for an instant. Time seemed to pause; the heckling vanished, everything freezing in place. A beat later, she snapped back to herself, hurriedly pushed him away, and left, never daring to lift her head to look at him the entire time.

In the restroom, Jin Zhao turned on the faucet. Icy water rushed out. She wanted to splash cold water on her face to calm herself down—to not be misled by the romantic atmosphere her classmates had whipped up through their madness and lose her reason, mistaking it for true love. Yet when she saw her reflection in the mirror, a no-makeup look that seemed effortless but was actually carefully done, she immediately abandoned the thought.

Forget it. The makeup couldn’t be ruined.

When she returned to the private room, the heckling had already stopped. When this group wasn’t acting crazy, they were actually quite proper. As Jin Zhao pushed the door open, she happened to hear the boyfriend a classmate had brought asking Meng Yanxi about investments.

He said he currently had a few million in spare cash and didn’t know whether he should buy property or invest in something else, asking a big shot to give him some guidance.

The posture was far too humble. Someone who enjoyed stirring trouble immediately took out their phone to record him, while everyone else laughed. Meng Yanxi sat in the seat of honor, his face devoid of expression, wearing his usual cold demeanor. This made Jin Zhao once again believe that the extremely faint smile he had shown earlier amid the teasing had been her illusion.

Compared to him, even Lu Jingyue—who wasn’t exactly easy to get along with—seemed approachable. Smiling, he smoothed things over. “Investments have gains and losses. Meng Yanxi isn’t a god—if you lose money later, whose fault will it be?”

It left both sides a graceful way out. The other party understood and didn’t press further.

Jin Zhao returned to her seat. She looked fairly calm on the surface, but her heart was full of yearning for that “few million in spare cash.”

She really wanted to have such troubles too—she really wanted to take a few million in idle money and ask a big shot for guidance, only to be completely ignored by Meng Yanxi. Let her suffer that kind of hardship!

Meng Yanxi glanced at her and suddenly spoke. “Buy gold.”

Even Lu Jingyue, who understood him best, hadn’t expected him to relent, and looked over at him.

Meng Yanxi’s gaze was cool and distant, his eyes sweeping past Jin Zhao.

The other party clearly hadn’t expected it either. He had only thought to gamble a bit, never imagining he’d actually get an answer from a top-tier big shot like Meng Yanxi. After freezing for a moment, he greedily asked, “All in?”

This was a bit too much—even his girlfriend couldn’t stand it anymore and shot him a fierce glare.

Meng Yanxi indeed ignored him after that.

Jin Zhao silently made a note to herself: once her settlement money came in after the holidays, she would buy gold. Buy it. Immediately.

There were two groups at the scene. One group, like Jin Zhao, was thick-skinned and quietly kept a mental notebook, trying to get rich by following the big shot. The other group was more perceptive—Zhao Yu, for example. Sensing that the atmosphere had grown slightly delicate, Zhao Yu smiled and changed the subject. “Oh right, I heard some fresh gossip yesterday.”

Because of her job, Zhao Yu often came into contact with people from the entertainment industry. Gossip from that place always came in clusters—true and false mixed together, outsiders unable to glimpse it—so it made people all the more eager to hear something from an “insider.”

Cao Bo immediately asked, “What gossip?”

Luo Heng asked too, “How fresh is it?”

Zhao Yu suddenly looked at Luo Heng and said after a moment of thought, “Come to think of it, Lawyer Luo, you should know about it too.”

“You mean it’s related to me?” Luo Heng pointed at himself.

“Not related to you, but your circle should all know about it.”

Luo Heng was quick-witted. With Zhao Yu’s few hints, his thoughts turned once and he immediately understood. “You mean that thing with the Wu family?”

Zhao Yu said, “Exactly. That statement about severing the father-daughter relationship in the Wu family. I saw that the seal on it wasn’t from your firm, but I figured you’d know about it.”

Luo Heng tugged at the corner of his mouth and said, “Wu Liang did approach me. I didn’t take it. I don’t need that kind of immoral money.”

When Jin Zhao heard the name “Wu Liang,” her eyelid twitched lightly.

The others present had already begun chattering at once, pressing for details:

“What statement about severing a father-daughter relationship? Elaborate!”

“These days, people still sever father-daughter relationships? It’s not the Republic era anymore.”

“Who is Wu Liang? Don’t tell me it’s the Wu family in the east of the city—that family is old money!”

“Is there a female celebrity with the surname Wu? I’ve never heard of one.”

“Now that you mention it, I actually thought of someone—Wu Nian! She’s not really a female celebrity, just an ordinary entertainer. She came out of a singing talent show many years ago. Back then I was a face fan of hers, but later I realized her looks and personality weren’t very distinctive, so I quickly stopped being a fan and became a passerby. I heard she later acted in a few unnamed supporting roles—more like an extra. If that even counts as a female celebrity.”