Lu Xixiao snorted. “Who knows. It’s not like he lacks people to take care of him.”

Jiang Fan knew about his family matters and also knew that Lu Zhongyue had recently found him a difficult new mother, which had been annoying Lu Xixiao to no end.

He patted Lu Xixiao's shoulder. “Alright, let’s go have some fun.”

The group went to a bar.

Someone called over a few girls.

Lu Xixiao sat in a corner, his long, slender fingers holding a glass. His Adam's apple bobbed as he drank. He didn't say much; it was mostly the people around him talking. He only spoke very occasionally.

But it was precisely this demeanor that attracted girls the most.

Ye Cheng walked past the others and sat down next to Lu Xixiao, holding her glass out to clink against his.

It made a crisp sound.

Lu Xixiao turned his head.

Ye Cheng smiled at him. “Drinking alone? I’ll drink with you.”

Lu Xixiao chuckled lightly, said nothing, and tilted his head back to down the remaining half glass of alcohol.

Ye Cheng had heard the outside world's evaluation of Lu Xixiao: unrestrained and casual, changed girlfriends faster than he changed clothes, a passionate iceberg.

And right now, his actions seemed to be an encouragement to Ye Cheng.

In this kind of environment, just a little bit of closeness could make the ambiguity intoxicating.

Ye Cheng's heart pounded wildly. She tentatively moved closer to Lu Xixiao and linked her arm with his.

He didn't react.

So Ye Cheng relaxed and leaned against him. Her elbow seemed to bump into something. She looked down and saw half a keychain sticking out of his pocket—a blue plush ball.

It really didn't match Lu Xixiao’s vibe.

Curiously, she took it out. There were no keys on the keychain.

“Why aren’t there any keys on it?” she asked.

Lu Xixiao raised an eyebrow. “Did I say you could touch it?”

He was always like this, too direct with his words, showing no courtesy.

Ye Cheng had never met a guy who was so discourteous to her, but she wasn't angry. She hooked the plush ball with her index finger, held it up high, and looked at it while leaning on his shoulder.

“You probably didn't buy this yourself, right?” Ye Cheng asked with a smile. “You don’t seem like the type to like this kind of thing.”

“It was a gift,” Lu Xixiao said.

“It's quite cute, Brother Xiao. Why don't you give it to me?”

She knew Lu Xixiao’s family was rich and had heard he was generous with his girlfriends. Ye Cheng didn't actually want the keychain; she just wanted to use it to create a connection with him.

Lu Xixiao took a drag from his cigarette and said nothing.

Ye Cheng shook his arm. “Please?”

He lifted his chin. “Put it down.”

His voice was still lazy, but this time, it held an inexplicable hint of warning.

Ye Cheng heard it and placed the keychain on the coffee table.

Lu Xixiao leaned over, picked it up, and put the keychain back in his pocket. As he did so, Ye Cheng saw the wound on his arm. It was a cut he had gotten during the fight, and the blood had already dried.

“Brother Xiao, your arm is hurt,” Ye Cheng said. “Do you want to treat it?”

“Too lazy to bother.”

Loud rock music filled the air. Ye Cheng brought her lips to his ear. “I know how. Why don't I help you with it?”

Lu Xixiao turned his head and smiled, his meaning ambiguous. “Oh? Where would we do that?”

Ye Cheng looked at his side profile, turned towards her under the mottled lights. His nose was high, his eyes held a smile, his tone was ambiguous, and he looked both roguish and effortlessly cool.

Ye Cheng's heart skipped another beat. All her senses were easily led by him.

A moment ago she was afraid he was angry, and now he was making her heart flutter.

It seemed that no matter how confident or cheerful a girl was, she would easily become timid in front of Lu Xixiao.

She gathered her courage and took his hand. “Wherever you say.”

The scent of the girl's perfume filled his nose.

Lu Xixiao was used to frequenting these kinds of sensual places and had long grown accustomed to all sorts of perfumes, but at this moment, he suddenly found it pungent.

He recalled the clean, crisp scent of fabric softener on Zhou Wan.

He tugged at the corner of his mouth, suddenly feeling a complete lack of interest, and stood up.

Jiang Fan called out to him, “Ah Xiao, where are you going?”

He waved a hand behind him. “Leaving.”

The night was deep. For a rare change, Zhou Wan went to bed before midnight.

In a half-dreaming, half-awake state, the phone by her pillow suddenly chimed.

She was a light sleeper. She groggily opened her eyes and stared blankly at a spot on the white wall for a long time before her thoughts gradually returned. She looked at the lit screen of her phone.

The light was harsh. She squinted, struggling to see.

[Lu Xixiao] sent a message.

Zhou Wan froze, even thinking she must be dreaming.

She reached out and pinched her thigh. It hurt.

It wasn't a dream.

Why would he send her a message?

It was already twelve-thirty.

All of Zhou Wan's sleepiness vanished. Propping herself up on her elbows, she opened WeChat.

He had sent a picture.

Zhou Wan opened it and immediately recognized his hand.

He seemed to be sitting on some steps, his wrist resting on his knee, the back of his hand hanging down naturally. On his pale arm was a three-centimeter-long wound.

Then, the phone vibrated again.

He had sent another message.

[Lu Xixiao: What do I do?]