Chapter 3: Why Can’t It Be Him
After finishing a busy day until five in the afternoon, the person buying the painting still hadn’t appeared.
The visitors had mostly left, so Meng Shuyou took the chance to drink some water to relieve her dry throat.
Just then, her mobile phone rang—it was a call from Meng Zhenhua.
Although she didn’t want to answer, after hesitating for a moment, she still compromised and took her mobile phone to the corridor outside to pick up.
“Any progress with Ellen?” He opened with a question devoid of any feelings.
Meng Shuyou didn’t dare say that she hadn’t contacted Ellen at all.
“I… my courses have been too full lately.”
“How busy can painting be?” Meng Zhenhua wasn’t so easily fooled. “I don’t have high requirements for your studies. As long as you can graduate smoothly, that’s fine.”
She just needed to have a presentable degree so she wouldn’t lose face for the Meng Family.
How could Meng Shuyou not know that.
From the day she returned to the Meng Family, she had already become a chess piece.
She originally thought that once she went to university, she could earn money with a part-time job and gradually break away from the Meng Family. But who knew her older sister would have an accident and need a large amount of medical expenses—she had no choice but to continue being the obedient girl in the Meng Family.
Meng Zhenhua: “The hospital called yesterday saying her mental state hasn’t been good lately.”
Meng Shuyou came back to her senses and hurriedly asked: “What’s wrong with my older sister?”
“Nothing for now.” Meng Zhenhua’s patience was exhausted. “But if you still want her to be okay, then be obedient.”
Be obedient, be obedient, be obedient—these repeated two words had permeated almost her entire teenage years. Whenever she disobeyed or had her own ideas, she would be locked in the room to reflect until she admitted her mistake.
The call ended.
Meng Shuyou’s hand holding the mobile phone dropped, and she stood there in a daze.
She didn’t know how much time passed when a passing colleague called out to her, “Elara, why haven’t you left yet? Everyone else has gone, you can go back.”
Meng Shuyou blinked, her voice a bit hoarse, “Okay.”
She walked absentmindedly toward the elevator entrance.
Passing the corner, she didn’t notice someone coming from the opposite direction and bumped straight into him.
A cool woody scent rushed into her nose, her forehead hitting a solid wall of flesh. She retreated in pain, accidentally twisting her high heels, losing balance and falling onto the carpet.
In front of her was a pair of spotless black men’s Oxford leather shoes, with long, straight, impeccably ironed suit trousers.
Her gaze moved upward—
He stood there looking at her, with no intention of reaching out to help.
After seeing his face clearly, Meng Shuyou froze.
It was the man she had met at the banquet that day.
This face was too distinctive, especially the eyes.
While she was lost in thought, a detached voice came: “Can you get up?”
Meng Shuyou moved her aching ankle, propping herself up with her elbows, still not recovered.
She stayed silent, and the man spoke again: “Do you need me to call an ambulance for you?”
“…No need, I’m fine.” Meng Shuyou knew she couldn’t afford to offend him, so she endured the pain and stood up from the ground. “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention and bumped into you just now.”
Pei Yuzhou glanced at her work badge.
Meng Shuyou nervously pursed her lips, unsure if he recognized her. She had been wearing a mask due to her cold, and the work badge had her English name, so he probably wouldn’t recognize her.
“Where’s your curator?” the man asked.
“Are you here to buy a painting?”
He gave a default nod.
So the buyer of that painting was him.
Meng Shuyou didn’t dare delay. “Please wait a moment, I’ll call the curator for you.”
–
Soon, the curator hurried down from upstairs, invited him to the reception room for hospitality, and then instructed: “Elara, bring in a cup of coffee.”
Meng Shuyou nodded, “Okay.”
She turned to the pantry, made two cups of Americano, and brought them back to the reception room.
They were already signing the contract.
Meng Shuyou approached the table and glanced at the signature—bold, powerful black fountain pen handwriting.
—Kerwin Hers
He was actually from the Herschel Family.
America’s most powerful old money family, with centuries of accumulated wealth, solid status, and industrial chains scattered like stars across the globe.
A crazy thought suddenly popped into Meng Shuyou’s mind.
If she had to cling to a man, why couldn’t it be him?
Whether in power, status, appearance, or temperament, he stood out from the crowd.
Ellen was not comparable to him at all.
Rather than living under the Meng Family’s control her whole life, she might as well find another way.
In her daze, she was startled by her own idea.
Could a man like this really be someone she could approach?
Once she provoked him, the consequences were unknown.
“I’ll have someone deliver the painting to your car,” the curator said with a smile.
The man lightly hummed, “I have other matters, I’ll go first.”
The curator stood up, “I’ll see you out.”
He directly refused, “No need.”
The coffee hadn’t been touched—perhaps he didn’t like Americano, or maybe he didn’t drink cheap outside coffee.
After Pei Yuzhou left, the curator looked at Meng Shuyou, “If there’s nothing else, you can get off work. You worked hard today.”
“It’s what I should do. I’ll head back first.”
After saying goodbye, Meng Shuyou left the reception room and hurried toward the elevator.
She didn’t have time to think too much—opportunity only came once, and missing it might mean it would never come again.
No matter what, she had to try.
Fortunately, he hadn’t gone far.
He was standing at the elevator entrance taking a telephone call, one hand in his pocket, his suit vest outlining a broad back with straight shoulder lines perfectly fitting his figure, exuding masculine charm everywhere.
Meng Shuyou didn’t dare get too close.
Pei Yuzhou had his back to her, briefly instructing the person on the other end of the call. In the next instant, his voice deepened: “Does Miss Meng have some special perversion?”
The Chinese gave an even stronger sense of oppression.
Meng Shuyou’s body trembled suddenly.
He remembered her.
Having seen her only once, and with a mask on, he still recognized her—his insight was terrifying.
The man hung up the call and turned sideways, gazing at her darkly.
“Sorry…” Meng Shuyou hurriedly apologized, “I wasn’t eavesdropping.”
She moved her steps and slowly walked over.
Pei Yuzhou noticed her right foot wasn’t moving naturally when she walked, “Do you need me to pay medical expenses?”
Meng Shuyou shook her head repeatedly, “No, that’s not what I meant.”
How could she dare ask him for medical expenses.
Pei Yuzhou slightly raised his brow, waiting for her to continue.
Meng Shuyou had been focused on chasing after him and hadn’t thought about how to speak.
She had never chased someone before, let alone a man she knew nothing about.
What if he had a girlfriend.
Her moral bottom line wouldn’t allow her to do anything to destroy others’ feelings.
After thinking for a moment, she decided to beat around the bush: “Did you buy the painting to give to someone?”
The man flatly countered: “What does this have to do with you?”
“Sorry, I’m just a bit curious.” Meng Shuyou paused, “Because I really like that painting too…”
Pei Yuzhou showed no extra emotion, “I don’t seem obligated to satisfy your curiosity.”
Meng Shuyou was thin-skinned after all, and being treated coldly deflated the courage she had mustered, “Sorry, I was being presumptuous.”
PS: The background is set abroad, many scenes default to English, so it’s not emphasized too much in the book, but the male and female leads basically use Chinese when exchanging alone.
