Chapter 2: You Dare Eavesdrop With Such Little Guts
Meng Shuyou tensed up all over, hurriedly explaining, “I didn’t hear anything, I really didn’t mean to, Mister.”
Pei Yuzhou raised his hand to put the cigar to his lips and took a puff, “What’s your name?”
Meng Shuyou’s heart contracted sharply; was this his intention to hold her accountable?
It couldn’t be that bad, could it? She really hadn’t heard anything, and besides, they had only chatted for a few minutes in total.
Her thoughts raced back and forth, feeling uneasy and restless.
In the end, she still answered truthfully, “……Meng Shuyou.”
Pei Yuzhou tapped the cigar lightly on the ashtray without saying a word.
Meng Shuyou didn’t know what he meant, her heart pounding, “Mister, please don’t hold it against me.”
Pei Yuzhou snorted from his nose, “With so little courage, you still dare to eavesdrop like others.”
“I’m not…” Meng Shuyou instinctively wanted to retort but had no way to defend herself.
If she said it was because his voice was pleasant that she couldn’t help listening for a few more minutes, would he believe her?
The assistant nearby had just received a message and softly reminded Pei Yuzhou, “Mister, the helicopter has arrived.”
Pei Yuzhou tossed down the half-smoked cigar, stood up, and strode away.
The assistant quickly followed.
Meng Shuyou watched those two backs and let out a big sigh of relief.
Luckily, he didn’t hold it against her.
Maybe he had something important to attend to and no time to bother.
That man looked too dangerous, like a born leader in power, cold and aloof, unattainably noble.
Someone whom the Johnson Family treated as an honored guest definitely had an extraordinary status.
Meng Shuyou steadied herself for a bit, then returned to the banquet hall and stayed alone in a corner.
Meng Zhenhua was busy networking with business partners and had no time for her at all.
In Bin City, Meng Corporation was a prominent company known to every household, but here, everyone they interacted with were industry tycoons and prestigious families; Meng Zhenhua could only fawn over them shamelessly.
The social circle was a game among capitals; those with ability had greater say.
That man just now was probably someone at the top of the pyramid.
The banquet ended at nine o’clock in the evening.
Meng Zhenhua had drunk quite a bit, his face flushed, reeking of alcohol; as soon as he got in the car, he leaned back in the seat and closed his eyes to rest.
The car drove back to the city center, a one-hour journey.
Meng Shuyou had to return to school; she had an early class tomorrow.
At this hour, there were few vehicles and pedestrians on the road, and traffic was smooth.
The black SUV slowly stopped across the street from the school.
“Miss, we’re here,” the driver reminded.
“Okay.” Meng Shuyou grabbed her bag and reached for the car door.
Meng Zhenhua opened his eyes, suppressed his drunkenness, his voice slightly hoarse, “I’m flying back tomorrow; you stay here and behave yourself.”
He continued to press, “Also, think carefully about what I told you, and do what needs to be done with Ellen.”
Meng Shuyou gripped the bag strap tightly, lowered her gaze, and said obediently, “I know, Dad.”
Back in the dormitory, she tossed her bag onto the bed, pulled out a chair and sat down, then slumped exhaustedly over the desk, her chest feeling oppressed as if something was weighing her down, making it hard to breathe.
What should she do? Compromise again? Obediently listen and become the family’s puppet?
But she didn’t want to be controlled her whole life; that wasn’t the life she wanted.
“Buzz buzz—”
WeChat notification.
Friend Winnie asked her: “Yaoyao, are you back at school?”
Meng Shuyou sat up and typed back: “Just got to the dormitory.”
Winnie gossiped: “Was the banquet fun? Did you meet any new handsome guys?”
Meng Shuyou leaned back in her chair, that deep and rugged face flashing in her mind; his looks were indeed top-notch, but he was also truly terrifying.
She only replied to the first question: “Very boring.”
Winnie: “Alright then, get some early sleep, see you tomorrow.”
Meng Shuyou: “Mm.”
She put down her phone, went to the wardrobe to get pajamas, and took a shower.
–
At seven in the morning, Meng Shuyou woke to the alarm, got up to wash up and get ready.
Before leaving, she applied a light base makeup to cover the dark circles under her eyes.
Last night, she had insomnia until two a.m., and even after finally falling asleep, she kept dreaming, so her sleep quality was poor.
The first class in the morning was fine arts history theory, which was quite dull and boring.
The lecturer was an old professor with a rigid personality and flat tone; every word from his mouth seemed to automatically turn into hypnosis symbols.
Meng Shuyou yawned twice in a row, physiological tears welling in the corners of her eyes.
Winnie next to her found it extremely strange, leaned over tilting her body, and whispered, “First time seeing you drowsy in class; were you out thieving last night?”
“Didn’t sleep well.” She picked up the coffee nearby and took a sip to refresh.
A full day of classes, sustaining life on coffee.
Finally enduring until five-thirty in the afternoon, Winnie stretched lazily, her stomach already growling, “Let’s go eat together; I’m starving.”
Meng Shuyou said while packing her paint palette, “I’m not going; I still have to head to the art exhibition.”
She had taken a part-time job to be a docent on opening day; she had to familiarize herself with all the artworks in advance.
Winnie sighed, “Do you have to work so hard? Your family isn’t short on money; you make me look like a slacker.”
Meng Shuyou asked, “Do you know the difference between Dad having money and Mother having money?”
Winnie was also a 5G surfing pro, having watched plenty of “Deep Love and Rainy Affection” since childhood, “So your dad is Lu Zhenhua?”
Meng Shuyou tugged her lips in a helpless smile, “Yeah, something like that.”
Quite a coincidence; even the names differed by just one character.
She actually envied Winnie quite a bit: an only child, with her mother running her own company to earn money—not super wealthy, but solidly middle-class with good economic conditions and plenty of love; how could such a life not be smooth?
Meng Shuyou quickly packed her things, “Not chatting; I’m heading out, bye.”
Winnie waved, “Alright, good luck.”
–
This week, Meng Shuyou was very busy with almost no time for entertainment or relaxation; besides classes and homework, it was all preparing the art exhibition commentary.
She took this part-time job not just to earn money, but more because there were paintings she really liked among the exhibits; with luck, she might even meet the artist in person.
Unfortunately, two days before opening, she caught a cold, her throat uncomfortable with persistent coughing.
Why catch a cold at a time like this?
Meng Shuyou silently cursed herself for being useless and hurried to the pharmacy to buy cold medicine.
Luckily, it wasn’t serious, with no other symptoms.
On the day of the art exhibition, she went out early, had breakfast, and took a taxi to the exhibition hall.
At eight, the staff gathered, and the curator assigned tasks, each to their duties.
The leaders attached great importance to this art exhibition; all exhibited artworks were by renowned artists.
Madam Kasa was an artist Meng Shuyou greatly admired, a famous portrait painting master skilled at capturing micro-expressions and portraying emotion through delicate brushstrokes.
Her representative work “Looking Back” had won a major art award, portraying a very charismatic woman.
The woman in the painting wore a light-colored dress sitting on a park bench, with a large expanse of blooming hydrangeas behind her, vibrant and lush.
She slightly turned her body to look back, her lips clearly curved upward, yet her eyes revealed an indelible melancholy.
Meng Shuyou examined the painting up close.
These eyes were beautiful, gray-green pupils like a lake.
She couldn’t help thinking of that mister from last time, who also had a pair of deep and captivating green eyes.
Such outstanding looks were hard not to leave a deep impression.
Before the exhibition hall opened, the curator suddenly told her, “This painting has already been bought by a guest; someone should come to pick it up this afternoon, so let me know when they arrive; I’ll receive them personally.”
Meng Shuyou was puzzled, “Isn’t it not for sale?”
It was said to be Madam Kasa’s most cherished work and her masterpiece; she had refused all previous high offers.
Curator: “You don’t need to worry about that; the artist herself has agreed.”
