Chapter 7: Planning to Force a Deal?

“Uncle, let me ride with you!” Ao’er Shang darted up from behind.

Yucheng Shang refused. “I’m heading back to Yunshui Residence. Have the driver pick you up.”

Ao’er didn’t suspect a thing and turned to ask Jinshang Liang if she wanted to come along.

Jinshang also found an excuse and politely declined.

It was just like Ao’er, so oblivious—even seeing the two of them, who always acted like strangers, being the last ones left, she didn’t ask a single question.

Jinshang slipped into Yucheng’s Bentley. The night breeze only fueled the man’s drunkenness.

His long legs sprawled out carelessly, sliding lower until his head was level with her neck, his left arm tightening around her waist.

The driver in front drove steadily. He was Yucheng’s regular chauffeur, and this wasn’t the first time he’d seen Jinshang and Yucheng in an intimate moment.

But at most, it was just a kiss. Yucheng was always remarkably restrained in public, rarely indulging in excessive displays of affection.

“W-wait…” Jinshang squirmed away. “Not here.”

But whether it was the alcohol or something else, tonight he was uncharacteristically impatient. After she refused him several times, he simply bit down hard on her neck.

“It hurts!” she whispered in pain.

His hand slid lower, and he mumbled, “Be good, baby.”

Jinshang froze. When Yucheng clung to her the most, he always called her that.

It made her almost believe, for a while, that they were truly in love.

That’s why, foolishly, she had carefully prepared to confess to him at her own birthday party.

But she’d accidentally overheard him, his voice flat and disdainful: “She came to me herself, so I’m just having a little fun. The daughter of a convict—does she really dream of becoming Mrs. Shang?”

…

Yucheng’s heavy, alcohol-laced breath fell against her ear—her ears were always sensitive.

She jolted back to reality.

His breath made her body turn weak. She swept aside the chaos in her heart, raised her arms, and wrapped them around his neck.

Never mind whether the driver saw. She’d already decided to throw away her pride—what use was a façade now?

But the man’s heated, chaotic movements slowed. He pushed her away, leaning into the seat, eyes half-closed, teetering between drunkenness and sobriety.

The phone rang.

Jinshang glanced at the screen.

Miyuki Gong.

She reached out to silence it, but Yucheng answered instead, clearly not as drunk as he seemed.

Only after a long conversation did he coax, almost carelessly, “Alright, baby, don’t be mad.”

Jinshang lowered her head, silently smoothing her dress.

So, he used the same endearment for every woman.

A man with women on each arm had to master this skill.

Otherwise, calling the wrong name at the wrong time would spoil the mood.

When Yucheng finally hung up, Jinshang was still leaning against his shoulder. His expression was unreadable as he ordered, “Turn around. To the Gong residence.”

“Mr. Shang…” Jinshang spoke up.

He seemed to notice her for the first time, hesitated, then said, “Stop the car. Let her out.”

Jincheng University was built on the outskirts at the far end of the city. Hailing a cab this late at night would cost hundreds, if one would even go so far.

The car pulled over, but Jinshang didn’t get out immediately.

Yucheng, clearly impatient to see Miyuki, had little patience left. “Still not getting out? What, are you planning to force yourself on me?”

Jinshang knew he’d go to Miyuki tonight, and wouldn’t leave her bed until morning.

Her cheeks flushed. “No… I just don’t have any money. Could you help me call a cab?”

He glanced at her, saying nothing.

But that look made her feel small and humiliated.

The Shang family paid her forty thousand a month for tutoring—five lessons.

That kind of fee, even if not the very top in the industry, was far beyond what a graduate student with no teaching credentials could hope for.

So, they both understood perfectly well how much of her pay was earned by talent, and how much by other means.