CHAPTER 280: 279 YOUNG MASTER TASTES THE BITTERNESS OF LOVE_1

Behind the half-open door.

Shen Jing sat in the living room, silently staring at the black Bible and red roses before her, her mind blank and idle. I will marry you. Only those three words echoed in her thoughts.

She glanced again at the diamond ring nestled within the Bible; its craftsmanship was exquisite, clearly a collector’s piece.

From outside, the occasional sound of suppressed coughing could be heard.

After a long while.

"Is his cold really that bad?" Shen Jing’s question was directed at Zhuang Ming.

Zhuang Ming, paid to be at the villa, was still grinding coffee, finding himself in an awkward position.

With an air of detachment, Zhuang Ming replied, "I haven’t been around the Second Young Master recently, so I wouldn’t know."

Shen Jing abruptly stood up, went upstairs to find the medicine box, located a package of capsules, and hurried back down. She walked towards the half-open door, searching for that solitary, desolate figure.

But on the five steps leading to the entrance, only four cigarette butts remained.

The black fleet of executive cars was, at that moment, departing Beverly Manor in an orderly procession.

Suddenly appearing behind her, Zhuang Ming asked, "Do you want to go after him? Shall I call and ask him to come back for the medicine?"

Shen Jing clutched the medicine box tightly and returned to her room. "No need," she said. "He has doctors to look after him."

"Give it to me." Zhuang Ming took the medicine box from her hand. "I’ll deliver it for you."

Zhuang Ming drove quickly. The executive fleet, bound by safety speed restrictions, was soon overtaken as he caught up to the escorted black Mercedes-Benz S-Class AMG.

As the car window slowly descended, Zhuang Ming said, "Miss Shen sent this. She might have taken a few minutes to get the medicine upstairs; she had already come down."

Zhou Luchen took the medicine and closed the car window without a word.

Zhuang Ming stood motionless, watching the convoy of luxury cars disappear.

I should get a raise next year, he thought. The boss is the most generous.

Zhuang Ming returned to the manor.

The scenery here was beautiful, the environment tranquil. The various wealthy individuals rarely ventured out.

The mansions, constructed almost entirely of high-strength bulletproof glass, allowed Shen Jing to clearly see the departing executive fleet from the second or third floor. The cars flashed their hazard lights as they departed along the sole path.

Shen Jing felt a sting in her nose. She found the control panel and pressed a button. All the floor-to-ceiling sheer curtains, both upstairs and downstairs, slowly closed, shutting out the scene.

Similarly, the young nobleman seated in the back of the car gazed at the brightly lit mansion on the hilltop through the car window, watching the white sheer curtains close.

Shen Jing had no desire to watch Zhou Luchen’s departure any longer. She walked to the outdoor movie screen, sat cross-legged on the sofa, and watched a Thai drama about a wealthy family’s love affair playing on the 4-meter-wide screen.

She tried to watch intently, but she couldn’t recall what it was about.

It was only when Zhuang Ming picked up the remote and switched off the Thai audio that she showed some reaction, looking back in confusion.

She had started drinking again; an opened bottle of red wine was half empty.

Zhuang Ming had no intention of trying to persuade her and turned to leave.

It seems Shen Jing has all thirty-six of Sun Tzu’s stratagems up her sleeve, he thought. The Beauty Trap, Removing the Firewood from Under the Cauldron—she naturally possessed them all.

A young nobleman who roamed the glittering world without ever losing his heart, who had never known hardship, now tasted the bitterness of the Beauty Trap for the first time.

Later that night, Shen Jing fell asleep on the sofa. Zhuang Ming couldn’t possibly carry her, and he called her name for a long time.

She didn’t respond.

"Shen Jing, it’s raining. Come downstairs to sleep."

When Zhuang Ming used her full name, she finally opened her eyes.

"The canopy," she mumbled. "Open it."

Zhuang Ming stated flatly, "It’s thundering. It’ll scare you to death."

Only then did Shen Jing manage to get up. Zhuang Ming bent down, picked up the Bible and the ring from the table, and put them away carefully for her.

When it rained, it poured—a torrential downpour, no less.

Sometimes, Zhuang Ming considered things from a different angle. Perhaps I understand Second Young Master Zhou’s romantic entanglements best. In this dazzling world, temptations and seductions are everywhere. Given the Second Young Master’s philandering nature, it wouldn’t be surprising if he turned around and started flirting with another girl.

The Zhou Family watched him like a hawk, yet they couldn’t stop the Second Young Master from dallying with a famous star one day, a teahouse songstress the next, and then, the day after, reminiscing about an old flame and even helping her out.

A leopard can’t change its spots. Dating is all well and good, but marriage? Unreliable. Still, a prodigal’s promise to return is worth more than gold.

-

The media was peddling two rumors. One was that Joanna and Zhou Luchen were like a sugar daddy and his canary, suggesting the United Bank president might not marry the young model.

The other was that Zhou Luchen had severed ties with his own father for Joanna’s sake, but due to the Zhou Family’s prestigious status, a heartbroken Joanna refused to marry him.

That night, both discussion threads were wiped clean.

Joanna closed her comments section.

What was the use? Netizens’ minds couldn’t be wiped clean. Half of them were accustomed to media gossip, treating it as if nothing had happened. The other half, Joanna’s fans, believed the second rumor. They fretted over their idol’s love story, set against the backdrop of high society among the Eastern elite—a world a model couldn’t easily enter—and continued to discuss it.

Zhou Luchen had fallen seriously ill. Since returning from Los Angeles, he had been bedridden, mostly sleeping, and his meetings were postponed.

He lay on his side, bundled in his quilt.

The doctor had medicated Zhou Luchen. His fever would break only to return. The shower water was too cold, and plus, he was a germaphobe and had to shower every morning and evening.

Exhausted, the doctor asked, "There’s women’s body wash in the bathroom and two toothbrushes. Is your muse perhaps absent?"

Zhou Luchen reached out, fumbled for his phone on the nightstand, transferred money to the doctor, and then tossed the phone aside.

"Leave my house."

His tone was curt and cold as ice.

Seeing the medical fee payment, the doctor was delighted. He bent down to leave the medicine, almost ready to kneel and kowtow. "This is lovesickness, sir. My medical skills aren’t to blame."

Zhou Luchen didn’t reply, merely gestured for the doctor to turn off the lights and close the door. He lay alone in silence on the bed, trying to sleep.

His phone screen lit up briefly.

A message from Zhuang Ming: "Miss Shen has returned to China. She took your Bible with her. Her niece, Jia He, is having a birthday, so she was in a hurry to go back."

Zhou Luchen turned off his phone and closed his eyes.

He plunged completely into darkness.

Never had he imagined he would actually end up following a path suggested by a vixen—a path he himself had never once considered.