The Dinner and the Storm
Jiang Fan tilted his body, resting an elbow on the sofa's armrest while eyeing Xiaoxi from head to toe with his usual casual, youthful grin. That mischievous smile slowly crept across his face.
"Hey, Miss Xiao… I just realized something," he said, his tone light and teasing. "Your skin's so fair, unbelievably smooth, those big eyes, sharp jawline… How tall are you? 178 cm? Oh my God—this is the full supermodel package! You look like a younger Jung Ji Hoon, you know?"
Xiaoxi nearly choked on the water she had just drunk.
Her eyes widened, lips twitching.
WHAT IS THIS?! Jung Ji Hoon? Oh God, don't joke around, kid! If I stood next to a Korean celebrity, people would think I'm the staff carrying their luggage!
She quickly covered her face with both hands, cheeks burning. "Hey, don't say nonsense! I'm just an ordinary person, okay?!"
Jiang Fan burst out laughing, coughing mid-laughter. "Ordinary? Yeah, right. If you walked down a catwalk, people would pay to watch you!"
Xiaoxi could only gape, internally screaming.
Damn this brat! If he keeps praising me like this, I'll die of embarrassment! God, why are the people around Yu Chen all professionals at giving me heart attacks?!
Across the room, Wei Yu Chen sat still, his expression unreadable, yet the fingers holding his crystal glass paused for a brief second. His gaze flicked toward Xiaoxi, as though assessing something—then calmly returned to normal, as if the moment never happened.
Jiang Fan laughed again, slapping his knee. "Hey, Ge…" He turned to Yu Chen, pointing at Xiaoxi with enthusiasm. "This is it! A gold mine! This extinguisher girl could be X-Dragon's next rising star! Hahaha, seriously… she's got that marketable aura!"
"Dream on!" Xiaoxi snapped, her face flushing even redder. What the hell?! I'm a corporate slave, not some entertainment product!
Yu Chen, who had been lounging quietly, merely raised an eyebrow. His cold gaze—deep and unreadable—swept over Xiaoxi, studying her with a silent intensity that made her pulse race.
Xiaoxi's heart skipped violently.
T-t-that devil Yu Chen… why is he looking at me like that?! Don't tell me he's actually considering that brat's idea?! Oh no! I'm not ready to be a victim of X-Dragon capitalism!
The awkward tension was cut short by Aunt Li's gentle voice from the kitchen.
"Young Master, Miss, dinner is ready."
"Alright," Yu Chen set the crystal glass on the side table with composed ease, then rose to his feet. Jiang Fan followed cheerfully, while Xiaoxi—half-panicked and red-faced—lowered her gaze, struggling to calm her racing heart.
The three of them walked toward the dining table as the warm aroma of food filled the elegantly lit room.
Dinner passed quietly. The fragrance of clear soup and roasted meat wafted through the modern dining room, while the soft glow of the chandelier cast a golden hue over their faces.
Then—
Tring… Tring…
Xiaoxi's phone vibrated loudly from the battered bag she had left on the sofa. The sound was jarringly out of place amid the elegant silence, and she froze mid-spoonful.
"Ah… e-excuse me for a moment…" she muttered awkwardly, standing up.
Yu Chen glanced briefly, expression unchanged, then returned to sipping his soup calmly. Jiang Fan hid a chuckle, pretending to focus on his steak.
Xiaoxi fumbled through her bag and found her phone, its cracked screen flashing the name Bald Manager. She held her breath, answering quickly.
"Hello, yes sir… what? The new script draft's been emailed? …Yes, yes, I'll check it right away. Alright, thank you."
When the call ended, she exhaled deeply and returned to the table, smiling awkwardly. "Hehe… sorry for the interruption. That was work. I think I need to head home soon."
Yu Chen said nothing, only shifted his wine glass slightly, showing no intention to stop her. Jiang Fan smiled kindly. "Then let me drive you. It's not safe to go home alone this late."
Xiaoxi instinctively shook her head. "Ah, no need, really—"
But Jiang Fan was already up, swinging the car keys with an easy grin. "No trouble at all. Come on, Miss Xiao. I need some fresh air anyway."
Xiaoxi could only sigh.
God… my life is surrounded by weird men. One capitalist devil, one devil prince. When will my life ever be peaceful?
Finally, they left Wei Yu Chen's residence, Jiang Fan insisting on escorting Xiaoxi home.
After their departure, silence reclaimed the luxurious penthouse.
Yu Chen walked toward his private room with long, steady strides—silent, but heavy with something unspoken.
The modern-minimalist bedroom was bathed in warm golden light that reflected softly off the marble walls and wide glass windows overlooking the glittering night skyline.
Yu Chen unbuttoned his white shirt, hanging it neatly before stepping into the bathroom.
Water cascaded down, running along his broad shoulders and well-toned muscles. Everything seemed to wash away beneath the warm stream—everything but his thoughts, which refused to quiet.
Moments later, he stepped out in a silk white robe. His still-damp hair glistened, droplets sliding along the sharp line of his jaw.
He sat by the desk, opening his laptop. The screen lit up silently, showing rows of incoming business emails—until his eyes stopped on one name.
Li Yuan Bo.
Yu Chen's fingers froze above the touchpad. His gaze hardened instantly, eyes sharp and calculating. His usually calm expression darkened, revealing emotions rarely seen.
A shadow from the past crept in, awakening something long buried. The air in the room grew colder, heavier—thick with tension.
For the first time that night, Yu Chen slowly closed the laptop, exhaling deeply—not in calm, but in quiet turmoil.
The email had been open for just a fraction of a second—long enough for the name Li Yuan Bo to strike through his chest like lightning across a night sky.
He didn't read further. Didn't delete it. Didn't move.
He only stared at the glowing screen as if the words within could devour him whole.
His thoughts swirled chaotically, like a storm devouring everything in its path. The memories he'd locked away were knocking again, carrying the scent of an old wound that never healed.
The silk robe barely clung to him; the room's warmth felt suddenly cold. He inhaled deeply, then shut the laptop with a slow, deliberate motion—as if by doing so, he could bury something far deeper.
But sleep never came that night.
Yu Chen walked toward his king-size bed, the soft white linen barely rustling as he lay down. His eyes stared blankly at the ceiling. That sharp gaze of his no longer held calm—inside him, a storm was raging.
The name Li Yuan Bo echoed in his head, every syllable piercing like a thorn.
Outside, the city sky still glittered beautifully.
But inside the private room of the man known for his composure and control—
the night was nothing short of a tempest.
And without anyone realizing, the storm that had just awakened…
was about to shake everything to its core.