Chapter 19: What’s the Point of His Heartache?

Inside the Metro Club, the music blared deafeningly, and the men and women on the dance floor wore revealing outfits, moving wildly, releasing their hormones without restraint.

Shen Yuezhou’s face was as dark as thunderclouds, his steps hurried as he made a beeline for the exclusive upstairs private room.

Along the way, the waitstaff caught sight of him, hastily lowering their gazes and stepping aside, fearful of incurring the wrath of this gentleman’s bad mood.

He arrived at the door of the private room, suffused with a heavy, oppressive aura. Without hesitation, he thrust the door open with a loud bang, causing the crystal ornaments hanging on it to sway and chime sharply.

Stepping inside, Shen Yuezhou sank into the sofa and grabbed a glass of whiskey prepared on the table, tilting his head back and downing it in one gulp.

The fiery liquor burned down his throat, yet the inferno of anger within his chest only grew fiercer, stubbornly refusing to subside.

Cheng Jun hurried after him, glancing at Shen Yuezhou’s forlorn, drowning-his-sorrows posture and sighed inwardly.

Quickly, she pulled out her phone to call a few friends they often drank and played with.

Before long, everyone had arrived, but the private room was oppressively quiet, broken only by the sound of Shen Yuezhou gulping down his drink.

Liu Zichen raised his glass and strode over to Shen Yuezhou, shouting at the top of his lungs, “Young Master Shen, don’t just drink alone like this. Come on, brother, let’s drink together and shake off those troubles!”

Shen Yuezhou seemed not to hear him. Expressionless, he took another heavy swallow, the whiskey dripping down the corner of his mouth, soaking into his collar.

He wore a black shirt today, its collar slightly undone, revealing a delicate collarbone and a small patch of sun-kissed chest.

The sleeves were casually rolled up, exposing strong, muscular forearms with veins slightly bulging, exuding a wild tension.

His bangs were tousled messily, emphasizing the depth of his brows and eyes, while a trace of alcohol stain lingered at the corner of his mouth, adding an inexplicable air of laziness and rebellion.

Chu Feiyu nudged Cheng Jun with his elbow, raising an eyebrow as his gaze fell on the bruises on Shen Yuezhou’s face. “What happened to his face?”

Cheng Jun leaned closer and whispered, “Gao Qian did it. All because of that Shiyun.”

Surprise flickered in Chu Feiyu’s eyes as he quickly glanced at Shen Yuezhou, then pursed his lips and muttered, “Gao Qian? When did that guy come back to the country? Sounds like he’s clearly backing that girl.”

The group moved in similar circles and were not strangers to Gao Qian.

Nearby, Li Hao, never one to spare a moment, shouted, “Gao Qian dared to hit Young Master Shen for standing up for Shiyun? Does he have a death wish?”

Shen Yuezhou, who had been silently drinking, paused, his eyes sharpening to an eagle-like gaze as they coldly swept over Li Hao with an icy edge that made one shiver.

His eyes, reddened slightly from alcohol and anger, his tightly pressed thin lips curled in a faint sneer, bearing no warmth, only scorn.

Moments later, he withdrew his gaze, picked up his glass, and downed another large gulp, as if trying to swallow all his frustrations whole.

Chu Feiyu tugged at Li Hao, signaling him to keep quiet. “If that punk Gao Qian dares to make a move, we’ll find a chance to teach him a lesson, to vent for Young Master Shen.”

Liu Zichen chimed in, “Exactly. Our brother can’t just take this kind of loss silently. He needs to know the consequences of messing with our Shen.”

Cheng Jun snorted coldly, “If it weren’t for consideration of Shiyun, Young Master Shen wouldn’t have let Gao Qian off so easily back then.”

At this, Li Hao couldn’t help but ask, “But didn’t he dislike Shiyun? He publicly dumped her at the engagement banquet. Why is he so heartbroken now?”

Cheng Jun rolled her eyes and shrugged helplessly. “Love’s a strange thing. Even Young Master Shen probably didn’t expect to care so much for that girl.”

Li Hao lifted his glass, gulped down a large mouthful, and smacked his lips. “Women, huh—never lacking something.”

He then beckoned toward the door, and a few elaborately dressed girls sashayed in, swaying their hips.

He puckered his lips at them, signaling to sit beside Shen Yuezhou.

As the girls approached, Shen Yuezhou glanced up, his eyes catching a girl dressed in a pale blue qipao. Her features bore a subtle resemblance to Shiyun.

His hand holding the glass faltered slightly.

Li Hao noticed the shift in Shen Yuezhou’s gaze immediately. He quickly stopped the other girls and only allowed the one in the qipao to stay, whispering, “Just you, keep Young Master Shen company with a few drinks.”

The girl giggled flirtatiously and was about to sit beside Shen Yuezhou.

Suddenly, Shen Yuezhou reached out, his long fingers gripping her wrist firmly and pushing her away with force.

The girl staggered, nearly falling, her face full of astonishment as she looked at him.

Shen Yuezhou furrowed his brow, his eyes filled with disdain. His thin lips parted coldly to utter a single word: “Leave.”

Then he lowered his head and resumed drinking in silence, the veins on his neck slightly bulging, exuding a wild, sensual energy.

Seeing their efforts to comfort him fail, the group exchanged uneasy glances. Liu Zichen scoffed, “Looks like Young Master Shen’s fire’s not out yet. Best not to provoke him for now.”

Li Hao scratched his head awkwardly. “I was just trying to cheer him up. Who knew he’d be so ungrateful.”

Chu Feiyu shrugged and sank back into the sofa. “Let him be for a while.”

So the group gave up bothering him and each found a seat to drink and chat.

At Apartment One.

Shiyun tilted her head slightly, her hand casually undoing the buttons of her qipao at the chest, her movements lazy yet sensually alluring.

She rose and walked into the bathroom.

Soon, the sound of water pattering filled the room.

Mist and steam diffused throughout the space.

Shiyun stood under the showerhead, hot water cascading down her sleek black hair, flowing over her fair, gracefully contoured back like a masterpiece ink painting.

After a while, she stepped out of the bathroom, her jet-black hair damp and cascading down her back, a few strands clinging to her pale cheeks, enhancing her cold, ethereal beauty.

She wrapped herself loosely in a white cotton bathrobe, which hung off her frame.

As she moved, the robe slipped gently off her bare shoulder, revealing a small patch of porcelain-like skin.

Carelessly tightening the bathrobe’s belt, she walked over to the sofa.

Before she could sit, Jiang Zhiyu hurried over, handing her a phone while raising his chin. “Finished washing? Your phone kept ringing just now. Don’t know who’s so eager to reach you.”

Shiyun took the phone, her slender, fair fingers swiping the screen to unlock and check.

Seeing several unknown numbers on the caller ID, she furrowed her brow slightly, a trace of puzzlement flashing in her eyes.

Jiang Zhiyu leaned closer and casually asked, “Who’s it from?”

Shiyun gently set the phone down, lifted her hand, and slowly ran her fingers through her damp hair.

Drops of water slid down her arm, tracing over her skin as smooth and radiant as jade.

She tilted her head slightly and said, “No idea—maybe a wrong number.”