Wen Ying had no intention of greeting Yu Wenhao.
“Sorry, boss, I don’t know them. I’d rather pay for ourselves. Could you refund that table’s money after we leave?” she said.
Someone offering to pay, and she wasn’t happy about it?
The barbecue shop owner looked puzzled. Wen Ying lowered her voice, “My family says girls need to be careful out there. We can’t let small favors sway us—there are lots of bad people in society. I don’t know him, yet he paid for us. That feels suspicious, like something a bad guy would do.”
Yu Wenhao was a regular at the late-night food street, often bringing friends, and the shop owner knew him well. His buddies had that rough “street vibe,” and everyone called him “Brother Wen.” The owner followed suit, though he wasn’t sure what Yu Wenhao was really involved in. With those big tattooed arms, he didn’t exactly scream “upstanding citizen.”
Wen Ying might not be a stunning beauty, but she had a youthful charm. Her two friends—one petite and cute, the other tall and aloof—could easily catch the eye of certain types of men.
The owner’s heart tightened. “You’re right to be wary of bad folks. You girls shouldn’t come out late too often. I’ll take your payment—go on and leave quick. I’ll cover for you.”
Surprised by the owner’s sense of justice, Wen Ying smiled. “Thank you, boss! You’re a good person. I hope your business thrives, you make tons of money, buy a house and car, and open ten or eight more branches!”
Her flattery made the owner chuckle, and he even waived the small change when she paid.
Their exchange happened with their backs to Yu Wenhao’s table. Wen Ying grabbed a drink as she left, making it look like she’d just gone to the counter.
Back at the table, Wang Shuang and Geng Xiao were still chatting about the Longtan Lake barbecue. Wen Ying saw the owner head to Yu Wenhao’s table with a few bottles of booze to toast them and whispered to Qin Jiao, filling her in.
Qin Jiao was startled and scared, but seeing the two bodyguards her dad had sent at the next table eased her nerves a bit.
“Jiao Jie, let’s head back. The owner’s stalling Yu Wenhao. We’ll talk more when we’re home,” Wen Ying urged.
The owner often mingled with customers, toasting and drinking to keep them happy. His stocky frame blocked Yu Wenhao’s view completely.
Qin Jiao suppressed her unease and turned to Wang Shuang and the others. “I’m not feeling great. How about we call it a night? We’re meeting up again in two days anyway.”
“Qin Jiao, you okay? You look pale…” Wang Shuang asked.
“I’m fine, just a little dizzy,” Qin Jiao replied.
She suggested Wang Shuang ride with Geng Rao’s family so the driver wouldn’t have to detour.
Wang Shuang wasn’t thrilled but didn’t push, figuring Qin Jiao needed rest.
Qin Jiao and Wen Ying got into their car. Li Mengjiao tugged Wang Shuang’s sleeve. “What’s up with Qin Jiao? Got new friends and forgot us? That Wen Ying’s all secretive, whispering—what’s she hiding?”
Wang Shuang smirked. “Why else did I drag you all out tonight? She’s a shameless bootlicker. You all saw it, right? Only Qin Jiao’s too naive to notice—too much studying’s dulled her senses!”
Geng Xiao stayed quiet. Tang Yifeng’s impression of Wen Ying was neutral—he thought Wang Shuang was exaggerating.
Still, they’d been friends for years, and Tang Yifeng wasn’t dumb enough to defend a first-timer like Wen Ying over Wang Shuang.
“Fine, whether she’s real or fake, a few more hangouts will show her true colors. Didn’t you suggest the Longtan Lake barbecue for a reason?” Tang Yifeng said.
Wang Shuang shrugged. “It’s not about her—she’s not that important. My classmate’s family lives near the lake. They’ve invited me over for holidays tons of times. Barbecuing and fishing are standard, but camping by the lake’s the real fun.”
“Lake camping?” Li Mengjiao raised a brow. “Sounds like mosquito central. What’s fun about that?”
Wang Shuang, seasoned with ex-girlfriends, knew teenage girls loved romance. “Sure, there’s mosquitoes, but also stars and fireflies. If camping’s not your thing, you can crash at my classmate’s place—the biggest agritourism spot by Longtan Lake is theirs.”
Li Mengjiao pictured fireflies dancing over a misty lake. It did sound romantic, so she dropped her objections.
The four chatted as they walked off. Two minutes after Qin Jiao and Wen Ying left, they were in their car too.
By the time Yu Wenhao finished a round of drinks and looked up, new customers had taken Wen Ying’s table. The staff had swiftly cleared the bottles and skewers, seating the newcomers.
The shop’s brisk business and fast table turnover meant Yu Wenhao didn’t notice their exit at first. But half an hour later, when the owner returned from toasting and “suddenly remembered” to refund Yu Wenhao’s payment with an apologetic bow, unease crept in.
“What’s wrong with you?” Yu Wenhao snapped.
“Brother Wen, I forgot earlier. That girl said she didn’t know you and insisted on paying herself. I thought you got the wrong person, so I took her money,” the owner said, feigning nervousness and apologizing profusely.
Yu Wenhao waved him off.
Didn’t know him?
His eyes had barely left Qin Jiao.
It wasn’t her who paid, though—it was Deng Shangwei’s niece, Wen-something, chubby-faced and not too bright-looking.
Unless you were blind, no one who’d seen him would forget him.
Something felt off. Yu Wenhao called Pan Li.
“How’s it going with Deng Shangwei?” he asked.
“He doesn’t want me to keep the baby. These past two days, he’s been pushing me to abort, even offering money as compensation,” Pan Li said, her voice tense. Afraid he’d misunderstand, she swore she’d followed orders. “Like you said, I neither agree nor refuse—just stringing him along. He’s getting frantic, barely focusing on his company.”
Deng Shangwei was generous with Pan Li. If she’d abort and keep it from Chen Li, he’d give her 300,000 yuan. If she didn’t want cash, he’d buy her a house in Rongcheng.
For Pan Li, who’d met Yu Wenhao and Deng Shangwei through nightclub work, 300,000 or a house was a fortune. Fresh grads averaged just over 1,000 yuan monthly—saving that much could take years.
She’d wavered, tempted to take the 300,000 and run. But fear of Yu Wenhao’s retaliation—and greed—held her back. The more generous Deng Shangwei was, the more she dreamed of him divorcing to marry her. Then, it wouldn’t be 300,000—maybe 3 million!
Yu Wenhao, a seasoned player, caught the waver in her tone. He gave her a stern warning over the phone, and his earlier unease faded.
He’d overthought it. Deng Shangwei’s home was in chaos—his mind was on pacifying a pregnant Pan Li, not anything else.
