Chapter 12: Taking Action

The bridesmaid couldn’t help but laugh upon hearing this, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “You need to muster courage too?”

“Of course.” Wei Tingxia nodded with exaggerated seriousness. “I have some insecurities and don’t like comparing myself to others.”

The bridesmaid burst out laughing, her fingertip lightly tapping the wine glass in her hand. “You don’t need to compare yourself to anyone else, and I think very few people can measure up to you.”

Wei Tingxia’s outward appearance was exceptionally outstanding, and from their current interaction, he seemed witty as well. The bridesmaid took a strong liking to him.

“Really?”

Wei Tingxia feigned surprise upon hearing this. “Very few people praise me like that.”

“That must be because everyone in your circle is too modest.”

As she spoke, the bridesmaid subconsciously glanced back toward the banquet hall. It was meant to be a casual glance, but when her gaze swept over the corner booth, it suddenly met a deep, intense stare.

The man in the booth was dressed in a sharp suit, the diamond on his cufflinks glinting coldly under the lights. He wasn’t wearing a tie, only a dark-patterned silk scarf pinned at his collar, his sharp brows furrowed with an inscrutable gloom.

The bridesmaid didn’t know him, but she had vaguely heard Xu Wei mention him before and knew he was Lu Zhao’s good friend.

She initially thought the gaze was directed at her, but after two seconds of observation, she realized the man’s line of sight had passed over her and landed on the person beside her.

And only one person stood next to her.

Noticing that the bridesmaid had fallen silent, Wei Tingxia asked, “What’s wrong?”

The bridesmaid withdrew her gaze and shook her head. “Nothing.”

Her response was hesitant, her eyes filled with uncertainty. She had approached to chat with Wei Tingxia because he was handsome, but she wasn’t fixated on him. If he truly had some connection with that man from earlier, she shouldn’t intrude.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

Wei Tingxia pressed, following her line of sight toward that side. He happened to see someone stand up from the booth and walk toward them.

“What are you talking about?” Yan Xinfeng asked.

“Nothing much,” Wei Tingxia grabbed his sleeve and pulled him to his side. “Want an introduction?”

The bridesmaid recovered from her half-second of shock.

“Hello,” she extended her hand. “I’m Ailin.”

Yan Xinfeng shook her hand, concise as ever. “Yan Xinfeng.”

Wei Tingxia grinned beside them. “And I’m Wei Tingxia.”

“Oh, hi,” Ailin laughed too. “I heard Vivi call you Xiao Xia.”

At that moment, Yan Xinfeng withdrew his hand and turned to face Wei Tingxia, saying flatly, “I’m going to make a phone call.”

He was telling him about something as trivial as making a phone call?

Wei Tingxia raised a brow but cooperated without exposing him. “Sure, go ahead.”

Yan Xinfeng left.

When Wei Tingxia turned back around, Ailin’s probing gaze had unsurprisingly vanished, replaced by a soft smile. “You two are really cute.”

Xu Wei at least returned to the country every few years and was relatively reserved, but Ailin was a homegrown overseas Chinese, with an extremely open personality.

It was the first time Wei Tingxia had heard someone praise them like that, and he was momentarily stunned. “Really?”

“Really,” Ailin nodded. “He was watching you the whole time.”

Rationally, Wei Tingxia believed Yan Xinfeng had been watching to prevent him from finding a richer woman to seduce, but emotionally, at least in front of Ailin, he didn’t show it.

“He’s pretty clingy,” Wei Tingxia said without hesitation. “And has a pretty blunt temper.”

Neither trait was prominently displayed in Yan Xinfeng, but whatever he said went—Ailin just smiled and listened.

The atmosphere was perfectly harmonious for a moment, but then a discordant voice intruded.

“What are you two chatting about?”

Wei Tingxia turned his face sideways, and when his gaze landed on the newcomer, undisguised annoyance flashed in his eyes.

Though Ailin didn’t recognize the man, she keenly sensed the suddenly tense air and replied politely but distantly, “Just chatting casually.”

“Mind if I join?” the man asked.

“Yes,” Wei Tingxia cut him off bluntly, his tone cold. “No one invited you.”

The newcomer ignored his obvious rejection and turned to Ailin instead. “I’m Wang Chong.”

Ailin’s brows furrowed slightly, but she maintained basic courtesy. “Hello.”

“Are you chatting with him?” Wang Chong asked.

Ailin nodded. “Yes, is there a problem?”

Wang Chong laughed. “Then you should be careful. He’ll cheat every penny from you and then vanish.”

The remark seemed like a joke, but Wang Chong said it dead seriously, his gaze toward Wei Tingxia filled with unconcealed malice—it was clear there was bad blood between them.

He was the only one on the entire ship who hadn’t played pool with Wei Tingxia because seven years ago, Wei Tingxia had kicked him to the ground in front of many people, making Wang Chong lose face badly.

Lu Zhao knew about that incident, but he hadn’t expected Wei Tingxia to suddenly return, nor had he anticipated that Wang Chong still held a grudge after all these years, leading to today’s conflict.

Ailin’s fingertip paused lightly on the rim of her glass. The refracted light spots danced on her finger like some uneasy signal.

Before she could figure out how to respond to the sharp accusation, Wei Tingxia let out a low chuckle.

“Don’t worry, even if I scam money, it won’t be from you,” he told Wang Chong. “You really don’t meet my standards.”

Wang Chong sneered, his voice rising. “Scamming money has standards now?”

“Others might not, but I do,” Wei Tingxia said earnestly. “I’d only consider you after every rich person in the world drops dead.”

This should have been a tense standoff, but Ailin still couldn’t help smiling.

Wang Chong, however, flew into a humiliated rage, his face flushing red. “Do you think why you’re able to stand here all fine and dandy? If it weren’t for Yan Xinfeng, do you think we’d even give you a second glance?!”

Wei Tingxia’s smile faded slightly.

Wang Chong spoke the truth—he could stand on the deck chatting with Ailin now solely because Yan Xinfeng couldn’t bear to let him go. If Yan Xinfeng had hardened his heart, Wei Tingxia would have been kicked off the ship long ago.

But so what?

A man he’d reeled in with his own skills—Wei Tingxia used him with complete peace of mind.

Thus, he said calmly, “Every word you’re saying right now has nothing to do with you. If it’s not meddling, then it’s just you speaking without thinking.”

Wang Chong’s pupils contracted sharply; he clearly hadn’t expected Wei Tingxia to remain so composed in front of an outsider. His chest heaved dramatically as he instinctively squeezed a word through gritted teeth: “Bitch—”

The slur hadn’t fully escaped when a sharp whoosh of wind suddenly rang out. Caught off guard, Wang Chong was kicked to the ground, recreating the scene from seven years ago.

Only this time, it wasn’t Wei Tingxia who had lifted his leg.

Yan Xinfeng, who had just finished his call, sauntered leisurely to the trio after the kick, handed his phone to Wei Tingxia, and gestured for him to hold it.

Ailin stared blankly at the scene unfolding before her, then suddenly covered her mouth to stifle a gasp. There was no fear in her eyes—instead, they held surprise and amusement.

Yan Xinfeng straightened his cuffs, then squatted down, grabbed Wang Chong’s collar, and forced him to sit up.

“You heard what he said,” his voice carried barely suppressed menace. “This is between the two of us. You shouldn’t get involved, and you definitely shouldn’t discuss it in front of us.”

Wang Chong hadn’t expected Yan Xinfeng to be the one striking. He could mock Wei Tingxia and dismiss him, but not Yan Xinfeng.

He couldn’t afford to provoke him. “I… I heard.”

“Good.”

Yan Xinfeng released his grip and stood up straight, letting Wang Chong flop back to the ground. “Today should be a happy day for everyone. If you’re really feeling unwell, go back to your room. Understand?”

Wang Chong muttered lowly, “I understand.”

Besides the four of them, no one else was on the deck. The service staff a bit farther away tactfully averted their gazes, pretending not to exist.

Wang Chong scrambled up unsteadily, head down, and shuffled away slowly. Wei Tingxia handed the phone back.

Yan Xinfeng didn’t look at him and turned to face Ailin instead, his tone full of apology. “Sorry, I got too impulsive.”

He didn’t call it impulsive when he kicked the man, nor when he dragged him up like a dog—only after the guy had fled did he tell the onlooker it was impulsiveness.

Yan Xinfeng’s standards for judgment were quite unique.

Ailin shook her head. “It’s fine. He really did say some nasty things.”

“I still insist on apologizing, but I’m also glad you’re willing to stand here.” Yan Xinfeng said. “Please don’t mind him—he won’t bother you again.”

With that, he took back his phone and headed toward the banquet hall. Having kicked Wang Chong, he needed to give Lu Zhao a heads-up.

Wei Tingxia remained in front of Ailin and gave an awkward smile.

“He’s not usually like this,” Wei Tingxia tried to explain for him. “We generally don’t resort to hands-on stuff.”

Ailin smiled faintly, not mentioning that she’d seen Wei Tingxia about to lift his leg too, only beaten to it by Yan Xinfeng.

She interrupted his explanation. “He pays a lot of attention to you.”

Wei Tingxia blinked. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Ailin said. “I don’t know what happened before, but you two are interesting.”

She wouldn’t rashly judge who matched with whom—that wasn’t for her to decide—but Ailin genuinely found the pairing of Wei Tingxia and Yan Xinfeng intriguing.

Wei Tingxia caught the goodwill in her words, and his expression gradually softened.

……

Meanwhile, Yan Xinfeng returned to the banquet hall and called Lu Zhao up from the dance floor.

“What were you up to just now?”

Lu Zhao slicked back his sweat-dampened hair and leaned against the bar counter, asking the bartender for two drinks. He had been impeccably dressed when he first entered, but now he was wild, with a lipstick mark from Xu Wei still on his cheek.

“Answered a call from home,” Yan Xinfeng replied. “And kicked Wang Chong while I was at it.”

“Oh, kicked him.”

Lu Zhao draped himself over the bar, nodding as if he half-understood, not taking it seriously.

When the drinks arrived, he finally snapped to attention.

“Wait,” he looked at Yan Xinfeng, voice rising. “Who did you kick?”

“You heard me.”

“You,” Lu Zhao pointed at Yan Xinfeng, “kicked Wang Chong.”

Yan Xinfeng nodded faintly. “Yes.”

Lu Zhao narrowed his eyes. “I thought only Wei Tingxia would do something like that.”

“He wanted to, but I beat him to it.”

Lu Zhao sucked in air through his teeth like it hurt. “Should’ve known not to let him on the ship back then.”

Wang Chong had ability and status, but he was foul-mouthed and held grudges, a bit of a bully who feared the strong. Lu Zhao had invited him for business reasons, planning to string him along for fun, but hadn’t counted on Wei Tingxia sticking his oar in.

On second thought, though, Wang Chong must have started it—deserved the kick.

“Got it,” Lu Zhao brushed it off, downed his drink, and patted Yan Xinfeng’s arm. “No big deal. Let’s keep partying.”