Chapter 47: Two-Faced Phoenix Man 6

“Haha, you guys have no idea how awful Brother Lu’s face looked back then.”

In the private box, where lights danced in a kaleidoscope of colors, a massive screen with striking design played a soothing music video. Steel ornaments hung in interlocking rings from the ceiling, dotted with small spotlights that protruded in layers, resembling clusters of surveillance cameras.

In one fleeting moment, their beams all shifted to a blood-red glow, illuminating the expensive bottles rising and falling on the deep black glass tabletop, refracting a nearly blinding opulence that screamed of money.

Chen Ming kept a cheerful grin on his face, looking as carefree and heartless as ever.

The people around him were all second-generation heirs from the Huajing Circle. Though their family backgrounds couldn’t compare to the Lu Family or the Chen Family, they were still players worth mentioning.

Someone chimed in with a laugh. “If you ask me, Brother Lu doesn’t even need to beckon. Women throw themselves at him in droves. That Jiang Rang guy was probably just putting on an act.”

Laughter erupted around the room. A drunk slurred his words without a filter. “What else could it be but an act? Playing hard to get like that—fishing without knowing the tricks. Does he really think Brother Lu would take a shine to him?”

“I saw it myself. When Brother Lu tossed that piece of junk he gave him—” The drunken man sneered, his eyes gleaming oddly as he grinned. “The guy’s face changed instantly, but then he put on this self-righteous pitiful act.”

“Bet he’s pulled that routine on plenty of other men before.”

The man chuckled derisively and swirled his glass, about to toss it back when a sharp, icy gust whistled past his cheek.

Followed by the shattering crash of a glass against the wall.

The entire private box fell silent in stunned shock.

There sat the Crown Prince, usually so languid and aloof, the very picture of untouchable arrogance. He slowly worked his throat, swallowing a mouthful of liquor. Beneath his uptilted peach-blossom eyes, that single tear-shaped mole sharpened like a dagger’s edge in an instant.

His curly short hair cast a dark shadow across his forehead. Under the flickering, vibrant lights, the line of Lu Xiang’s jaw shifted subtly. He looked up, flashing a calm smile at the man whose face had frozen, as if his throat were being squeezed.

His sharp tiger’s tooth peeked out as Lu Xiang tugged at his lips. “Hand slipped.”

His tone betrayed no emotion. The others exchanged glances, but Chen Ming—lost in his own thoughts for a long moment—finally snapped back and played it off. “Hey, come on, what’s this? Brother Lu’s always had a temper like that, hasn’t he?”

The mood gradually thawed. Lu Xiang had always been unpredictable, his moods a mystery to everyone. The Crown Prince was in a league of his own, backed by that colossal empire of wealth and power. If he wanted to throw a fit, who was going to stop him? Why bother minding anyone else?

Still, the little incident had chilled the vibe a bit. And right on cue, the door to the private box swung open.

The newcomer exuded a gentle, jade-like warmth, his classically handsome features elegant and refined. What drew the eye most was the long earring dangling from his ear, swaying in the light and shadows with his movements.

Ji Mingyu’s gaze swept over the crowd before locking onto Chen Ming’s pleading look. He narrowed his blue eyes with a smile. “What happened here? I just got here, and Eldest Young Master Lu’s already losing his temper?”

Lu Xiang ignored him completely, sipping his drink at random intervals, his expression unreadable.

Ji Mingyu casually scanned the room, meeting the eyes of the man who had nearly taken a glass to the head. A flicker passed through his gaze as he said slowly, “Weren’t we continuing the afterparty? Speaking of which, didn’t we leave off in the middle of that big truth-or-dare game last time?”

His offhand remark instantly reignited the energy. Someone jumped in. “Right, right! Whose turn was it again?”

“Brother Lu’s, I think?”

All eyes turned to him again. Sensing Lu Xiang’s inscrutable mood, they were about to laugh it off when the man, half-reclined in the shadows, flexed his long fingers slightly. In a cool, indifferent tone, he said, “Nothing fun lately. What do you have in mind?”

Lu Xiang wasn’t your typical straitlaced, steady heir to the family business. Far from it—his rebellious streak ran deep, and he despised the pretentious rules of high society. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be hanging out with this pack of spoiled playboys.

Old Master Lu had been driven up the wall by him more than once and had tried to discipline him, but the Lu Family had only this one precious heir. As long as Lu Xiang didn’t cross any real lines, they indulged him.

With Lu Xiang taking the lead like that, the atmosphere finally relaxed completely.

“You know, we’ve done all the usual tricks a million times…” Someone trailed off, as if struck by a sudden idea, grinning with malicious nonchalance. “This time, let’s use that Jiang Rang. I can’t stand those poor bastards acting all high and mighty. Daring to play mind games with Brother Lu? He just wants to climb the ladder.”

“How about this, Brother Lu? He does look pretty decent. Why don’t you give chasing him a shot, Brother Lu? Spoil him to the heavens, then smash him back down hard. The expression on his face at that moment ought to be priceless, don’t you think?”

Bets like this had been floated before, but none had ever whipped up the crowd’s excitement quite like this one.

It was practically a no-brainer outcome. With Lu Xiang’s wealth and looks, there was no way a desperate schemer like Jiang Rang would let an opportunity like that slip by.

A bunch of people egged him on from the sidelines. Ji Mingyu slowly rubbed the calluses on his knuckles, formed from years of gripping a paintbrush. He lowered his azure-blue eyes, a faint smile hovering at the corners of his lips. In that instant, he seemed gentle and profound, like the depths of a still pool.

He caught sight of Lu Xiang’s friend—the Chen Family Little Young Master—suddenly falling silent, his brows knitting together. Ji Mingyu’s smile warmed even further, like a soothing spring breeze.

And that silence, after Lu Xiang accepted the bet with a mocking half-smile, morphed into something dangerously close to overstepping—a flicker of dissatisfaction and words held back on the tip of his tongue.

Chen Ming’s lips twitched. In one fleeting moment, his usual bright, carefree expression went utterly blank.

~~~

Jiang Rang’s mood lately could only be described as fantastic.

He wasn’t sure if it was that one move he’d made the other day that had paid off, but Lu Xiang’s attitude toward him had shifted dramatically in recent days.

The man still didn’t talk much, but he’d started taking the initiative to sit in the empty seat next to Jiang Rang. And—whether it was just his imagination or not—Jiang Rang felt like he kept running into him everywhere, like in some of his elective classes. He clearly remembered the young man hadn’t been there before.

Lu Xiang’s demeanor had thawed quickly too. At first, their encounters were met with just a cool nod. Before long, he was even making invitations himself.

Jiang Rang had never imagined that one day, a lofty heir straight out of a TV drama—someone so far above the rest—would deign to invite him out for lunch.

The young man barely suppressed the heat rising in his chest. He reminded himself to stay patient, to hold his ground.

If he jumped at the first invitation, it’d make him look cheap. Worse, it’d expose the feigned melancholy he’d been playing up as utterly fake.

After all, Lu Xiang might seem interested, but a young master like him had thoughts as inscrutable as they came. Who knew when he might suddenly lose interest?

Jiang Rang had always known that, given his own background, even crossing paths with a top-tier heir like Lu Xiang was like his ancestors burning incense for good luck.

Sure, fleecing some cash wouldn’t take much effort, but it made him seem awfully small-minded.

That was why he’d chosen to major in financial management in college—there were ambitions simmering beneath the surface. He studied harder than anyone, devouring financial news without fail.

He didn’t just want money. He wanted an endless, self-sustaining flow of it.

And with money came power. With power, shaking off his shackles would be child’s play.

Jiang Rang’s thin, rosy eyelids fluttered lightly. His lower lip was a touch fuller, which made the upper one seem all the thinner and more delicate. When he caught it lightly between his white teeth, twisting it just so, the effect was utterly captivating.

The young man took a slow step back, revealing his fine, pale profile.

He looked utterly conflicted, as if he had no idea how to turn down the invitation before him.

It took a long moment before the fresh-faced youth with his red lips, white teeth, and refined features murmured with downcast eyes, “Sorry, Classmate Lu. I have something going on today, so maybe…”

“What’s the matter?” Lu Xiang asked offhandedly. Strands of dark, slightly curled hair at his temple fell artistically across his pale brow bone, sharpening his arrogant, cutting edge even further.

Jiang Rang nearly faltered for a second. The man’s gaze was too piercing, too aggressive. Staring into it made him feel exposed, deeply uncomfortable.

The young man’s face drained of color. He took half a step back, as if startled, his lips quivering faintly. His voice came out soft as a falling feather.

“S-Sorry, Classmate Lu. I really do have something. I’m going now.”

With that, he ducked his head, clutching his thick stack of books to his chest. The two were on the verge of brushing past each other.

Jiang Rang counted silently in his mind.

One.

Their shoulders grazed. The closeness was excessive, and a heady, almost seductive fragrance made the man swallow reflexively.

Two.

Damp corners of his eyes, weary brows, flustered anxiety. Even a fleeting glimpse revealed a beauty so intoxicating it could hook anyone.

Three.

A pair of scorching hands clamped down on the young man’s slender, pale wrist.

Jiang Rang kept his head bowed with effort, suppressing the thrill and smirk tugging at his lips. His milky-pale face took on a faint bluish tint and pallor from the strain, his long, curled lashes trembling. He looked utterly pitiable.

“Lu-Classmate Lu… is there something else?”

“Jiang Rang.”

The man’s nearly uncontrollable panting made his voice grow even lower and stranger.

Jiang Rang sensed something off and couldn’t help lifting his gaze. In that instant, a chill washed over him like he’d been doused with ice water.

There was the wildly handsome Lu Family Heir, his deep black eyes seeming to harbor some thick, repulsive swamp muck. He stared fixedly at the young man, his beautiful lips trembling nonstop, the black teardrop mole beneath his eye like dark water seeping from his skin.

It was as if some psychotic episode had taken hold. The man licked his lips, his throat bobbing slightly, and rasped, “Jiang Rang, have dinner with me. I’ll give you a hundred thousand.”

Jiang Rang’s brows knitted tightly. Temptation stirred within him, but he held back, feigning the pure, humiliated innocence of a little white flower. “Classmate Lu, what do you mean by that? I’m not the type who…”

“Five hundred thousand.”

Lu Xiang stared at him unblinkingly, his reddened eyes refusing to so much as blink.

Jiang Rang immediately adopted a troubled expression, as if he were helpless against the man, and said softly, “Classmate Lu, actually I don’t have much on my plate today. It’s my honor to join you for dinner.”