Chapter34

The atmosphere of the second half of the dinner had clearly changed.

Everyone still seemed to be toasting and laughing, but beneath the calm surface, no one had forgotten the expression Shen Zesheng had when he left.

In the entertainment industry, where the big players are accustomed to calling the shots, it was surprising to see someone like Shen Zesheng, who usually acted with such authority, left standing awkwardly, his smile forced, and running away in a panic.

But how could Shen Zesheng not panic?

He never expected that Cen Zhen’s connection wasn’t with Xie Qingzong, but with the Meng family, a family he himself had to look up to and flatter. His arrogance had been his downfall. He’d been so used to bullying everyone in the entertainment industry that he thought anyone could be easily manipulated. He didn’t even think much of Xie Qingzong, let alone a rookie actress—what was there to be afraid of?

But he had made a huge mistake.

Shen Zesheng knew he couldn’t afford to offend the Meng family, especially Meng Fanchuan. This man didn’t follow the rules, and he didn’t care about maintaining any decorum. If he wasn’t happy, he would do anything.

Returning to his private room, everything seemed to be as if nothing had happened, but no one noticed the slight tremble in his hands under the table. After a long time, he poured himself a glass of wine, trying to suppress the unease, hoping that Meng Fanchuan wouldn’t take things too seriously. Otherwise...

Even his small fortune might not be enough to get him out of this mess.

The dinner at Xie Qingzong’s side continued, and everyone was making an effort to create a relaxed atmosphere, trying to erase the unpleasant moment that had happened earlier.

But Cen Zhen couldn’t erase it.

After Meng Fanchuan’s words, her heart had been racing uncontrollably, and it hadn’t stopped since. She noticed that everyone at the table was looking at her, and it seemed like from that moment on, the way people looked at her had subtly changed.

Cen Zhen, the actress, had just transformed into the girlfriend of Master Meng, someone they now dared not offend easily.

Meng Fanchuan had quickly gotten rid of Shen Zesheng, but at the same time, he had placed a shackle on himself that he couldn’t remove.

The strong white liquor began to take its toll on her body. Cen Zhen, who could barely drink beer, found the white liquor overwhelming, and as the second half of the dinner went on, her stomach churned violently. She felt dizzy and nauseous, and quickly found an excuse to go to the bathroom.

Mo Xiang, worried, followed her out.

Cen Zhen had no tolerance for alcohol. In the bathroom outside the private room, she was suffering just like she had half a year ago. But this time, she couldn’t vomit anything out, and it felt like all her strength had been drained. She weakly leaned on the sink, unable to find any way to feel better.

Mo Xiang had many questions for Cen Zhen, but with her current state, there was no way to ask anything. She was about to go to the front desk to get some water for Cen Zhen when she turned around and saw Meng Fanchuan walking out.

Mo Xiang had heard a lot about this young master and was meeting him for the first time today. To her surprise, she had just witnessed a major event. She was so shocked that her eyes nearly popped out, but as she slowly reflected on it, everything seemed to have an obvious trail.

The big sweeping move at today’s event—if she wasn’t mistaken—was likely his doing.

Her young protégé didn’t have any background? When the name Meng Fanchuan was mentioned, Cen Zhen could walk through the entertainment industry with ease, and even Shen Zesheng would have to help her.

But how long could such background last? And how much sincerity did this young master have? Mo Xiang wasn’t sure.

After all, she knew full well what position female stars held in the eyes of these powerful people.

If it was just for fun, then it would be a pity for Cen Zhen.

She definitely had the potential and talent to stand at the top of the screen, and that was why Mo Xiang had been willing to take on a newcomer. But now, she was suddenly mixed up with the wealthy, and not just any wealthy family. Mo Xiang felt a headache just thinking about the potential controversies that might arise in the future.

But no matter what, in this moment, Mo Xiang knew Cen Zhen no longer needed her.

She nodded to Meng Fanchuan and returned to the private room.

Time seemed to warp back to that night, with familiar scenes and familiar people.

Cen Zhen was still leaning on the sink, wanting to vomit but unable to bring anything up. All she could manage was some sour water soaked with alcohol, which made her cough repeatedly.

Just when her vision was blurring, a tissue was suddenly handed to her. In her dazed state, she might have recalled the night from before, the person she had met once. She struggled to lift her head, only to find that it was Meng Fanchuan standing in front of her.

The memories that had been floating in her mind suddenly extinguished, as though she had been yanked from a story full of filters back into the cold reality. Cen Zhen took the tissue he handed her, but she just squeezed it in her hand.

She remembered his words in the private room earlier and, swaying slightly, stood up straight to ask, “When did I become Master Meng’s girlfriend?”

Meng Fanchuan knew he had no right to say such things, and he was aware that suddenly saying something like this in front of the crew might cause trouble for Cen Zhen.

But after what had just happened, how could he hold back?

Not taking any physical action was his greatest display of restraint.

Moreover—

In Meng Fanchuan’s mind, Cen Zhen had always been in this role.

But their relationship, which he thought was at its peak, had abruptly ended in a ridiculous way, something he still couldn’t accept.

After a few seconds of silence, Meng Fanchuan avoided the question, "Would he have let it go if I didn’t say it like this?""Indeed, it's because of Master Meng's influence." Cen Zhen smiled, but there was a hint of bitterness in her smile. "But how am I supposed to face myself from now on?"

If word gets out, people in the North City circle might wonder how someone with a fiancée suddenly has a girlfriend.

Compared to that, it was obvious that Cen Zhen, the so-called girlfriend, seemed more like a fleeting indulgence of a rich playboy.

Meng Fanchuan thought Cen Zhen was concerned about entering the crew as his girlfriend, that she was worried about gossip, but he didn't realize Cen Zhen was thinking on a deeper level. He comforted her, "Aunt Hui will handle it. No one else will know about what happened tonight except for the people here."

As she listened, Cen Zhen smiled again. What a strange night—it was as if she had suddenly become his girlfriend.

But only a girlfriend visible within this private room.

Cen Zhen, however, had no energy to argue with him now. Her head was growing heavier, and the nausea that had surged earlier seemed to subside. She wiped her hands with the tissue Meng Fanchuan had handed her and tossed it into the trash. Unsteadily, she made her way back to the private room, looking for somewhere to sit and lean against.

As she passed by, Meng Fanchuan grabbed her arm. "Are you going back when you're drunk?"

Cen Zhen blinked in confusion. "…Where else would I go?"

Her voice had changed—slightly aggrieved, sticky, almost pulling at Meng Fanchuan’s heart.

Meng Fanchuan had never intended to join such a dinner, and now that Cen Zhen was drunk, he had even less desire to continue acting. He directly pulled her hand and led her in the opposite direction.

"Let's go."

"…"

Cen Zhen’s steps were unsteady, and her vision had started to blur. Rationally, she knew she shouldn’t follow Meng Fanchuan, but her body didn’t listen. She was light as a feather, being led by him, with no resistance.

They went downstairs and got in the car. Cen Zhen relied entirely on Meng Fanchuan’s strength. The alcohol seemed to hit her all at once, and as soon as she sat in the car, her eyes closed, and she fell into a deep, dazed sleep.

Meng Fanchuan, helpless, reached over her body to fasten her seatbelt. Once it was done, he paused, quietly watching her.

She had fallen asleep, her eyes and cheeks flushed red. Her brows occasionally furrowed, as if filled with a sense of grievance and unease.

Meng Fanchuan turned away, suddenly thinking of something she had said about lovers. He wondered to himself why Cen Zhen had put herself in such a humble position—was it because his feelings weren’t obvious enough, or was she resisting her own identity?

What was she really thinking?

On the drive to the hotel, Cen Zhen remained asleep, peaceful in a way that was rare between them. Meng Fanchuan didn’t know whether to laugh or be angry at the sight.

Worried that she might not sleep well and perhaps hoping to spend more time with her, Meng Fanchuan drove slowly, even taking a quieter route. When they were still two kilometers from the hotel, Cen Zhen suddenly woke up.

She woke with a cough, clutching her chest as if she were about to vomit. Meng Fanchuan quickly pulled over. As he opened the car door on her side, she stumbled out of the car.

She bent over on the side of the road, desperately trying to throw up, but to no avail. The churning in her stomach was unbearable, but nothing came out. Her discomfort made her eyes tear up.

Seeing her suffering, Meng Fanchuan squatted beside her and asked, "Do you want to go to the hospital?"

Cen Zhen shook her head silently. "What’s the point of going to the hospital?"

Before Meng Fanchuan could respond, she muttered, "Can the hospital cure how not to think about someone?"

...?

Meng Fanchuan froze, unable to process her strange words. Before he could gather himself, Cen Zhen, swaying, stood up and started to walk back. She looked like she might fall at any moment. Meng Fanchuan helplessly rushed to support her and continued their earlier conversation. "Who is it that you don’t want to think about?"

Cen Zhen stopped, turned slightly, and leaned against the car, her head lowered as if she was seriously considering his question.

But the answer didn’t require much thought—it was simply something she didn’t want to admit to herself.

"I don’t want to think about you," Cen Zhen said easily, as if floating in the air, without a care in the world. She shook her head, annoyed. "I think about you every day. It’s so annoying."

Meng Fanchuan: "…"

Cen Zhen suddenly laughed, her drunken expression mixed with a hint of playful mystery. Her words tugged at Meng Fanchuan's heart, and he found himself wanting to hear it again. "You… miss me?"

"What’s wrong?" Cen Zhen lifted her gaze and looked at him with an innocent, confused expression. "Am I not allowed to miss you?"

Meng Fanchuan suddenly found himself at a loss for words.

"Don’t be so domineering," Cen Zhen muttered to herself. "I’m not being that possessive with you, so don’t do the same to me…"

Meng Fanchuan finally confirmed that he hadn’t misheard. Unable to resist, he instinctively reached for her hand and held it tightly, as if finding something precious he thought he’d lost. It was a strange, yet joyful surprise. "Say it again. Who do you miss?"

Suddenly, a pair of hands grabbed Cen Zhen’s, and her dizzy mind took a moment to clear, but she still recognized the familiar presence. She looked up.

She saw the man before her.

The world felt empty, the sounds of the surroundings disappeared, and it was as if only the warmth of his fingertips remained in her world.

Cen Zhen thought, perhaps she was dreaming—how else could she be holding his hand again, leaning together as they once had?

When awake, rationality dominated, but now that she was dreaming, why bother with that logic?Cen Zhen remembered that night on the Victoria Harbour bus, the wind that night, the way they were, and that kiss she could never forget.

She pulled her hand free from Meng Fanchuan’s grasp and suddenly placed it on his shoulder, then crossed it behind his neck, hooking it there.

Without giving anyone a chance to react or hesitate, Cen Zhen stood on tiptoe and kissed him.

In that moment, Meng Fanchuan froze.

Her lips were hot, but incredibly soft, and she didn't really know how to kiss. She mimicked the way Meng Fanchuan had kissed her before, awkwardly prying open his mouth, tentatively exploring, slowly licking.

After lightly brushing her tongue against his, Cen Zhen seemed a bit dissatisfied and slowly pulled away.

"Why aren't you opening your mouth?" she ordered in a muffled, sluggish voice. "Open your mouth, I can't kiss you."

All the restraint in Meng Fanchuan's mind shattered like bubbles. His throat moved, and in an instant, without hesitation, he pulled her back, lowered his head, and pressed his lips heavily against hers.

Cen Zhen’s soft moan was quickly swallowed up by him. She staggered back a step and ended up leaning against the passenger side of the sports car. Her head was dizzy, but the kiss was intense, burning with the familiar scent and taste she loved.

Her soul seemed to float, and the dream felt so real it was intoxicating. She realized she could be this lost in the moment, temporarily forget the differences in reality, and indulge in kissing him like this.

But they were still outside, on a street with cars passing by.

Meng Fanchuan used all his patience to break the kiss, lowering his eyes to look at the girl in his arms. She was breathing softly, her gaze somewhat dazed, with a hint of fragile grievance. She looked at him like that, with her lips still wet from their passionate kiss.

Meng Fanchuan felt like he was going crazy.

He opened the door, helped Cen Zhen sit back in her seat, then returned to the driver’s side, driving at top speed back to the Wanyue Hotel.

"Which room are you staying in?" Meng Fanchuan's voice was hoarse, restrained.

Cen Zhen, still dizzy, couldn’t remember. She fumbled through her purse, looking for something. Meng Fanchuan spotted the room key inside, pulled it out, and saw that it was on the floor above his.

He took a deep breath, patiently led her to the room, swiped the key, and entered.

Meng Fanchuan couldn't even wait to turn on the lights.

He pushed her against the wall, cupped her face, and kissed her deeply again, pouring all the emotions he had been suppressing for the past month into the kiss. Cen Zhen, already dizzy, nearly suffocated from the intensity, but her body responded honestly and eagerly, no longer hesitating to reach out. In this drunken dream, she could be reckless, embracing him with abandon.

The kiss deepened, filling the dark room with desire. The troublesome coat fell off, and as they kissed, Cen Zhen’s shoulders trembled. Suddenly, a wave of nausea hit her chest, as though something wanted to come out. She pushed Meng Fanchuan away, stumbling toward the bathroom.

Perhaps it was the lack of oxygen from the prolonged kiss, or maybe the heat of the emotions, but Cen Zhen finally threw up everything that had been swirling in her stomach.

She looked a bit disheveled, kneeling by the toilet and vomiting several times. Meng Fanchuan followed and stood behind her, suppressing the wild desire that had been raging inside him. He went back to turn on the lights, grabbed a bottle of water, and when he returned, Cen Zhen was sitting on the floor, staring at him in confusion, as if she hadn’t realized she was already back in the hotel room.

Meng Fanchuan couldn’t stand the look in her eyes.

He went over, twisted open the bottle of water, and handed it to her. Cen Zhen obediently rinsed her mouth but choked after just two sips, causing the bottle to slip from her hands.

Meng Fanchuan patted her back and gently helped her sit on the sink counter.

Cen Zhen was wearing a long dress, and the spilled water had drenched it, sticking to her skin now, wet and cold.

Meng Fanchuan looked around helplessly and grabbed a towel from the bathroom, wrapping it tightly around her. "You shouldn’t have drunk if you couldn’t handle it."

He paused for a moment, as if mentally preparing himself, before reaching through the towel and slowly unbuttoning her wet dress.

It was difficult to undress her in the dark, and his fingertips occasionally brushed against her skin, sending an unbearable surge of heat through him.

He wasn't a gentleman, but she was drunk, and taking advantage of her like this felt even worse.

Cen Zhen sat obediently on the counter, her head lowered, allowing him to handle her. Suddenly, she spoke, "I did it on purpose."

Meng Fanchuan paused in his actions. "On purpose?"

Cen Zhen’s senses were still a bit dull, but the only thing that remained clear in her mind was the kiss she had just shared with him.

He kissed so well, Cen Zhen thought.

"Have you kissed a lot of women?" She suddenly changed the subject.

Meng Fanchuan finally managed to remove her wet dress. The soft fabric held her warmth, but now, her body was wrapped only in a thin layer of undergarments, covered by the towel.

He pushed aside some untimely thoughts, and calmly answered, "No."

But Cen Zhen seemed a bit disappointed. "You must have kissed that model."

Meng Fanchuan frowned. "What?"

"She said I’m just your passing guest, I can only be your lover." Drunkenness made her fragile, and she explained with some grievance, "Meng Fanchuan, I won’t be your lover. Don’t even think about it."

Meng Fanchuan froze, finally beginning to understand what had happened. He couldn’t believe it—during this entire month, the misunderstanding that Cen Zhen had fallen into was even bigger than he realized.

"Zhen Zhen." Meng Fanchuan called her this for the first time, but she interrupted him.

Cen Zhen suddenly lifted her head, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears. "Do you really like me?"

"Of course."But Cen Zhen shook her head, sobbing. "I don't believe you."

"……"

She asked again, "How many women have sat in the passenger seat?"

"Except for Nuo Nuo, you're the only one."

There was a brief silence. A tear rolled down her cheek, and she still stubbornly said, "I don't believe you."

"……"

When Qin Shiyao had found him earlier, she cried sadly, asking him why he wouldn't marry her, asking for a reason, being extremely difficult.

At that time, Meng Fanchuan found the woman's tears irritating, making him anxious.

But it turned out that wasn't the case.

Seeing Cen Zhen's eyes red, silent tears falling, he only felt like he deserved to die.

How had he made her cry?

What had he done?

Meng Fanchuan reached out to wipe her tears, but they wouldn't go away. The tears kept falling, and the more she cried, the more helpless he felt. His heart was pulled in all directions, unsure of what to do. In the end, he could only pull her into his arms and hold her tightly. "I'm sorry, it's my fault."

When Cen Zhen mentioned the model, he knew that she must have met that woman without him knowing, and the other woman must have said some unkind words to her.

For Meng Fanchuan, his relationship with that woman had been nothing more than a shallow performance. He didn't even remember her name anymore, long forgetting the emotional charade he'd put on for Qin Shiyao. He never imagined that such a minor character would stir up such a storm in his world.

Meng Fanchuan softly comforted Cen Zhen, and after a while, he realized she had fallen silent. Looking down, he saw that the girl seemed to have fallen asleep.

She gently leaned against his chest, a rare display of reliance. Meng Fanchuan glanced back at the distance between the bathroom and the bed, wondering how he would get her back to the bed. But Cen Zhen seemed to sense his brief departure and suddenly reached out to hug his waist. "Don't leave."

The towel wrapped around her body slipped to the ground as she moved.

Cen Zhen, wearing only her underwear, was caught off guard as her body was exposed before him. Her long hair scattered messily around her, covering her curves. Meng Fanchuan immediately averted his gaze.

He paused, mentally cursing for the second time tonight.

Meng Fanchuan turned his head, intending to carry Cen Zhen back to the bed, but she held onto him tightly, making it impossible for him to move. He had no choice but to change his position, lifting her by the waist and carrying her.

Cen Zhen naturally rested her head on his shoulder, her soft chest pressing against him without restraint, clutching him like a pendant.

Meng Fanchuan took a deep breath, silently confirming once again that this woman was truly remarkable—she even had the ability to torment him while drunk.

He tried to keep his gaze steady and carefully carried Cen Zhen back to the bed, where she still clung to his waist. He had to spend some time calming her down, but just as he was about to settle her down, his arm brushed against something metal and cool.

Worried it might poke Cen Zhen, Meng Fanchuan intended to move it, but when his eyes fell on it, he froze.

The room was dimly lit by a single bedside lamp. In the faint light, he clearly saw the watch Cen Zhen had said she had thrown away, quietly resting on her pillow.