Chapter9

Finding Meng Fanchuan meant also finding Qiao Tingting.

But Cen Zhen couldn’t say she was worried about her friend—if Meng Fanchuan and Shen Zesheng really were on the same side, she might inadvertently alert them.

So Cen Zhen had to pretend she just wanted to meet him.

There was a moment of silence on the phone, then he laughed, "Miss Cen, you seemed to have said you wouldn’t contact me again."

He still had that casual, lazy tone, but Cen Zhen wasn’t foolish enough to think he was easy to get along with. On the contrary, her intuition always told her this man carried an indescribable danger.

Compared to Shen Zesheng, he seemed better at toying with people’s hearts.

"I’ve changed my mind," Cen Zhen calmly faced the challenge. "I want to get that jewelry box back."

Cen Zhen didn’t know if Meng Fanchuan would believe her clumsy excuse, but the jewelry box was the only connection left between them. She couldn’t recklessly say she wanted to see him without a reason, or else others might misinterpret her intentions.

The taxi stopped by the roadside; the night wrapped over Cen Zhen’s face. She even anticipated Meng Fanchuan’s possible reply, saying, "If you don’t have it on you, I can come with you to get it after we meet."

How clever she was, learning his tactics and making it impossible for him to refuse.

Sure enough, he paused slightly, then let out a light laugh, "Alright."

A minute later, Cen Zhen received a message from him with an address: No.1 Jia’an Road.

Cen Zhen knew the area—it was a famous decadent street in Hucheng, full of bars and clubs favored by young people. With neon lights and a nightlife that never sleeps, the real evening life only began around 9 pm.

Indeed, the driver followed the address and stopped before a low-key club. Unlike what she imagined, this place was already far from the lively bar street, a two-story staggered building where geometric light and shadow flowed in the space, looking quite exquisite.

Unfamiliar with the area, Cen Zhen got out and was trying to find an entrance when the heavy-textured main door opened. A young man in a waiter uniform came out and asked, "Miss Cen?"

Cen Zhen blinked, nodded, "Yes, that’s me."

The man politely led her, "Master Meng asked me to pick you up, please come this way."

Walking deeper into the club, Cen Zhen realized its secret luxury: crystal chandeliers shining with the pattern of Bordeaux floors, black-golden metal decorations, dark red velvet sofas... It felt like she had fallen into a mirage in the Moroccan desert, rich and dazzling.

Most rare was the faint, lingering fragrance in the air that inexplicably lifted one’s spirits.

"May I ask where Master Meng is?" Cen Zhen followed the man around the club’s front hall, now heading down a sunken stairway.

The young man respectfully led her to a door, nodding, "He’s inside. You may enter."

A chill came up from the basement level. Cen Zhen tightened her coat and knocked. But behind the door was still a long corridor. Only when she reached the end, seeing rows of oak racks filled with red wine, did she realize this was a wine cellar.

And—

She finally saw Meng Fanchuan, holding a wine glass standing by the racks, head slightly bowed, seemingly admiring a favored vintage.

At this moment Cen Zhen had no idea this private cellar—housing more than three thousand bottles of world-class fine wines, some dating back to the early nineteenth century—belonged to Meng Fanchuan.

She stood quietly behind him: "Master Meng."

Meng Fanchuan turned, glanced at his watch, "Miss Cen, you came faster than I expected."

Cen Zhen quietly examined the cellar’s structure, guessing Meng Fanchuan must have come down to select wine, while others were probably still playing upstairs. She patiently said, "If you want to see Master Meng, of course you need to be sincere."

Meng Fanchuan casually walked to the black mirrored oval table and poured her a glass, "This is Échezeaux from Bichot Winery, a pretty good vintage. Try it."

Cen Zhen wasn’t good at drinking. She wanted to say no, but it seemed rude to avoid him, so she took the glass and sat down, following his lead to ask, "Master Meng, are you drinking alone? No friends to keep you company?"

Meng Fanchuan: "Miss Cen, aren’t you here?"

Cen Zhen took it as a joke, "So before I came, Master Meng was drinking alone?"

"Otherwise?" Meng Fanchuan stretched out his legs casually, "Do you need a lot of people to drink?"

Cen Zhen was stunned, processing his words for three seconds—Wait.

“Do you mean, you’re the only one here?”

“Hm? Who else should be here?”

“...”

How could that be? Where’s Qiao Tingting? Where’s Shen Zesheng? Didn’t they say tonight’s gathering was arranged for Meng Fanchuan?

Cen Zhen didn’t know which part went wrong, but she had no heart to pretend anymore. “Where is Tingting?”

Meng Fanchuan: “Which Tingting?”

“...” Cen Zhen, in a moment of panic, stood up. “Then where’s Shen Zesheng? Wasn’t there someone organizing a gathering to invite you tonight?”

Meng Fanchuan looked up, watching the girl with slightly flushed cheeks in front of him with interest, as if he had finally solved the puzzle. “Looks like Miss Cen didn’t come to see me.”

Cen Zhen was speechless, wanting to explain she didn’t mean to lie to him, but as the words reached her lips, she suddenly realized—

She came here using the jewelry box as an excuse, but he saw through it from the start. The rest was just to see how foolishly she would act out the play.

“Sorry.” Cen Zhen’s eyes dropped, deflated. “My friend can’t drink, and I’m worried... Mr. Shen is too enthusiastic, she might get drunk and no one will take care of her.”

She chose her words carefully, afraid of angering the man in front of her, who seemed to be a friend of Shen Zesheng’s. “Do you know where they are? Could you tell me? I’d be grateful.”

After she finished speaking, Meng Fanchuan actually laughed. Wearing a black shirt with the collar casually open, he leaned on the sofa, lazily raising the corner of his eyes to ask Cen Zhen, “You’re really worried about this friend?”

“Yes.” Cen Zhen could only tell the truth. “She was invited to sing to liven up the atmosphere, but suddenly her phone is unreachable. I’m very worried.”

If it was anyone else, she might have let it go, but with Shen Zesheng involved, she found it hard not to overthink.

Meng Fanchuan listened and slowly finished his wine, then took out his phone and dialed. “Tell Chen Xiang’an to bring the car to the door and wait for me.”

After speaking, he stood up, grabbed his coat, and started walking out. Cen Zhen was still puzzled about his meaning until he took a few steps out, turned back, and glanced at her sharply. “Not going to find your friend?”

Cen Zhen: “...”

She immediately took two steps and caught up to him. “You tell me the address, I can go myself.”

Meng Fanchuan lightly smirked, “Afraid I’ll sell you out?”

Cen Zhen pursed her lips but didn’t answer.

She wasn’t afraid—this secret basement cellar was more than enough for Meng Fanchuan to do whatever he wanted. Since he was leading her out, it meant he had no other intention.

At least, not tonight.

The two quickly left the wine cellar. At the club entrance, a bodyguard-like man in a suit opened the back door of a waiting car and respectfully said, “Second Young Master.”

Meng Fanchuan got in the car, Cen Zhen hesitated only a few seconds before following him inside.

Last time was daytime; this time was nighttime. If she told others, no one would believe that an ordinary recent graduate like her had gotten into the car of this distant and unreachable Second Young Master of the Meng family twice in such a short time.

The car was silent. Cen Zhen sat properly on one side, the waiting process painfully slow.

Perhaps because the two had gotten closer, the fragrance in the wine cellar was even clearer now—cedar, laurel, eucalyptus… Beneath the faint rich scent of wine, there was also a faint trace of a young man’s scent.

“Miss Cen, how do you plan to thank me?” Meng Fanchuan suddenly asked.

Just now in the cellar, Cen Zhen did say she would be grateful if she knew where Qiao Tingting was.

Since she said it herself, naturally she had to fulfill it.

But what kind of reward would such a rich young master want? Cen Zhen had no clue.

She could only hand over the initiative to him. “...What do you want me to do to thank you?”

The air grew subtly quiet for a few seconds.

Chen Xiang’an, driving in the front, was experienced from years of working behind Wang Yuan. He noticed Meng Fanchuan’s delayed reply and very skillfully raised the divider between the front and back seats.

The moment the two rows were discreetly separated, Chen Xiang’an was already imagining a thousand words of stories he shouldn’t hear or see.

But in the backseat, Cen Zhen and Meng Fanchuan: “...”

Meng Fanchuan laughed at Chen Xiang’an’s move. Wang Yuan had said this veteran driver was skilled and honest.Is he really that honest?

He turned his head. Under the flickering light, Cen Zhen’s ears were slightly red as she looked away, pretending to tidy her hair behind her ear, clearly feeling uneasy about the sudden private space separating them.

Fortunately, at that moment her phone rang in her bag, diluting the awkward atmosphere.

The screen flashed with Qiao Tingting’s name. Cen Zhen frowned and hurriedly answered, “Tingting?”

“Babe, my phone died halfway through calling you just now.” Qiao Tingting was saying goodbye to someone else, then paused and asked Cen Zhen, “Where are you?”

Cen Zhen was more concerned about her safety. “Are you okay? Did Shen Zesheng force you to drink?”

Qiao Tingting laughed carelessly. “Force drink? Meng Fanchuan didn’t even come. A few of us just had fun ourselves for a bit, felt boring, and everyone’s gone home now.”

Cen Zhen: “...”

“Where are you? Let’s just have a late-night snack. I’m dying for that white pepper crab at Sheng Ji’s!”

The car was so quiet the sound seemed to amplify wildly. Cen Zhen instinctively turned and pressed the phone closer. “Lower your voice.”

“Why?”

Cen Zhen checked her watch — not yet ten o’clock. The gathering really did end early.

The main person didn’t show, so those trying to gain favor naturally lost interest in flattering each other.

Knowing Qiao Tingting was safe was a relief, but Cen Zhen felt caught awkwardly.

She lowered her voice and told Qiao Tingting, “Got it. See you later there.”

There was no reason to continue this trip. After hanging up, Cen Zhen apologized to Meng Fanchuan for making him come for nothing. “Second Young Master, my friend just called. Their gathering has already dispersed.”

Meng Fanchuan said nothing.

Cen Zhen pursed her lips and continued, “She’s safe. We... don’t need to go there anymore.”

Whether the gathering ended or if people were safe was meaningless to Meng Fanchuan. He calmly turned to look at Cen Zhen, reminding her, “Miss Cen, you haven’t answered my question yet.”

Question?

Cen Zhen paused, realizing they were talking about how she planned to thank him.

Though Qiao Tingting’s gathering broke up, Meng Fanchuan personally accompanied her this trip. Their connection was slight, but she didn’t want to owe this favor from such a noble gentleman.

She nodded seriously. “Second Young Master, however you want me to thank you, I’ll do it if I can.”

Meng Fanchuan’s hand tapped lightly on the center armrest, as if pondering seriously. Finally, he looked up toward the window. “I’m a bit hungry.”

Cen Zhen: “...?”

His gaze returned to her as he casually smiled, “Don’t mind taking me for a late-night snack, do you?”