Chapter 112: What You Can’t Have Always Stirs

Zhang Yang spoke with casual ease.

At home, a little modesty was fine. But in public, especially in front of the most beautiful girl from his high school class, modesty? Why bother? Years later, wouldn’t anyone want to drive up in a Bentley in front of the school beauty and say, “Long time no see”? It’s only human nature.

He glanced at Meng Baihan, still staring blankly, and with a mischievous spark added, “But actually… even with all this, there’s still one thing I’ve never had.”

Meng Baihan’s eyes widened, her heart pounding at the sight of the handsome figure in front of her.

“W-what is it?”

“You tell me,” Zhang Yang said with a smile, extending his hand.

Meng Baihan, almost instinctively, placed her hand in his.

Zhang Yang held her smooth, delicate hand and pulled her along.

Behind them, Huang Yuzhou stood frozen, tongue-tied, still reeling from what he had just witnessed.

His own promises and assurances paled entirely in comparison to this junior’s killer combination of setup and confession.

“Have I really lost this completely?” he muttered, clenching his fists unconsciously.

Far ahead, Zhang Yang had no idea how far they’d walked. Then he released her hand.

“Alright, that person is thoroughly shaken off. He probably won’t bother you anymore. No need to thank me.”

Zhang Yang said it lightly, his expression showing none of the deep sincerity he’d displayed moments ago.

Meng Baihan was stunned.

She was still lost in the feeling of that perfect moment, as if it had been a flawless dream she didn’t want to wake from.

“Zhang Yang… what you just said… it was all… a joke?”

“Which part? Cars and property, or the confession?” Zhang Yang laughed at her. “The cars and house are real. The confession? Classmate, didn’t I say I’d help you get out of this? You didn’t take it seriously, did you…”

“No, of course not,” Meng Baihan said, flashing a disappointed glance but forcing a smile as she denied it.

“Hmm,” Zhang Yang looked at her dazed expression and wondered if he had gone a bit overboard.

After all, he had underestimated his current charm. Handsome like a novel protagonist, wealthy, with a heartfelt monologue-honestly, it’s irresistible, no matter whether a girl is materialistic or just appreciates appearances.

“Then I’ll take you home. Or do you want to keep wandering?”

“I… I want to go back. I’ll take a cab myself. You go on, don’t worry about me,” Meng Baihan stammered, flustered.

“Cab? We’re old classmates, no need for formalities. Let’s go.” Zhang Yang tugged her along without waiting for a response.

A short while later, inside the Cayenne, Zhang Yang tried to ease the mood by chatting casually.

“The property at Violet Gardens No. 1, part of it was my parents’ money, part my brother earned himself. He’s done renovations for years,” Meng Baihan said softly, head slightly lowered.

“Your uncle and aunt are in business too, right?” Zhang Yang asked casually. He remembered her from high school as being from a well-off family-not an ordinary girl.

Meng Baihan nodded gently.

“Zhang Yang…” she suddenly called him.

“Hmm?” Zhang Yang glanced at her while driving.

“What you just said… it startled me. It felt completely real.” Meng Baihan stared at him, studying his expression. “When did you get so good at making lies sound true?”

Zhang Yang smiled lightly as he drove.

“Can’t say it’s entirely a lie.”

Meng Baihan’s heart fluttered, feeling inexplicably excited.

“So… you mean?”

“Back in high school, think about it-how many boys liked you in class?” Zhang Yang said casually.

“Does that… include you?” she asked, gathering courage.

“Yeah, now I think about it, maybe I just admired you-a genuine appreciation for something beautiful,” he replied casually.

Meng Baihan’s heart lifted. She pursed her lips, watching him with a mix of joy and frustration. “Then why… didn’t you say anything back then?!”

“Don’t be silly. If I’d said something, you’d have handed me a ‘nice guy’ card, right?” Zhang Yang teased, though some thoughts remained unsaid.

For instance, admiration? That had been the past. He was no longer the same Zhang Yang from high school.

“Well… maybe you can’t be sure unless you try,” Meng Baihan murmured, a hint of regret lingering. Even telling herself life always has regrets offered little comfort.

Zhang Yang smiled but stayed silent.

Meng Baihan’s family lived in an old villa district in the city. Though aged, every household was wealthy, part of the earliest affluent families in Yinghai.

He drove slowly up to the villa entrance and stopped in front of one. It was a townhome, well-kept, nothing like other villas with messy vegetable patches at the gate.

“Zhang Yang, thank you for taking me back.”

Meng Baihan hesitated, hoping he’d say something more.

“No problem, we’re classmates,” he replied casually, nothing more.

He turned to look out the window and saw a slightly plump, fair-skinned middle-aged man staring at them-probably Meng Baihan’s father. He decided not to greet him.

He watched Meng Baihan get out and drove off.

Outside the villa, Meng Baihan’s father approached her.

“That young man just now, he seems quite impressive.”

“Ah?” Meng Baihan replied nervously. “He’s a high school classmate.”

“You never mentioned him before,” he said, nodding. “What’s he doing now? Local or elsewhere?”

“Oh, Dad, just an ordinary classmate. Don’t ask,” she said, laughing and crying at the same time, hurrying inside.

Her father watched her run off thoughtfully, then called someone immediately.

Soon, Meng Mingfeng’s voice came through the phone.

“Dad, are you sure it was the tall, handsome one in the Cayenne?”

“Yes, you know about this?”

“Yes, I know. That’s definitely my sister’s classmate. Conditions are excellent, just bought a villa. Only flaw-he has a girlfriend,” Meng Mingfeng rambled, then changed the topic.

“Why bother telling me all this? Waste of time!” Their father hung up sharply, frowning.

Zhang Yang hadn’t planned to stay long this trip, but he ended up helping prepare the family’s new restaurant and supervising the renovation, losing track of time.

He video-called Bei Wei every few days to check progress.

The roast duck item was gaining popularity, inquiries surged, and franchises were in negotiation. Breaking ten stores soon seemed inevitable-maybe even before he returned to Shanghai.

One day, in a café:

“Mr. Zhang, these are all the design drawings and details,” Lin Jingmin pushed her notebook forward. “I also sent a copy to your email.”

Zhang Yang glanced over.

With a 15 million budget, knowing Zhang Yang could find experts surpassing her, she had poured her energy and inspiration into the villa design. The results were very satisfying.

She sat next to him, explaining details, occasionally pausing to look at him for praise.

“This is impressive. How did you come up with all this?” Zhang Yang said, clearly impressed, slapping her thigh in excitement.

Lin Jingmin winced slightly but felt proud seeing his satisfaction.

“Pushed myself. I know you have top-notch people behind you, so ordinary designs wouldn’t suffice. I kept revising until it was right.”

Zhang Yang nodded, satisfied with her effort. She had clearly taken this seriously.

Looking at her confidently handing over the budget, he knew she wasn’t afraid of being questioned.

“Alright, satisfied. Now it’s on you to follow through.” Zhang Yang nodded, then noticed the smooth texture beneath his hand.

“Nice stockings,” he commented.

“Balenciaga lettered socks. Do you like them?” Lin Jingmin felt a small thrill of pride.

Zhang Yang glanced at her: above, serene and restrained; below, the subtly seductive Balenciaga socks. He fell into thoughtful contemplation.

“Do you have any plans later?”

“Being with you is my plan. With a villa project this big, if I hang around for half a day or a full day, isn’t that normal?” Lin Jingmin said matter-of-factly.

“Fair enough,” Zhang Yang agreed sincerely.

A short while later, the two left the café and, without much thought, found a nearby hotel to continue discussing the design plans.

In the afternoon, Zhang Yang lounged on the bed, expression calm and detached, completely in “sage mode.” This time, it was his turn to be serene and unbothered.

Lin Jingmin leaned over beside him, tilting her head to look at his face while scrolling through her short video app, sharing funny clips with him, trying to win his attention and make him smile.

“Huh? Why do your unread messages keep popping up?” Zhang Yang glanced at her, pointing out the notifications curiously.

Lin Jingmin openly unlocked her phone to check.

“EliteCraft Interiors?” Zhang Yang seemed to recognize the name vaguely.

“That’s Meng Mingfeng,” Lin Jingmin said with a smile, opening the chat. “I didn’t reply to his WeChat; I came here instead.”

The private chat was now fully visible in front of Zhang Yang.

EliteCraft Interiors: You’re clearly online, why aren’t you replying after reading?

Zhang Yang glanced at the messages, blinking.

Lin Jingmin’s delicate brows furrowed slightly as her fingers moved swiftly across the screen, sending line after line of text.

“To be honest, if I really cared about you, I would proactively contact you, tell you about my day, and share all sorts of trivial things.”

“Not have you chasing me every day asking What are you doing? Have you eaten? Are you off work?”

“Every bit of my passive and active behavior says it all.”

“That is, I don’t like you. Got it?”

Zhang Yang held the small figure curled up in his arms while reading the most private messages she had sent, unsure how to respond.

It was surprising-Meng Baihan’s brother appeared successful, but behind the scenes, he behaved like this.

Zhang Yang didn’t feel triumphant. He was simply puzzled.

Hadn’t Meng Mingfeng been unable to find a woman? Why insist on dangling all his emotions over Lin Jingmin alone?

He didn’t hide his curiosity and brought the topic up casually with Lin Jingmin.

“I can sum it up in one sentence,” she said, closing the chat window without looking back.

“What sentence?” Zhang Yang asked curiously.

“This: what you can’t have always stirs, and those who are favored act without fear,” she said, looking at him.

“Got it. Meaning he can’t let go because he can’t have it. But the favored one-who are you talking about?” Zhang Yang asked with a wink.

“Do I even need to say…” Lin Jingmin tilted her face up to his serene, detached expression and repeatedly pressed warm kisses to him.

“Of course, it’s you, Mr. Zhang.”

“This is getting ridiculous,” Zhang Yang said with a slight laugh.

He looked at Lin Jingmin’s fair, serene yet tender face, deciding not to waste a beautiful afternoon.

Around two or three in the afternoon, Lin Jingmin took a shower, tidied her clothes, and quietly left the room.

Zhang Yang showered at his own pace, then stood by the window lighting a cigarette.

He glanced at his phone and saw a message from Meng Baihan:

When are you going back to Shanghai?

Zhang Yang found it odd-why was she reaching out proactively?

He replied casually:

Not sure yet, probably a little while longer.

Some classmates from our class are on leave and came back to Yinghai. I was thinking of getting everyone together for a small reunion, Meng Baihan replied.

“Who’s coming?” Zhang Yang asked.

She listed a few names.

As expected, they were the bright, standout students from their year who used to hang out with her.

“I won’t go. I don’t really hang out with them,” Zhang Yang said casually.

As for trying to impress classmates or assert dominance at a reunion, he didn’t care at all. Their opinions no longer mattered to him.

“Huh? You won’t even let me save face a little?” Meng Baihan asked, slightly disappointed.

“It’s not about saving face,” Zhang Yang laughed. “The point is, whether I go or not, it makes no difference. One less or more doesn’t matter.”