Chapter 75: Then Let Us Drink Ourselves Into Oblivion

Seeing Lian Youyou bowing and scraping before the chairman of Vast Horizons, Fan Xiaoyun felt a surge of superiority and satisfaction. She was determined to crush Lian Youyou beneath her feet—just as she had in childhood, and again now.

“Sister, didn’t you say you weren’t coming yesterday? Why the sudden change of heart?” Fan Xiaoyun’s gaze lingered on Lian Youyou’s dress, which was several times more luxurious than the one she had previously worn, her jealousy all too apparent.

Lian Youyou had no interest in arguing and ignored her.

Fan Xiaoyun barely had time to relish her sense of triumph before her mood soured again—standing by Lian Youyou was a man so handsome he made her own date pale by comparison.

“Sister, you really are fickle. Not long ago, you were hanging around Yuan Ye all day on set, and as soon as filming wrapped you’ve latched onto another pretty boy.” Fan Xiaoyun, never one to shy from slinging mud, deliberately mentioned Fu Yuanye in front of Lu Ming. “So, who is this pretty boy—”

“Ahem!” The man beside Fan Xiaoyun interrupted her with a couple of forceful coughs and nudged her with his elbow, signaling her to stop talking.

Fan Xiaoyun snapped impatiently, “What is it?”

“Pretty boy, dark face—what nonsense are you spouting? That’s my cousin,” the man growled.

Cousin?

“Really?” For once, Fan Xiaoyun and Lian Youyou wore matching expressions of surprise. They looked first at this “dark face,” then at Lu Ming, the so-called “pretty boy.” One exuded devil-may-care arrogance, the other a cold reserve. It was hard to imagine they were related.

Lu Feng shifted uncomfortably and said to Lu Ming, “Brother, didn’t you have urgent business to attend to today?”

Lian Youyou had been chosen as a spokesperson by his cousin in a rare move, so Lu Feng had suspected they might know each other. He’d gone to great lengths today to get Lu Ming out of the way.

Lu Ming replied, “Nothing is more important than Youyou.”

Suddenly, it felt like they’d been force-fed a mouthful of syrupy affection.

Sensing that things weren’t going her way, Fan Xiaoyun grabbed Lu Feng and dragged him to a secluded corner.

“What’s going on?” Her expression betrayed her irritation. “Why didn’t you tell me you had a cousin who’s dating Lian Youyou? You should have made sure he stayed away if you knew about their relationship. Now that he’s with her, how am I supposed to carry out the plan?”

“How was I supposed to know they were involved?” Lu Feng retorted, a little annoyed. “Didn’t you also not know she had a boyfriend?”

Though he was chairman in name, the largest shareholder—and actual power behind the company—was Lu Ming. Lu Feng only got the title because Lu Ming had taken a teaching job at Binhai University and didn’t want his real identity exposed.

Fan Xiaoyun, not entirely unreasonable, softened her tone at once when she saw Lu Feng was upset. “President Lu, don’t be angry. I’m just anxious, that’s all. You promised you’d help me—once a gentleman gives his word, there’s no going back. You can’t break your promise.”

“Of course I’ll help you, darling,” Lu Feng said, slipping an arm around her shoulders and kissing her lips. “I’ve arranged everything for you. Don’t worry—after tonight, Lian Youyou will never be able to show her face in the entertainment industry again.”

He figured that even if Lu Ming liked Lian Youyou now, after tonight, her reputation would be utterly ruined. Lu Ming would surely break up with her.

A short while later, Fan Xiaoyun returned to where they’d been before, arm in arm with an unfamiliar man. Lian Youyou stood alone, gazing absentmindedly at a mural on the wall.

“Sis, where’s that handsome guy you came in with?” Fan Xiaoyun glanced around, making sure Lu Ming was nowhere nearby before asking.

“He got a call about something urgent and said he wouldn’t be coming back tonight,” Lian Youyou replied.

Fan Xiaoyun suppressed a giddy thrill. Lu Feng was efficient, she had to admit.

“Sis, let me introduce you. This is the well-known director Han Ronggui.”

“Miss Lian, pleasure to meet you,” Han Ronggui’s greasy, unctuous voice oozed into Lian Youyou’s ear.

She’d heard of Han Ronggui from Richard. According to him, Han Ronggui had no memorable films to his name, but he was infamous for preying on actresses. From the lead roles down to supporting cast with barely a line, almost every woman in his films had slept with him.

Actresses with any reputation refused to work with Han Ronggui. The word was, he preferred casting newcomers. In truth, it was just that they were easier to deceive.

“Hello, Director Han,” Lian Youyou forced a polite smile.

Han Ronggui’s beady eyes, squeezed nearly shut by his fleshy cheeks, swept her from head to toe like a laser.

Definitely a beauty.

“Miss Lian, although the series you starred in hasn’t aired yet, I’ve heard of you because you signed with New Star Entertainment,” Han Ronggui said, handing her his business card. “You have great potential. I expect we’ll have the chance to work together.”

Lian Youyou accepted the card, her face icy.

“Sis, isn’t it rude to ignore Director Han?” Fan Xiaoyun picked up a glass of wine and pressed it into Lian Youyou’s hand. “Come on, toast the director and apologize.”

Catching the cunning glint in Fan Xiaoyun’s eyes and the eagerness in Han Ronggui’s, Lian Youyou seriously suspected there was something wrong with the wine.

As she hesitated, a commotion erupted outside the hall. It was the women guests making a fuss, with shouts and jostling.

The noise drew Lian Youyou’s attention, as well as the others’. They all turned to see what was happening.

Fu Yuanye entered, dressed in a white suit, surrounded by a crowd of young women.

Fan Xiaoyun, seeing him arrive, couldn’t stay put. She set her glass on the table and was about to hurry over.

“Sister, what’s the rush?” The more eager Fan Xiaoyun was, the more Lian Youyou held her back. “You haven’t finished your drink. Director Han has been waiting for ages—it would be rude not to toast him.”

Lian Youyou held the glass out to Fan Xiaoyun. “Finish your wine first. It won’t take long.”

Fan Xiaoyun reached for the glass, though her gaze remained fixed on Fu Yuanye.

The three clinked glasses and drained their drinks in one go.

…

Elsewhere in the hall, Fan Chi had been coerced into drinking three glasses of red wine and was already feeling lightheaded.

His tolerance was poor—one bottle of wine would make him throw up several times.

After saying goodbye to his friends, Fan Chi left the banquet hall, took the elevator downstairs, and stepped outside for some fresh air.

Flushed from the alcohol, he tugged at his tie and unbuttoned his shirt. The chill in the air cleared his head a little.

He sat for a while on the steps outside the hotel. Once he felt better, he stood up to go back inside, but stopped short when he saw a figure by the fountain.

In front of the ice-covered fountain, a slender girl crouched, occupied with something.

Fan Chi tried to make his footsteps as light as possible and quietly approached her from behind.

Her face was hidden by her long hair, her hands red from the cold as she carefully carved into the ice with a chisel.

Fan Chi stared, entranced, and couldn’t help but call out, “Xiaomeng…”

This was exactly how he’d first met Lian Meng.

Their first encounter had also been in winter. On set, while everyone else was cramming lines, there was one girl—either mischievous or already finished with her script—who sat by a frozen basin, carving into the ice with a chisel, whimsical and lively.

Later he learned that the playful girl was none other than the already-famous Lian Meng.

Despite his calling out, the girl didn’t seem to hear him, continuing to carve at the ice.

Was he drunk…? Why did he have this illusion?

Fan Chi stepped forward and grabbed her hand, pulling her up. “Xiaomeng!”

“You’re drunk. I’m Quan Qing’er, not your ex-wife.”

Quan Qing’er yanked her hand away coldly and crouched down again to carve.

“You are Xiaomeng!” Fan Chi wouldn’t let go, trying to embrace her. “Xiaomeng, you’re back—why didn’t you tell me? No, you never really left, did you? You’re just playing a trick on me, aren’t you?”

If he was drunk, let him stay drunk forever, never to wake.

“Xiaomeng, do you know how I’ve survived these twenty-some years?” Fan Chi’s voice was hoarse with anguish. “I’ve lived with Qu Wuyan, but we’re strangers in the same bed. I never loved her. Only after you left did I realize you were the one I loved. Come back, I know I was wrong—I really know I was wrong…”

Quan Qing’er, far from softening at his outburst, only grew more disgusted. “You’re really drunk. Let go of me—I want to go back!”

They struggled. In the tussle, the chisel in Quan Qing’er’s hand accidentally cut Fan Chi.

“Are you all right?” Seeing blood flow from his palm, Quan Qing’er panicked. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to! Fan Chi, are you okay?”