Why is This Troublemaker So Damn Rich?

Leaving Starbucks, he remembered Yang Na telling him the renovation materials had arrived at the store last night. He decided to go take a look.

There was a small door on the side of the construction hoarding. As he approached, he saw that it wasn’t locked from the outside. It was even slightly ajar. He pushed it open and went in.

Unexpectedly, there was someone inside.

She was bent over at the waist, examining the materials. The denim of her jeans bunched at her waist, yet it couldn’t hide the slenderness of her figure or the full, pert curve of her hips, like a bow that remains supple despite being repeatedly folded in a yoga class.

Hearing the noise, she turned around. She seemed a little surprised to see Yang Hui.

"What a coincidence!"

Remembering he had just taken her latte, Yang Hui took the initiative to greet her.

Up close, the round collar of her T-shirt revealed a long, slender neck and collarbones as sharp as if carved. Her eyes were like amber chilled by an iced latte. When her eyelashes trembled in the air conditioning, the shadows they cast were like the fleeting ripples of latte art.

She nodded in response, but asked with a hint of confusion, "And you are?"

"This shop is mine. I came to check on it."

He didn’t notice the strange glint that flashed in her eyes when he said the shop was his.

His phone began to ring. RING RING RING~

That jinx Yang Na. Aunt Zheng was actually calling.

He pressed the answer key. "Aunt Zheng."

Her eyes narrowed slightly, the lashes at the corners forming a sharp arc. She discreetly flipped her phone screen-down in her palm. A text conversation was open on it: "Chouchou, darling, I’m about to call Xiaoyang and invite him over for dinner. No matter how busy you are, you need to make time for him, or I’ll cry my eyes out for you."

Chouchou was her childhood nickname. When she was born, the elders in her family said that the uglier the name, the more beautiful the child would grow up to be—a kind of reverse psychology. So, they named her Chouchou. It didn’t matter when she was little, but being called that as an adult was just too embarrassing.

Her mom was doing it on purpose. When she was happy, she called her Xiaomei. She only used the nickname when she was unhappy.

Clearly, her lack of cooperation had made her mom a little unhappy.

’Then again, just like Mom said, this Yang Hui is quite handsome, but he seems a little dim-witted. He can’t even get his own coffee right.’

"Ah, Aunt Zheng, it might not be a good time for me these next couple of days. I have too much going on. Maybe some other time?"

"It’s fine! If your daughter isn’t there, I can just come visit you. We don’t have to wait until she’s around."

"We’ve been talking! We talk every day."

"What? You want to test me? About her personality? How much I know about her?"

Yang Hui glanced at his phone’s microphone. ’Have my half-hearted replies been that obvious?’ Otherwise, why wouldn’t she believe him when he said he was chatting with her daughter every day and that they were getting along great? Why would she need to quiz him on what he knew about her?

"Her personality... well, she’s a bit shy. And, um, a little insecure."

He pictured Aunt Zheng’s daughter in his mind: built like a sumo wrestler. A girl like that would definitely be insecure and have low self-esteem, right?

"Yeah, we encourage each other a lot. She says my business is bound to be a huge success, and I often tell her not to worry so much about appearances—it’s inner beauty that truly counts."

He was talking complete nonsense, sweating as he spun his tale. Finally, Aunt Zheng asked faintly, "Xiaoyang, I really think you two must meet. From your description, I don’t see the slightest hint of my daughter."

Yang Hui remembered someone else was there and glanced over. He found her with her arms crossed, apparently listening to his phone call. The full curve of her chest stretched the T-shirt, creating a deep, shadowed valley, yet her collarbones were as sharp as if carved from stone, forming two acute angles as she folded her arms. The fabric cinched abruptly at her waist, accentuating the startling difference between her wasp waist and flaring hips.

A thought suddenly struck him. He spoke into the phone, "Aunt Zheng, I’m with a friend discussing something right now. Let’s talk again later."

As he spoke, he shot her a look, signaling for her to play along.

Hu Mei’s lips pursed in a non-smile, the Cupid’s bow of her upper lip pressing down with a hint of subtle meaning. "Let’s discuss this case."

He gave her a thumbs-up. ’Awesome. Clever.’

Then, back into the phone, "Aunt Zheng, you heard that, right? I’m in the middle of..."

"Mr. Xiao Yang, you two talk. Have a good chat. Maybe you can see a movie or something this afternoon."

What the hell? He hung up, a look of pure confusion on his face.

Aunt Zheng must be addicted to matchmaking. Her own daughter wasn’t enough for her schemes. He had clearly told her he was discussing business with a friend, but the moment she heard a woman’s voice, she was telling him to take her to the movies.

He glanced at Hu Mei out of the corner of his eye. She was alluring and beautiful, but her expression was one that kept everyone at arm’s length. ’Even if I agreed to go to the movies, she never would.’

"Thanks for that. It was an elder who’s... very enthusiastic."

He explained, thanking her for her cooperation. He expected her to just give another cool nod, but to his surprise, she asked, "It sounds like she wants to introduce you to her daughter. You seem pretty against it. Are her prospects that bad?"

He wasn’t the type to gossip about people behind their backs. Even though he was convinced she was ugly, he would never discuss someone’s appearance like that. Hearing Hu Mei’s question, he just smiled faintly and said, "I wouldn’t say bad, just not my type."

"Oh? You said she’s insecure, and you told her not to worry about her looks. Doesn’t that mean she’s both ugly and has very low self-esteem? And that’s not bad?"

He glanced at her. He wouldn’t have guessed she’d be the type to care about such things.

He said casually, "Not ugly, per se. Maybe just a little—"

"A little what?" Her eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint flickering within them.

She was really pushing for an answer. Yang Hui once again pictured a Japanese sumo wrestler and said, "Just a little heavy. I’m guessing around 220 pounds, which is why she’s probably a bit self-conscious."

Her thick lashes slowly lifted. It was as if ice was crystallizing in her amber pupils—first a flash of absurd disbelief, then a look as sharp as a razor’s edge.

And yet, her lips curved into an unnaturally sweet arc. When her red lips parted, her pearly teeth glinted with a cold light. "Have you met her?"

He couldn’t believe someone like her could be such a gossip. Her interest in this was starting to rival Aunt Zheng’s.

He didn’t respond to that. ’Maybe all women are gossips by nature.’

"Anyway, you’re here because...?"

He had just introduced himself as the owner, here to check on things. He was curious what her story was.

"Let me introduce myself. Serene. I’m the business representative for NLB Brand Company, in charge of Qingjiang Province."

Serene? ’Why do all these Chinese people love giving themselves Western names? That guy An Ping he met yesterday was the same,’ he thought.

’Does having a Western name automatically make you fashionable and trendy?’ He really didn’t think so.

Still, he was quite surprised to find out she was the NLB business representative for Qingjiang Province.

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