Why is This Troublemaker So Damn Rich?

"So he’s a tough one?"

The supervisor nodded. "Don’t even try to compare. You’ll just drive yourself crazy."

Xiaowang sat back down. He knew his supervisor was the office grapevine; he was privy to all the company’s secrets and gossip, so his information was probably accurate.

"Hey, Shen Meng is leaving too!"

As for the office beauty leaving early, they all knew it wouldn’t be a problem. President Li would just make up an excuse for her himself.

’Could she be with Yang Hui again? Are those two an official item now?’

’Isn’t this a public slap in the face for President Li? How can he stand it?’

Pulling open the passenger-side door, Shen Meng fastened her seatbelt and said, "We leave this early every day. President Li must be furious."

Shifting into drive, he pulled away smoothly. He smiled, his charming eyes crinkling at the corners. "If he’s not happy with me, he can fire me."

"I don’t think President Li has ever met an employee as defiant as you in his entire life."

"Then he should be grateful. At his age, he still has an employee willing to show him a thing or two."

"Huh? Aren’t you taking me home? Where are we going?"

"To dinner!"

Shen Meng gasped. "Yang Hui, you’re being really pushy."

He laughed. "Today, I am. From now on, I’ll ask you to dinner in advance."

’Today?’ Her heart skipped a beat. ’Could he...?’

Last night, her cousin had mentioned that today was her birthday. She had spent it with her cousin and her aunt last year.

Her cousin was probably having dinner with Wang Hua tonight. ’Is he taking me to a birthday dinner?’

The leather seats of the Mercedes E-Class faintly gave off a cedar fragrance. The Berlin Audio system was playing the saxophone interlude from "My Funny Valentine," and she suddenly felt that the lyric "You make my heart change its tune" was quite fitting.

She pretended to fix a stray hair in the rearview mirror, but was actually using its reflection to steal a glance at his profile. He was wearing a subtly patterned shirt today, with the second button undone. The shadow of his collarbone on the fabric was like a riddle. ’It’s probably just a friendly birthday wish from a coworker...’ But then she remembered last night’s hug, which seemed to have already crossed the line of a normal collegial relationship.

Just then, her phone chimed with a notification. She picked it up and saw a message from her cousin, Wu Min: "Shen Meng, I can’t be with you tonight. Happy birthday!"

A moment later, Wu Min sent a picture: a bag with the Longines logo on it.

Below it was a caption: "Wang Hua is pretty generous; he got me a Longines watch. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have bothered having dinner with him."

Knowing her cousin loved to show off, she just smiled and put her phone away.

The car drove through the commercial district. The last rays of the setting sun streamed through the sunroof, scattering specks of light like crushed diamonds across her skirt.

When the car turned into the exclusive access lane for the rooftop restaurant at Xinyue Square, she suddenly felt a thrill—the feeling of being cherished, it turned out, was more intoxicating than champagne bubbles.

Youhua Youchu

Located on the top floor of Xinyue Square, every private room was designed with a Monet’s Garden theme. Fresh peonies adorned the tables, creating a sense of French romance.

The moment the door to their private room swung open, a crystal chandelier reflected off the rose-gold-leaf plates, making them glitter like shattered stars. A silk scarf, the same color as her blouse, was tied to the main dining chair.

Yang Hui led Shen Meng by the hand to her seat, then instructed the waiter to begin serving the food.

As he adjusted her chair for her, with the night cityscape as a backdrop, his shirt cuff unintentionally brushed against the nape of her neck, sending shivers down her spine.

The low-temperature foie gras tapas were arranged into numbers for her birthday, followed by the main course: a "Surf and Turf Carnivore’s Platter."

Aged whiskey was poured into a glass with an ice sphere. He raised his glass, smiled, and congratulated her, "Happy birthday!"

Many years later, Shen Meng would still remember this moment vividly. His eyes were so bright, and his smile was truly captivating.

The dessert cart, pushed forward by the waiter, seemed to be edged in gold under the candlelight. When the gilded cloche was lifted—

Her breath caught in her throat.

On a blue velvet tray, the curved case of a Cartier Ballon Bleu watch reflected the candlelight. Its Roman numeral markers, guided by the signature blue cabochon crown, seemed to stray slightly from their path, like a secretly kept star that had suddenly fallen into her palm.

Her fingertips hovered over the watch face, her eyelashes fluttering twice. The blue light refracted by the crystal cast a shimmering spot on her collarbone.

"Here, let me put it on for you."

Yang Hui came over. As the strap of the Cartier Ballon Bleu gently clicked shut on her slender wrist, her fingertips trembled slightly—as if startled by the cool touch of the metal, or perhaps scalded by the sudden, weighty gesture. The Roman numerals on the dial glowed with a faint blue light, making the skin of her wrist appear even paler.

And now, the warmth of her wrist was causing the sapphire cabochon crown to fog up, as if an answer she hadn’t dared to speak aloud had finally taken physical form.

Yang Hui took her wrist, as fair and smooth as warm jade, and admired it.

Shen Meng looked up shyly and asked, "Is it beautiful?" Her voice was softer than usual, the end of her sentence rising slightly, as if she were both testing the waters and being coquettish.

His gaze traveled slowly up from her wrist to meet her slightly lowered eyelashes—which were trembling nervously, like the fluttering of a butterfly’s wings, betraying the composure she was trying so hard to maintain.

A slight smile touched his lips, a hint of amusement in his eyes. He deliberately drew out his words, "It’s... beau-ti-ful!"

"Is the watch beautiful, or am I?"

Yang Hui pretended to think for a moment, as if seriously considering the comparison, before answering with a straight face, "The watch is beautiful."

Shen Meng’s nose crinkled slightly, but then she heard him add, "But the person wearing it is even more beautiful!"

Her ears instantly turned red. She unconsciously fiddled with the sapphire on the crown, murmuring under her breath, "You’re... awful!"

He suddenly leaned in, looking directly into her eyes, and asked with a smile, "Do you find me awful?"

Her breath hitched. When she looked up, she fell right into his smiling, charming eyes—reflected in them was the blue from the watch face, and her own unprepared panic.

The next second, his hand cupped the back of her neck, his thumb stroking the soft, fine hairs at her hairline. The pressure was gentle yet undeniable. She instinctively tried to pull back, but his other arm wrapped firmly around her waist, pulling her into his embrace.

"Wait—" Her protest was cut off by his lips.

His kiss was sudden and fierce, tinged with the faint scent of whiskey, so hot it made her knees weak. Her fingers, clutching the front of his shirt, gradually tightened, wrinkling the fabric in her palm. His hand slid from the nape of her neck down her back; she could feel the heat of his palm even through her silk blouse, and it made her tremble.

Sensing her inexperience only fueled his masculine sense of conquest.

The sapphire on the watch strap pressed between their bodies. She could vaguely hear the faint ticking of the watch hands, like some kind of countdown—it wasn’t until he nibbled her lower lip and mumbled, "Don’t you need to breathe?" that she realized she had been holding her breath the entire time.

Yang Hui released her, helping the blushing Shen Meng back into her seat. Just then, the melody of "My Funny Valentine" drifted through the room again. She suddenly noticed that the second button of his shirt was the exact same shade of blue as the crown on her Ballon Bleu watch.

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