Xiang Wan bit down on her lip so hard it split, the metallic taste of blood filling her mouth. Bile rose in her throat, and each time she forced it back down. When she remained frozen, impatience flickered across the man’s face. The jeers from the crowd grew louder. With a soft click, the door to the private room swung open, revealing He Hanchuan’s tall, lean figure standing in the doorway. His cold gaze swept across the room before finally settling on the kneeling Xiang Wan. His brow furrowed, a barely perceptible tightening of his features. Meng Lan, meanwhile, leaned languidly against the wall, an air of indolent allure about her. The rowdy crowd that had been shouting moments before fell silent. Everyone snapped to attention, and one or two even scurried to open a window, letting the stale air out. “Mr… Mr. He.” The man shoved Xiang Wan aside, scrambling to his feet to stand at attention like the others. Xiang Wan, who had just grabbed an ashtray, was caught off guard. The shove sent her stumbling, and she collapsed to the floor as the ashtray shattered beneath her. But in that moment, no one paid her any mind, let alone wondered what she had planned to do with the ashtray. She scrambled to her feet and stood off to the side, head bowed. Shards from the ashtray had dug into her palm, and blood trickled down her fingers, dripping steadily onto the floor. He Hanchuan’s eyes lingered on her bleeding hand for a fraction of a second before he looked away, his expression unchanged. No one in the room dared to speak. The silence was unnerving. “Short on women?” He Hanchuan said, his voice cutting through the silence. He strode past Xiang Wan to face the man behind her. “Should I call a few for you?” The man gave a hollow laugh, his Adam’s apple bobbing nervously. “N-no, you don’t have to trouble yourself,” he stammered. He Hanchuan’s eyes bored into him. “It’s no trouble at all,” he said, his voice dangerously soft. “You’re our guest. It’s the Meng Club’s duty to satisfy your needs. Meng Lan.” “I’ll call some people over to help our pretty boy here have some fun,” Meng Lan purred, a slow smile playing on her red lips. She shot the man a theatrical wink. “How does six strapping men sound?” The color drained from the man’s face. His fingers and legs began to tremble uncontrollably, and beads of cold sweat broke out on his flaring nostrils. “Don’t be scared,” Meng Lan cooed, her eyes dancing with wicked amusement. “I even have something to help you… rise to the occasion. It’s on the house. Just consider it my good deed for the day.” Cold sweat drenched his forehead. His eyes darted around the room, pleading for help, but everyone pointedly avoided his gaze. He swallowed hard, more sweat trickling down his temples. “Mr… Mr. He, I… I was wrong. I shouldn’t have caused trouble in your club. I won’t… I mean, next t-time…” Pinned by He Hanchuan’s stare, his limbs gave out. He collapsed backward with a thud, landing in the disgusting mixture of vomit and shattered glass, utterly speechless. Fifteen minutes later, Xiang Wan finished cleaning the private room and stepped out. She saw He Hanchuan standing in the hallway, his back to her. A frown creased her brow, and clutching her cleaning supplies, she turned to walk in the opposite direction. “Come here.” His cool voice echoed from behind her. Xiang Wan pressed her lips into a thin line. Head bowed, she walked to his side. “For what happened back there… thank you.” “You really want to thank me?” He Hanchuan looked down at her, a hint of mockery in his eyes. “Or are you angry I interrupted your fun?” Her head snapped up, her eyes wide with disbelief. *What… what did he mean by that?* “What, did you strike out with Pei Song the other night and decide to change targets?” His gaze dropped to her still-bleeding hand, and his brow tightened for a moment before he looked away again. “Xiang Wan, you’re really not picky, are you? You’ll sink your teeth into any piece of trash.” The disbelief in Xiang Wan’s eyes slowly faded, replaced by bitter self-mockery. She lowered her head again. *To think, for even a second, that he might have cared. Ha. How could she have been so stupid?* *Even if that disgusting man had actually forced himself on her, He Hanchuan would probably just assume she’d led him on, wouldn’t he?*