After sending his third message, Fu Zhiyie stared at the little red exclamation point in WeChat, sinking into silent thought.
Well. Fine.
She’s really determined to go her own way now!
Cecilia Ye, I’m done looking out for you!
Flipping his phone over, Fu Zhiyie dialed a number.
The call connected quickly, and a light, youthful voice came through.
“Bro Fu! Wow, did the sun rise in the west today? You’re actually calling me!”
“Cut the crap. Where are you tonight?”
“No way, we’re drinking—are you coming?”
Black Temptation was a famous bar in Beijing, though only famous among the wealthy. It was membership-only, and to even get a membership at Black Temptation, you needed assets well over a hundred million.
The one on the call was Lu Yang, who’d been Fu Zhiyie’s childhood friend since they were kids. Next to Fu Zhiyie, Lu Yang was all about fun—food, drink, parties, you name it—and Black Temptation was his second home.
“Heh. If you’re not coming to drink, what else would you be doing? The address.” Fu Zhiyie sounded impatient.
“Alright, I’ll send it right over.”
Lu Yang hung up with a playful laugh, waggling his eyebrows at the young men lounging in their booth.
“Just wait, my amazing childhood buddy is coming tonight. You guys are about to be blown away.”
The others, young scions of powerful families, took it as more of Lu Yang’s tall tales and scoffed, clearly not believing him.
Fu Zhiyie tossed aside his phone. Ever since marrying Cecilia Ye, he hadn't gone out drinking with Lu Yang and the others—not that he was ever one to indulge in nightlife anyway. If he had free time, he’d rather be working at the office, or at home having dinner with Cecilia Ye.
But tonight, Fu Zhiyie felt desperate for something to do—anything.
In the office’s private lounge, he pulled open the wardrobe and changed. A silky sapphire-blue shirt shimmered with understated silver under the lights, collar open two buttons, revealing a striking collarbone.
He grabbed his coat, went downstairs, and fired up the deep-blue sports car he'd let gather dust in the garage. Roaring out of the city with a single press of the gas, he pushed the car to its limits on the open road leading to Black Temptation.
Black Temptation’s plain white sign hardly looked like it belonged to a bar.
As soon as Fu Zhiyie stepped through the door, he spotted Lu Yang slouched by the entrance, waiting for him.
“Damn, get over here! It’s been months since I last saw you—and I only saw you on trending news a few days ago!”
He was clearly talking about the company’s annual gala, which had blown up online. Fu Zhiyie just frowned.
“Shut up. You’re noisy.”
“Alright, alright. Just didn’t expect you to be this sour after snagging the beauty.”
Ignoring the banter, Fu Zhiyie simply followed him inside. Dodging swaying bodies on the dance floor, the two made their way to a private booth.
The air inside was thick with booze—they’d clearly been drinking for a while. Dim light flickered over the guests slouched across the sofas. Amidst it all, Fu Zhiyie's cold, noble air stood out like a sore thumb.
They found seats. Lu Yang poured him a glass with a grin, only to back off under Fu Zhiyie’s icy glare.
Yeah, better not mess with him tonight. This particular elder brother was not in a mood to be trifled with.
Lu Yang slunk away. Fu Zhiyie raised his glass without a glance and downed the entire drink in one go, settling back against the seat, long legs crossed in front of him. With the second button undone, his shirt gaped a little further every time he lifted the drink.
A few girls on the sofa were already eyeing him, but Lu Yang shook his hand dismissively. “Forget it. He’s out of your league.”
One by one, the rich young men realized who had just sat down. There was a moment of stunned silence—Fu Zhiyie from the Fu family, here? People would brag about this for months.
But Fu Zhiyie paid them no attention. He poured himself another drink. The boisterous laughter and pounding music drowned out the anxiety buzzing in his mind.
The party carried on until two in the morning. The others wanted to go club-hopping, but Fu Zhiyie was done. He called for a ride home.
Halfway back toward the company, the driver glanced nervously in the rearview mirror at the brooding man in the backseat—not sure if he was drunk or just that grim, but this car… wow. A once-in-a-lifetime drive for a temp driver.
“Not there. Take me somewhere else,” Fu Zhiyie said coldly, then gave the address for the Fu residence. The driver nodded, understanding.
He hadn’t been back for days, and with Cecilia Ye gone, only a few house staff remained. The house was silent.
Fu Zhiyie went upstairs. He hadn’t drunk like this in years; his head was spinning, but his expression was still cold and severe.
With a bang, he shoved open the door. The heavy thud echoed through the quiet house, startling in the silence. Standing in the darkness, Fu Zhiyie hesitated.
Cecilia Ye was gone. The scent that belonged to her was fading from the room, from the air.
He flicked on the lights and stood for a long moment. Abruptly, he yanked open the wardrobe, only to find several spaces empty—clothes missing. Her residency permit and diamond ring still sat on the corner of the desk.
Something inside him seemed to vanish—just gone, leaving only emptiness.
He couldn’t describe the feeling. Snapping the wardrobe shut, he stumbled to the bed.
Drunk, he collapsed onto the covers. Buried in the sheets, the scent of Cecilia Ye—clinging here stronger than anywhere else—wrapped around him.
He picked up the diamond ring, clenched his hand tight around it, making a fist.
His chest felt heavy, like something was crushing him; his throat as if squeezed by an invisible hand. Every breath was labored and heavy.
Cecilia Ye was gone. She was deliberately avoiding him.
For so many years, she had always been by his side.
On this bed.
In his arms.
And now, he had no idea where Cecilia Ye had gone.