"Why on earth would you become a waitress?"
The young man's voice wasn't malicious—merely bewildered, blunt in the careless way wealthy heirs often were—but the words still cut through her as a blade dragged slowly across skin.
She had read none of the recent gossip. She had refused newspapers, shut off the television, and ignored social media.
If I don't see it, it can't hurt me, she had thought.
But hearing someone say it aloud—seeing their faces twist with curiosity and disdain right in front of her—pierced straight through her chest.
Her smile trembled, then steadied again with practiced grace.
"Sir," she said softly, "what would you like to order?"
He didn't even hear her.
"I heard the Lan family fell hard," he continued carelessly. "But not so hard that their eldest daughter needs to pour drinks. Isn't the Zhao family still there? Miss Lan, what happened to you? Are the rumors true? That you went crazy after your fiancé abandoned you?"
Her breath caught.
Her fingers tightened on the edge of the tray until her knuckles turned white.
But she still didn't move or speak.
The smile stayed on her face, thin and pale as paper.
Another man chimed in, smirking as he lifted his glass.
"No way. Even if she's fallen, she used to be Zinhai's number one socialite. Isn't it too degrading to be a waitress? Miss Lan, are you considering another… ah… profession? There are easier ways to make money than this."
Laughter rippled around the room like oil spreading on water.
Huayan was that kind of place—dark corners, whispered deals, money exchanged under tables.
She had known all that when she applied.
But she had believed she could stay clean, keep her dignity, just work quietly.
She hadn't expected to be torn apart on her first night.
A third man leaned forward with mock concern.
"Come now, be serious. I think Miss Lan is just here to relax. A woman like her working here? Impossible. Second brother, what do you think?"
The room shifted its focus toward Fan Yujing.
He didn't look at her directly.
He held his wine glass with lazy elegance, swirling the liquid lightly, the dim lights catching the sharp lines of his profile.
When his gaze finally grazed over her, it was a mere flicker and distant.
But his lips curled into a slow, amused smile as if he remembered something.
"I don't know her," he said lightly, as if discussing the weather. "So how would I know what kind of woman she is?"
Her heart lurched violently at one sentence.
The others laughed.
"Oh, right! The second brother never pays attention to gossip. Of course, you wouldn't know Miss Lan. Allow us to introduce—"
Her ears rang. She couldn't hear the rest.
He lied, she thought numbly. He lied so easily, so naturally… as if last night never happened. As if I never existed.
Shame washed over her in a hot wave.
Anger followed soon after.
Then something colder—self-loathing.
This job…
She couldn't do this.
Not like this.
She bowed slightly, voice trembling behind her polite tone.
"Excuse me. I'll send another server to take your order."
"Hey—Miss Lan, don't go! Sit and talk with us—"
But she was already gone.
She walked out stiffly, fighting the urge to run. Their voices chased her into the hallway—a mixture of laughter, admiration, and pity.
Behind her, Fan Yujing watched her retreat with eyes that no longer held laughter.
The teasing smile he'd worn moments ago vanished completely.
Wang Zhi—who had been loudest moments earlier—sank into the sofa with a groan.
"Second brother… I swear, I've never treated a girl that badly in my life. I think I committed a crime just now."
Another one—Fourth brother—slammed his glass on the table dramatically.
"I'm done! I've always supported your cold abstinent lifestyle, but this? This is wrong! You finally find a woman you can touch, and this is how you act? I felt like crying for her! My heart can't take this!"
Fan Yujing didn't respond.
In fact, he hadn't said a single word while his friends spoke over each other, but when he finally moved, it was with slow, unhurried precision. He crushed the cigarette between his fingers, leaned back on the sofa, and swept a chilled gaze over the group.
"Weren't you all quite entertained just now?" he asked lazily. "Now that she's gone, why bother pretending to feel sorry for her? What's the point?"
The casual cruelty in his tone made the third and fourth brothers fall silent immediately. They knew him too well—his softness, when it appeared, was fleeting, and his sharp edges always returned twice as fast.
But the fifth brother…
Ah, the poor, clueless fifth brother.
Barely nineteen, barely an adult, barely using his brain.
He grinned, kicked up his legs, and asked without hesitation:
"I think she's pretty cute. Doesn't seem like a bad girl either. Second Brother, aren't you going to chase her?"
The entire room froze.
The third brother's cigarette nearly slipped from his fingers.
The fourth brother choked on his wine.
Even Wang Zhi stared like the boy had just summoned a death wish out loud.
Because this—this question—was the very thing none of them had dared to ask all night.
Yet the fifth brother said it like a child, pointing at the candy.
All their gazes snapped toward Fan Yujing.
He picked up his wine glass at a leisurely pace, swirling the liquid with a faint, dangerous amusement. His lips curved—not in warmth, but in arrogance.
"What?" he murmured, voice low. "Do I need to date the women I want?"
The fifth brother froze, offended on behalf of all humans with decency.
So handsome, yet so arrogant—was this fair?
The eldest brother, who had seen more of the world than the rest combined, sipped his drink and regarded Fan Yujing calmly.
"Second brother, it's not wise to treat love like a game," he said. "Be careful—it may turn on you someday."
Fan Yujing didn't even blink.
"With my condition," he replied lightly, "it's rare that I can even touch a woman without collapsing into hives. And she happens to be my type. Why pretend to be noble? Besides, everyone knows what's going on at home this year. If she solves my problem, I can avoid the old man's matchmaking insanity. Peace and quiet—sounds good to me."
Third brother exhaled a long sigh.
"But that girl isn't a plaything. If you push her too far, she might reject you."
Fan Yujing didn't argue.
But his eyes darkened, a storm gathering behind glass.
They all knew his history.
His childhood trauma.
The cold sweat, the rashes, the near-fatal allergic reactions every time a woman touched him.
The brutal experiments his father had forced on him, bringing woman after woman to trigger a reaction, hoping one might slip past his body's defenses.
He had grown up shunning touch, affection, and desire.
He lived like a monk because he had no other choice.
So meeting a woman he could touch—finally—after all those years?
No one could blame him for reacting the way he did.
"Forget it," the third brother muttered at last, shaking his head. "Second brother never changes his mind. No use arguing with him. Let's drink. If he wants to sow chaos, let him. Who knows? Maybe we'll get to watch an entertaining tragedy later."
The fourth brother groaned. "I'm still worried. The girl looked like she was about to cry."
Meanwhile, Lan Xia fled the private room like it was on fire.
Her heart was pounding so hard she could hear it in her ears.
She spotted another waitress nearby and almost shoved the tray into her hands.
"Please take Room 303," she said breathlessly. "I… can't."
Her voice cracked.
She didn't wait for the waitress to respond.
"I'll tell Lei Ting I don't have the ability to do this job," she thought miserably. I can't handle this. I really can't.
She hurried toward the stairs, head down, determined to escape before she broke down completely.
But halfway down the steps—
Her body stiffened.
Someone was walking up from below.
A familiar figure.
A silhouette she recognized immediately—
Her blood ran cold.
Because the person ascending the stairs was…
Steve Han, Fan Yujing's secretary.