"Teacher Zeng, as the old saying goes, out with the old, in with the new. Even though you lost your shares in this bar, you barely owned a fraction to begin with, right? Besides, you haven't seen a single penny in dividends yet. Why don't you just write it off as a loss like a man?"
Upon entering the downstairs bar of the iPartment complex, Adrian easily located the pathetic duo sitting in a dim corner booth, whining into their drinks.
Zeng Xiaoxian was openly sobbing on Lu Ziqiao's shoulder like a beaten dog. Adrian had just extracted the entire, miserable truth from the extortion of Huang Baoqiang. Huang had initially bought the bar for 1.5 million yuan using the embezzled network funds. To keep the spineless radio host from suing the TV station, Huang had hypocritically tossed Zeng a measly 10% equity stake to shut him up.
First, the network's legal contracts had been airtight; if Zeng had gone to court, he likely would have lost his job and the money anyway. So, buckling under the pressure of Huang's financial manipulation, the coward took the bribe. A massive five-million-yuan prize had been instantly downgraded to a hundred-and-fifty-thousand-yuan illusion.
But the true comedic tragedy was that Zeng never saw a dime of it. The contract stated dividends were locked for a full year. Taking advantage of this technicality, the parasitic playboy Lu Ziqiao had tricked Zeng into hosting two lavish bar parties on "credit" against his shares. The parties cost less than fifty thousand yuan, yet Huang used the mounting debt to legally strip Zeng of his remaining equity entirely.
From five million, to a fraction of a bar, to absolutely nothing.
'To be completely drained of wealth in two months... the man is a spectacular idiot,' Adrian sneered internally, watching from the shadows. Of course, without a manipulative leech like Ziqiao constantly whispering in his ear, the idiot might have held onto his meager crumbs a little longer.
"You call that a discount?" Ziqiao exclaimed, his face stretched into an exaggerated mask of mock astonishment. "They sell a beer for ten yuan to strangers, and they charge you nine yuan and eighty cents. Is that what you consider a shareholder privilege?"
Honestly, observing the cast of iPartment through a television screen was one thing, but analyzing them in the flesh was infuriating. Lu Ziqiao was a literal parasite. He cheated, lied, and scammed every single person in his orbit. The only reason he hadn't been found dead in a ditch with his throat slit was because his roommates were incredibly soft, forgiving sheep. Had Ziqiao pulled a scam like that in the apocalypse, Adrian would have casually fed his intestines to the dogs.
"My beautiful shares!" Zeng Xiaoxian continued to wail, burying his face in his hands. For a grown man to sob so loudly and shamelessly in a public bar was a truly pathetic spectacle. However, the regular patrons were clearly accustomed to the radio host's spineless theatrics; no one even batted an eye.
"Keep crying here, Teacher Zeng. My radar is pinging. I have prey to hunt," Ziqiao suddenly announced. He stood up like a hound catching a scent and scanned the room.
Following the playboy's predatory gaze, Adrian noticed a stunning woman sitting alone at the bar counter just a few feet away.
Ziqiao smoothed his hair, carelessly wiped Zeng's tears off his jacket shoulder, snatched a colorful bottle of Bacardi from a passing waiter, and slid smoothly into the seat beside the girl.
"Excuse me, miss. Did you just order a bottle of Ice Breezer?" Ziqiao asked smoothly.
"Sorry, I didn't order anything. You must have the wrong person," the girl replied softly, shaking her head.
Adrian leaned against a structural pillar, his dark eyes conducting a slow, predatory appraisal of the new target.
The girl possessed a distinct, square-jawed facial structure. Generally speaking, a square face lent a woman an aura of dignified austerity—a look that commanded respect rather than raw, carnal arousal. For most women, it was a severe aesthetic drawback. But there were always top-tier exceptions. When the facial features perfectly matched the jawline, the result was a striking, unconventional beauty that shattered normal aesthetic standards.
Audrey Hepburn had possessed a classic square face. So did Yang Mi—though in this merged reality, she would be known as the manipulative, gold-digging Lin Xiao from Tiny Times. This woman sitting at the bar might not possess the legendary status of Hepburn, but compared to a parasite like Lin Xiao, she lacked nothing but social prestige.
She wore a simple, sleeveless white blouse, her long, jet-black hair cascading down to her slender waist. Her smile was remarkably sweet. She appeared to be around twenty-three or twenty-four—the absolute prime intersection of youthful innocence and blooming, mature charm. Adrian mentally graded her at an easy 85 out of 100. Prime stock.
"No, I am certain," Ziqiao countered flawlessly, leaning in close to her personal space. "My intuition tells me that only a young, breathtaking princess like yourself could truly complement this Margaret Cherry Red vintage. You remind me of a magical mermaid I met on the Caribbean coast years ago."
'What absolute, sickening garbage,' Adrian scoffed internally.
Yet, to his absolute bewilderment, the girl actually bought the cheap, recycled line. In less than three minutes of shallow banter, the two were laughing intimately, their shoulders brushing.
Adrian watched the scene unfold with a cold, cynical disbelief. 'Are modern women truly this shallow and pathetic?' he wondered. Although Lu Ziqiao possessed a reasonably handsome face, the man reeked of cheap cologne and blatant, predatory deceit from head to toe. Was the barrier to entry for women in this civilized world really this pathetically low?
Within ten minutes, Ziqiao had boldly taken the beautiful girl's hand, whispering something about showing her his 'private art collection' upstairs in his apartment.
Just as the naive girl giggled and stood up, ready to follow the parasite to his bedroom, a terrifying, commanding voice shattered the ambiance of the bar.
"ZENG XIAOXIAN! Where the hell are you?!"
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