Chapter Twenty-Nine: How Much for a Night with You?

Chapter Twenty-Nine: How Much for One Night?

“Huiyin—” Liu Weidong looked at her, his face full of embarrassment.

“Let go,” Lin Huiyin commanded again, mercilessly.

Anger surged within Liu Weidong, and he could barely restrain the urge to slap her. Who did this woman think she was? A goddess? To put him on the spot like this in front of so many people—she really didn’t know what was good for her. But when he met the tangible sharpness in her gaze, he wisely released her hand.

Afraid the atmosphere would grow awkward, Bai Su quickly stepped in to mediate. “Young Master Liu, you know our Huiyin isn’t fond of physical contact—if I held her hand for more than a minute, she’d give me a black look too!”

“Haha! That just shows Miss Huiyin is pure and self-disciplined—a good habit indeed,” Liu Weidong seized the opportunity for a graceful retreat, his expression brightening.

“That’s right. Young Master Liu, aren’t you going to greet our Tang Xin?” Bai Su, hoping to steer the conversation elsewhere, pushed the silent, unassuming Tang Zhong forward from behind.

“Miss Tang Xin—” The man stepped up to Tang Zhong, shook his hand, and said, “To be honest, I don’t think the androgynous look suits you. If you wore women’s clothes, you’d be the most captivating woman of all. Perhaps Manager Bai should consider my suggestion.”

“That’s not my decision to make,” Bai Su replied, feigning politeness.

“Why isn’t Miss Tang Xin saying anything? She doesn’t look well,” Liu Weidong asked, puzzled.

“Young Master Liu, Tang Xin injured her vocal cords while practicing and now speaking is painful for her throat. The doctor said the best way for her to recover is not to speak at all for now,” Bai Su explained the reason for Tang Zhong’s silence.

“A strained ligament?” Liu Weidong looked at Tang Zhong with concern. “Is it serious? I know some internationally renowned rehabilitation doctors—do you want me to have them come take a look?”

“No need,” Bai Su declined his offer. “Thank you for your kindness, Young Master Liu. Tang Xin has already seen a doctor. It’s nothing serious—she just needs some time to rest. The only pity is that you won’t be able to hear her sing for a while.”

“As long as it’s nothing serious,” Liu Weidong said. “Please, come inside. Standing at the hotel entrance with several stunning beauties is a bit too much pressure. If we wait much longer, I’m afraid the reporters will show up to take pictures.”

“They might even run a headline like, ‘Tang Xin’s Mysterious Boyfriend Revealed: Heir to the MIFU Group,’” Bai Su joked, deliberately trying to irk Tang Zhong.

Sure enough, hearing this, Tang Zhong felt an almost irresistible urge to pull down her underwear and spank her.

“In that case—” Liu Weidong turned to Tang Zhong, smiling. “I wouldn’t mind standing here a few more minutes.”

Liu Weidong was a master of social interaction—charming and tactful, making people feel at ease in his presence.

If not for the fleeting violence that flashed in his eyes, Tang Zhong might have genuinely liked him.

Guided by Liu Weidong, they arrived at the “Queen’s Hall,” which Liu Mingwei had reserved in advance.

Seeing Bai Su entering with the members of Butterfly, Liu Mingwei hurried to greet them, shaking Bai Su’s hand with a broad smile. “Thank you, Manager Bai, for coming. I apologize for not coming down to welcome you myself.”

“Chairman Liu, you’re too kind. Young Master Liu was waiting to welcome us at the door—an honor indeed.” Bai Su handled such social occasions with practiced ease.

Liu Mingwei then shook hands with Lin Huiyin and Zhang Hepburn, offering them auspicious words.

When he took Tang Zhong’s hand, he smiled and said, “Miss Tang Xin, we meet again. I’m truly sorry for what happened last time—we never expected such a thing. The trouble it caused you weighs heavily on my conscience. That’s why I insisted to Manager Bai that you simply must accept my invitation today. Please, let this meal be a small token of my apology.”

“Chairman Liu, Tang Xin’s throat still hasn’t recovered, as you know,” Bai Su said with a smile.

“Oh,” Liu Mingwei nodded in understanding. “A singer’s voice is their second life—you must take good care of it.”

Once seated, Liu Mingwei gestured to the man beside him. “You’ve met my son, I believe? He studied in America for several years, even found work there to learn advanced Western management practices. I called him back just a few days ago. From now on, he’ll be working with me at MIFU. You’re all young people; there will be plenty of opportunities to collaborate. Please take care of each other.”

Liu Weidong promptly stood, raising his glass of red wine. “A toast to Manager Bai and the three beautiful butterflies.”

With that, he tilted his head back and drained the wine in one go.

Midway through the meal, Liu Mingwei received a phone call. He apologized to Bai Su, “Manager Bai, I have a good friend dining next door. I must go toast him. Weidong will look after you in my stead—I won’t be long.”

Bai Su, Lin Huiyin, Zhang Hepburn, and Tang Zhong all rose to see him off. Bai Su said, “Chairman Liu, you’re too considerate. Don’t worry about us—Weidong is here to take care of everything.”

Once Liu Mingwei had left, Liu Weidong, as if released from a binding spell, visibly relaxed and became much more flamboyant. He kept encouraging the women to drink, peppering his speech with amusing stories.

“Manager Bai,” Liu Weidong slurred, his speech tinged with drunkenness, “you don’t know—Miss Lin Huiyin captivated me at first sight. But she’s too aloof. I’ve asked her to dinner several times, but she always refuses. Even the gifts I sent her were all returned.”

Bai Su glanced at Lin Huiyin and replied with a smile, “Young Master Liu, I can’t help you there. I’m only their manager, not in charge of their private lives. I only wish for them to find happiness. Whether you can win their hearts depends on your own abilities. I neither support nor oppose.”

Of course, no manager wants their artists distracted by love, marriage, or children, as it could affect their careers. But in front of outsiders, she had to say the proper things.

“That’s good,” Liu Weidong nodded with satisfaction. “Two months ago, for Huiyin’s birthday, I had someone deliver a pair of bracelets to her—at least those weren’t returned—”

“They were returned,” Lin Huiyin interjected.

“They were?” Liu Weidong stared at her. “Returned to whom?”

“Li Lu,” Lin Huiyin replied.

Li Lu was a minor celebrity in the industry, well acquainted with the three members of Butterfly. At Liu Weidong’s request, she brought an expensive pair of jade bracelets to Lin Huiyin on her birthday. Lin Huiyin refused them and had Li Lu take them back. Unexpectedly, Liu Weidong had yet to receive them.

Liu Weidong’s face darkened. He immediately pulled out his phone, dialed Li Lu, and demanded, “Did my gift not get delivered? What? No time to return it? Are you out of your mind? If you didn’t have time, couldn’t you at least call me? Idiot.”

After hanging up, Liu Weidong looked at Lin Huiyin. “I thought you’d accepted them, and I was secretly pleased. I never expected to be rejected yet again. In front of everyone, I want to ask you: What must I do for you to accept my feelings?”

Lin Huiyin’s face was cold; she wasn’t even interested in answering.

These men—why are they all so tedious?

“Why?” Liu Weidong’s face grew ugly, his voice lowering to a growl.

“Young Master Liu, Huiyin’s had a lot to drink tonight—why not wait until she’s sober to discuss this?” Bai Su tried to buy time once more. The only one at the table who hadn’t drunk was Lin Huiyin. The Liu family’s toasts were met with at least a token sip from Zhang Hepburn and Tang Zhong, but Lin Huiyin refused outright—nothing anyone said could change her mind.

“Shut up,” Liu Weidong snapped at Bai Su. “Who do you think you are? Just because I call you ‘manager’ you think you’re important? Aren’t you just another madam in the entertainment circle?”

“Liu Weidong, you’ve gone too far!” Bai Su shouted, furious, pointing at him. “You must apologize to me!”

“Apologize? In your dreams.” Rejected by Lin Huiyin, Liu Weidong had now torn off all pretense. He walked over to the chair beside Lin Huiyin, sat down, and stared at her intently. “Why are you turning me down? Is my family not wealthy enough for you?”

“Or perhaps we should put it another way—” he sneered, “Name your price. How much for one night?”

Crash—

Lin Huiyin picked up her glass of red wine and flung the half-filled contents straight into Liu Weidong’s face.

(P.S.: Reader: How much for one night? Old Liu: A red bill will do—what? You have seven? Then you can book seven nights.)