Chapter 9 – Sugar Daddy
The next morning, when Shu Mingyang woke up, he found that Xiaomiao had already been up for a while. She was in the backyard garden, playing frisbee with his three dogs. The dogs barked happily, running all over the place chasing after the frisbee she threw.
Normally, Shu Mingyang was too busy with work to spend much time with the dogs. The servants would only take them out for walks at fixed times. Now that Xiaomiao was here, the three dogs finally had a real playmate.
He poured himself a cup of coffee and walked over, leaning against the doorframe, watching her lively figure moving in the crisp winter sunshine. Suddenly, he froze and called out,
"Liang Xiaomiao, what on earth are you wearing?"
She shouted back, "Your clothes!"
He walked over. "And where are your clothes?"
"I only have two dresses. You told me not to wear dresses in winter, remember?"
Shu Mingyang rubbed his temples in mild frustration. "You're so young—why are you living like this? Even as a street singer, you should have some income, right? Didn't it ever occur to you to save up a little money?"
Xiaomiao put the frisbee down, instantly losing her good mood. She crossed her arms and looked at him.
"What? You, the big-time CEO, think you're so successful that you get to lecture 'losers' like me? Is that how you get your little sense of superiority?"
"That's not what I meant. I just think you could make your life a bit better…" Shu Mingyang felt helpless. Why was it that every time she got upset, her words were so sharp they stabbed straight into his chest?
"Well, save your concern. This is my life. I'll live it however I want."
She snorted, brushed past him, and went back inside.
Shu Mingyang sighed and followed. He wanted to say more, but then he saw her curled up on the sofa—a small, fragile bundle. All those "life advice" speeches stuck in his throat. After all, this was her life. Who was he to tell her what to do? In his eyes, her lifestyle might look awful, but maybe she had her own hardships, things he didn't know.
Thinking that, his tone softened. "I'm sorry. I guess I sounded arrogant just now. I wasn't looking down on you… I just… care about you."
Xiaomiao looked up at him with pitiful, wide eyes. Her voice was small. "It's not like I don't want to save money, but I don't earn much singing every day. You rich boys who've never known hardship think it's easy to survive in this city? This is N City, you know."
That made Shu Mingyang feel even guiltier. He quickly pulled out a bank card and handed it to her.
She blinked at him. "What's this for?"
"Take it and buy yourself some clothes, and whatever else you need. I don't have any women's stuff here, and since you're going to be staying here, you should at least have the basics."
She gave him a cautious look. "But I don't have the money to pay you back…"
"It's fine. You don't have to."
"Really?" she asked, testing him. "Then can I buy the bags I like? And shoes?"
Something about her careful tone made his chest ache. He figured she must have had a hard life. "Yes. Whatever you want, buy it."
Her eyes lit up instantly. She squealed and threw her arms around him.
"Shu Little Cutie, you're the best! I'm heading out right now!"
Her laughter lifted his mood too. "Want me to drop you off? I'm heading to work anyway."
"Sure, sure."
So Shu Mingyang drove her to N City's busiest shopping district. She hopped out of the car, waved, and said, "Go to work! Good luck!"
But as soon as his car disappeared, the innocent smile faded from her face. She glanced at the bank card, sighed, and muttered,
"Well, it's your own fault for pissing me off. Let's see what your credit limit can handle today."
With that, she turned and walked straight into the nearby Chanel boutique like she knew it by heart.
A blonde sales associate spotted her and lit up. "Kitty! Long time no see. We just got some new handbags in—want me to show you?"
"No need," Xiaomiao said, pointing to the prominent display. "Just wrap up all those for me."
"For anyone else, no—but for you, of course," the blonde replied cheerfully. "Anything else? We've got some dresses that would look amazing on you."
"Sure, show me."
Twenty minutes later, the saleswoman had packed up seven or eight shopping bags. Xiaomiao pulled out Shu Mingyang's card, but the woman stopped her.
"No need to pay. Mr. Brown said he'd cover anything you buy here."
Xiaomiao blinked innocently. "But I dumped him ages ago. Didn't you hear?"
Finally, the blonde got a chance to pass on the message Brown had given her. "Yes, I've heard… but he asked me to tell you he still feels the same about you, and he hopes you—"
She didn't get to finish. Xiaomiao's face turned cold.
"Then do me a favor—tell him I don't need his fake affection. I've found a new sugar daddy—handsome, generous, and, most importantly, way better in bed than his dead-fish performance."
The saleswoman froze, looking awkward. "I… uh…"
Xiaomiao handed her the card. "Charge it. And make sure you tell him exactly what I said."
Five minutes later, she walked out of the store with her bags and headed straight for the Gucci next door.
Back at Chanel, the blonde stood in the doorway looking troubled. She whispered to a colleague, "Did you hear what she just said? How am I supposed to pass that on to Mr. Brown? I'll get fired for sure."
Her coworker shrugged. "Could be worse. At least Mr. Brown is mild-mannered. The sugar daddy before him had a nasty temper—when they broke up, he almost trashed one of our other stores."
The blonde frowned. "I just don't get it—why do rich men like this type of woman?"
"Who knows? Maybe life's too comfortable, so they like to find trouble for themselves."
—
Meanwhile, Shu Mingyang was in the conference room, deep in a meeting with his team about product details. Because the discussion involved company secrets, he had everyone leave their phones outside—so he had no idea he'd already missed over a dozen calls from his bank.
A few minutes later, his assistant walked in, looking urgent. "Sorry to interrupt, Mr. Shu, but the bank manager says it's urgent. He couldn't reach your mobile, so he called the office. Should I put him through?"
"Sure, transfer it here."
Once the assistant left, the product manager, Harold, looked worried. "The bank? Is there a problem with company funds?"
Since everyone present was part of the core team, Shu Mingyang didn't hide it. "I don't know—let's hear what he says."
He hit the speaker button.
"Hello, Mr. Shu, sorry to disturb your work," the middle-aged bank manager said. "But there's something unusual I need to confirm with you."
"Is this about company funds?" Shu asked.
"No, no, your company accounts are fine. This is about your personal account. This morning, one of your cards racked up $767,000 in charges in under thirty minutes—all women's luxury clothing, handbags, shoes, and cosmetics. Since this isn't your usual spending pattern, we suspected fraud. We've frozen the card and had mall security detain the person using it. Should we call the police?"
The room went silent. Shu Mingyang paused for a moment. "Was it a young woman named Liang Xiaomiao?"
"Let me check… yes, that's the name."
"I gave her the card. It's not fraud. She's a friend of mine. Please release her and return the card—everything she bought is fine with me."
"Understood, and apologies. We didn't know she was your friend. As one of our valued clients, we were just trying to protect you."
"No problem. I appreciate your caution."
After hanging up, Shu Mingyang said calmly, "Now… where were we? Let's continue."
But everyone else was still staring at him in shock.
He tapped the table. "We're in a meeting. Focus!"
They scrambled to compose themselves and the meeting went on.
Half an hour later, as soon as Shu left the conference room, the place erupted.
"My God! I always thought the boss was an innocent rookie at love. Who knew his first romance would be this intense—he's gone full-on sugar daddy!"
"Yeah! Seven hundred grand! That's like two years of my salary! That girl's ruthless."
"But did you see how he didn't even care? Ugh, must be nice to be rich. Suddenly I feel like asking him to keep me—I'd settle for six grand a month!"
"Dream on. You think you have her looks or her skill? Honestly, I saw the girl yesterday when the boss dropped her off—she's a total gold digger. And a pro. Look at how she's got him wrapped around her finger."
"Haha, the front desk girl's gonna cry—she's been crushing on him forever."
"You didn't hear? The boss scolded her first thing this morning. Someone said it was because she argued with that girl yesterday."
"Wow… looks like he's in deep. Should we warn him? I don't want to see him get played."
"You want to warn a man in the honeymoon phase? You crazy?"
While the others gossiped, Harold stood up, looking serious, and went to knock on Shu Mingyang's office door.
"Come in," Shu said.
Harold took a deep breath, putting on a casual tone. "Hey… how does it feel to blow over seven hundred grand in one go?"
Shu smiled lightly. "Pretty good."
"Look, man, I know I might kill the mood here…" Harold hesitated, choosing his words. "But you've never been in a relationship before, so I think I should say this—if a girl spends that much of your money after knowing you only a few days, she's definitely not in it for love."
Shu looked amused. "Harold, you've got it wrong. We're just friends."
"Just friends? You mean you haven't even done anything with her, and you still let her spend $700,000?"
"I'm not after anything from her. I just saw her struggling on the streets, and wanted her to have some clothes and things. I just want her to live a little better."
"That kind of money would let the average American live more than a little better—it'd keep them comfortable for years," Harold said dryly. "Shu, don't you think you're being a bit too generous? You should know that some girls act pitiful just to get sympathy and then…"
"Harold, I know what I'm doing," Shu cut him off. "I appreciate your concern, but I don't need advice."
Hearing the hint of displeasure, Harold backed off. "Alright, maybe I'm meddling. But still—if you ever want my opinion, just ask."
"I will."
Shu smiled as Harold left, but as soon as the door closed, his smile disappeared.
It wasn't the money that bothered him.
What he cared about was whether the charming, coy, and innocent tricks she used on him… had also been used on other men.
Do you want me to also make a slightly more Westernized adaptation so the slang, cultural cues, and pacing feel like a native English romance-drama novel rather than a direct translation? That could make it even smoother for English readers.