When Mu Yuting came out of the cloakroom, he was already in a black suit. The tailored cut perfectly accentuated his fine physique, and his calm, refined, yet aloof aura naturally exuded from him.
Seeing the woman staring blankly at the faint trace of blood on the bedsheet, his heart trembled, and a glimmer of pain flickered in his sharp eyes.
That was her most precious… and she had given it to him.
Although last night she had been the one to initiate, and he had only lost control because she provoked him… the fact remained that they had slept together. Girls were always at a disadvantage in such matters, and he felt a twinge of guilt.
Mu Yuting smoothly took a card from his suit pocket, placed it on the bed, and said in a cold tone,
"There's two million in there. Take it."
Lin Xiaonuan had already been feeling a bit down, but upon hearing him use money to humiliate her, was he treating her like some woman who sold herself?
A surge of anger shot up inside her.
"What do you take me for? I'm telling you, you nouveau riche, don't look down on people just because you've got a few lousy bills. I've got money too…"
Nouveau riche? Mu Yuting looked at the fiery woman in astonishment. People in Jiangcheng and beyond would line up to the Atlantic Ocean just to curry favor with him. Every single one addressed him respectfully as "Young Master Mu." And this woman dared to call him that… If it hadn't been for last night, when he'd been entangled with her, a woman with such little decorum would have been tossed into the river to feed the fish long ago.
His eyes burned with fury, but when he saw Lin Xiaonuan glaring at him, her cheeks puffed out in anger like an indignant little frog, he couldn't help it—he laughed out loud.
Early in the morning, he had treated her like someone for hire, and now he had the nerve to openly laugh at her.
Shameless!
She had to teach this man a lesson.
She yanked her crossbody bag down and rummaged through it furiously, finally pulling out two crumpled one-yuan bills and a single coin—two yuan fifty in total.
Two-fifty was just right for this "er bai wu"* of a man. (*[lit. "250" in Chinese slang, meaning "idiot"])
Without the slightest hint of fear, she lifted her stubborn little face high and glared at him.
"Last night, you even hurt me. Technically, I shouldn't give you a single cent. But since your line of work isn't easy—no achievements, but still hard work—considering you put in the effort, here's two-fifty. Take it, get yourself something nice to eat, and replenish your strength!"
As she said it, her face flushed hot, but things had come to this—she had to grit her teeth and fight to the end, using her momentum to knock this man flat in the sand.
No matter what, she had to win this round!
When she finished, she grabbed Mu Yuting's suit and shoved the money into his fine pocket.
The man's brows furrowed, his hair practically standing on end from rage. Damn woman, was she treating him like a male escort?
He leaned back, trying to dodge the money in her hand, but Lin Xiaonuan had already shoved it into his pocket—her hand hadn't yet had time to withdraw.
In the pulling and shoving, they both lost balance—he fell to the floor, and she fell right on top of him.
Their lips, as if magnetized, landed perfectly together.
Four eyes widened, each pair glaring larger than the other.
They scrambled up quickly, turned their backs on each other, and wiped their mouths—in perfect sync.
Mutual disgust. None of the harmony from last night remained.
This was no place to linger. The man, usually so composed, was flustered, striding toward the door in hurried steps. Before leaving, he still tossed back a cold remark.
"The card has no password."
"Still talking." Lin Xiaonuan picked up a slipper and hurled it at him.
With a smack, the slipper hit the door.
That bastard—if he'd run any slower, she would've nailed him for sure!
After leaving the room, Mu Yuting didn't go out through the hotel's main entrance but took the private passage instead. His Bentley was already waiting there. When Mu Yuting approached, the driver, Mu Yuan, opened the door respectfully.
"Young Master."
"Back to the company."
"Yes, Young Master."
As soon as the car started, Mu Shao dialed a number. "Ye Chen, help me look into someone."
"Name her, Young Master Mu."
"Jiangcheng University, Lin Xiaonuan…" He held a library card between his fingers—something he had picked up at the door of Room 1818 when he left. It must have fallen from her bag when she knocked on the door for help last night.
He couldn't help but recall the entangled passion of last night—the woman's soft moans, his heavy breathing…
Though he was twenty-nine, a true young master from a wealthy family, he had never been so intimately close to a woman before. Countless women had schemed to get into his bed, and none had succeeded. He had never been moved by any of them.
But why had he lost control last night—so much so that he'd been so… enthusiastic—and then been mistaken for a gigolo?
"Damn woman." His brows furrowed, teeth grinding with hatred, yet he couldn't bring himself to throw the library card away. He casually went to slip it into his pocket.
His fingers brushed something—the money she had shoved in.
He pulled it out: two crumpled one-yuan notes and a fifty-cent coin.