106. Setting Off Fireworks

“What shall we order? Steak and a vegetable salad, perhaps?”

In the restaurant, Jingyuan Guo perused the thick menu, her eyes slightly overwhelmed as she sought Song Yunhui’s opinion.

“That sounds good. Also add two servings of foie gras, lobster, and cream of mushroom soup. Sister Wen likes French cuisine.”

Jingyuan silently noted this down, then selected a few more dishes after discussing with Song Yunhui before placing the order.

“How are we going to carry these ingredients over later?” she asked again.

Song Yunhui waved a hand. “The waiter will bring them. Let’s first pick a bottle of wine to take over. Sister Wen specifically requested red wine; that’s important.”

Jingyuan nodded somewhat sluggishly. The two then carefully selected red wines from the wine cabinet.

Logically, Song Yunhui should be well-versed in wine varieties, but after Jingyuan finished looking at a row of empty bottles, she turned to find Song Yunhui had vanished.

“Where did he go?” Jingyuan wondered aloud.

She passed through the wine cabinet, scanning around for a while, only to find Song Yunhui leaning on a nearby counter with a curious and slightly excited expression.

Inside the counter were several palm-sized square boxes. The left side held various imported candies, and on the right... seemed to be cigarette packs?

Jingyuan suddenly felt as if transported to another world.

The past had been so hard. She had scraped together money to buy cigarettes, lighting one whenever she could hardly bear it, stealing moments of leisure amid the smoke. Later, after Chen Ruowen threw away a cigarette butt at her once, she never touched the habit again.

Song Yunhui sighed deeply with emotion. “It’s my first time seeing so many cigarette packs.”

“Does no one around you smoke?” Jingyuan asked curiously.

“No.” Song Yunhui shook his head. “You probably don’t know, but Sister Wen absolutely hates the smell of smoke. The Double Star Compound is a no-smoking zone within three kilometers. Even Uncle Chen, a longtime smoker, was forced to quit by her. Because she dislikes it, none of us like it, so naturally no one around smokes.”

After admiring the exquisite cigarette boxes from around the world, Song Yunhui returned to the wine cabinet, quickly selected two bottles, had the waiter note them, and went down to the cellar to fetch the wine.

While waiting, the two chatted lightly about their sole topic—Chen Ruowen. Every time Song Yunhui mentioned her, his fangirl enthusiasm mirrored that of Geng Jiaojiao, which piqued Jingyuan’s curiosity.

---

“You all seem to really like Ruowen?”

“Of course,” Song Yunhui said without hesitation. “You don’t know how perfect Sister Wen is.”

“I know,” Jingyuan nodded in agreement.

But shouldn’t these privileged second-generation heirs usually disdain everyone else? Why was their allegiance so unanimously devoted to Chen Ruowen?

Hearing Jingyuan’s puzzlement, Song Yunhui shook his head proudly.

“Because Sister Wen is perfect. She’s our star, the sun, the moon. I’m happy to revolve around her.”

So Song Yunhui was also a die-hard fan of Chen Ruowen, Jingyuan thought.

---

By the beach, Wenbo Kang frowned deeply as he listened to Chen Ruowen’s recent words, his expression grave.

“Do you have any evidence for these suspicions?”

Ruowen shook her head. “If I had evidence, I wouldn’t have come to you. These are only my guesses.”

“These guesses are quite...”

“Terrifying?” Ruowen shrugged indifferently, glancing at Geng Jiaojiao and Bai Jinyan, who had been sidelined. “That’s why I’ve always said your military is too naive. If this were told to Grandpa Kang or Uncle Kang, I guarantee it wouldn’t surprise them.”

“Not every politician spends their energy on scheming,” Kang said, shaking his head, then asked, “Do you want me to help investigate?”

Ruowen nodded.

“Understood. I’ll do my best,” Kang agreed. “What about Uncle Chen?”

“I’ve told him, but he’s got too much on his plate. This task is pushed down his schedule, and some things may be beyond our reach.”

“Sister Wen, I’m busy too! Training’s exhausting,” Kang joked.

Chen Ruowen rolled her eyes.

---

Elsewhere, Song Yunhui and Jingyuan finally returned to the beach each carrying a bottle of wine. Chen Ruowen immediately stopped her conversation with Wenbo Kang, then called over the sandy, sulking Geng Jiaojiao, the reluctant-to-leave-the-sea Bai Jinyan, and Manhao. The group opened the wine and began drinking and chatting.

Whether it was the estate’s usual entertainment or someone had ordered a surprise package, as dusk fell, a grand fireworks display began over the sea, each burst blooming brilliantly—a spectacular sight.

The estate’s service was a bit slow; Song Yunhui’s two bottles emptied before dinner was slowly brought out. They ordered a few more bottles, lit a bonfire, and drank heartily.

Geng Jiaojiao had started babbling nonsense, clutching Chen Ruowen’s arm while crying and throwing tantrums, then grabbing Kang’s neck and wailing drunkenly. Remarkably, Kang maintained perfect sobriety all night, his self-control admirable.

Jingyuan had also drunk a bit too much; her cheeks and eyes glowed red as she murmured quietly to herself.

Chen Ruowen, though a light drinker, had much better manners than Geng Jiaojiao. Before completely passing out, she found Bai Jinyan’s shoulder to lean on and soon lost consciousness.

Bai Jinyan barely stayed awake, watching as everyone else reached their limit. He entrusted the only fully sober Kang Wenbo, then called Assistant Pan and Old Cui, who had been quietly in the villa’s first-floor guest room all day, to carry everyone back to their rooms.

“You shouldn’t drink so much when you can’t hold it,” Bai Jinyan whispered carefully as he laid Chen Ruowen flat on the bed, helping her remove her shoes before pulling the covers over her exposed long legs.

Ruowen’s sleeping face was adorably gentle, lacking some of the commanding presence she had when awake.

Bai Jinyan cupped her face softly.

Her skin was as tender and smooth as freshly made tofu; long lashes veiled beautiful eyes, her complexion pale as snow, brows and features perfectly sculpted.

Perhaps sensing breath on her skin, Ruowen softly murmured and irritably pushed away the hand tangled around her waist.

“Don’t push me away.”

Bai Jinyan whispered this unheard command, then bent down to gently brush his lips—tinged faintly with the scent of wine—against hers before quickly retreating as if to avoid being seen.

Bathed in moon and starlight, his fair skin from ear to neck to fingertips was flushed with a suspicious red—resembling the fiery blossoms of fireworks that had lit the evening sky all day.