Kapitel 15

After the call ended, Meng Weixi sat there holding her phone, her knuckles pressing the screen until her fingertips turned white. The driver, glancing in the rearview mirror, dared not breathe, thinking he'd probably be circling the Second Ring Road until dawn.

Meng Weixi suddenly said, "Turn around."

At the Great Wall Mansion, all of his childhood friends were there. They had asked him to get together a few days ago, but Meng Weixi had refused.

He came tonight, but everyone could tell he was in a very low mood.

Meng Weixi had brought a driver, so he drank without restraint. After emptying more than half a bottle of 2002 Dom Pérignon, Meng Weixi put down his glass, got up, and headed outside.

Just as I stepped out of the private room, a long corridor stretched out before me, and fate had other plans.

Gu Heping's cheerful expression vanished instantly as he instinctively stepped in front of Zhou Qishen, who was standing beside him.

Zhou Qishen turned his head and saw Meng Weixi.

The two men's gazes were like those of sharp weapons, neither willing to back down, their steps unwavering, neither willing to yield the path.

After drinking, Meng Weixi's emotions were on full display. With each glance at Zhou Qishen, his resentment and hatred grew stronger. His eyes were bloodshot and red, and Gu Heping knew that Meng Weixi was treating Zhou Qishen the night before.

Gu Heping patted Zhou Qishen on the shoulder, intending to say, "Don't go looking for trouble, turn back and go in another direction." But Zhou Qishen's expression was no calmer than Meng Weixi's; it was as cold as frost, as if carved by a knife and axe.

As they passed each other, they both stopped.

Meng Weixi said coldly, "The banquet that day was rushed, and I didn't have time to say a few words to Brother Zhou. It's been two years since we last met, and Brother Zhou seems to have lost his former vigor."

Zhou Qishen remained indifferent, even with a slight smile. "My dear brother is young and promising, but you've just returned to the country. You still need to learn a lot. Being humble and cautious won't do you any harm. At least you'll be able to figure out the situation and won't be a laughingstock."

They went back and forth, each trying to hit the other's biggest taboos.

Thinking of her father's phone call just now, Meng Weixi's face turned ashen. Zhou Qishen's words meant he must have known the outcome all along. Meng Weixi's heart pounded with anger, and she spoke with extreme arrogance:

"Brother Zhou's guidance back then is unforgettable. Oh, right, I forgot to congratulate you. No, I should congratulate Yinyin." When he smiled, his handsome features were striking, and he said, word by word, "Happy divorce."

That cry of "Yinyin" was undoubtedly a deadly poison, clearly telling Zhou Qishen that he had never let go of Meng Weixi's original intention and first love.

In an instant, all five aggregates vanished, and reason was lost; the two moved their hands almost simultaneously.

Zhou Qishen punched the other man in the head, but Meng Weixi dodged it by tilting his head and shoving him hard against the wall, his stance no less imposing than Zhou's.

They were all men over 185 cm tall, and they were fighting each other with their fists and feet as if their lives depended on it.

"Brother Zhou!" Gu Heping closed his eyes and everything went black. He was rational; if anyone was knocked out here tonight, there would be no way to clean up the mess.

Zhou Qishen was blinded by rage; in his agitation, he became ruthless and even kicked Gu Heping away. Meng Weixi, having exercised regularly, naturally possessed top-notch physique and internal strength, but who was Zhou Qishen? Years of military training had hardened his very blood.

Gu Heping struggled to pull him back, and yelled, "Are you two crazy? You want to be in the news tomorrow, don't you?!"

Meng Weixi had a bloody gash on her forehead, and Zhou Qishen also had a cut on his cheek.

Zhou Qishen raised his hand, wiped the wound with the back of his hand, glanced at the bright red bloodstains, and walked out with his anger still simmering.

As more and more people gathered, the mansion manager stood nervously to the side, stammering, "Mr. Gu, this, this..."

Gu Heping coldly said, "If you dare to leak even a word of this, your restaurant can expect to go out of business."

Chapter 8 The Old Testament (4)

Old Testament (4)

Meng Weixi, who was injured on one side of his body, did not go back into the private room and went to the garage by himself.

The driver, who was dozing in the car, turned pale with fright at the sight of him. Meng Weixi held onto the car door with one hand and gestured for him to get out with the other. He got into the driver's seat, but the driver, still uneasy, was about to say something when the accelerator roared, and the Jaguar sped out of the parking space.

Once on the ground, the night was as thick as a curtain, and the taillights of the cars flashed like a string of pearls. Meng Weixi drove recklessly, honking his horn as he sped along. His face was calm, showing no sign of pain, but he still lost his balance and at the red light intersection, he only managed to stop after crossing the line by half his car.

Having regained some clarity, Meng Weixi drove the car onto the highway. After passing the ring road, they reached the Beijing-Hong Kong-Macau interchange. It was the weekend, and the traffic was heavy and congested. Meng Weixi couldn't stand the torment, so he swerved the steering wheel and pulled over to the side of the road.

With all the car lights off, he leaned back in his seat, a sharp pain emanating from the bloody gash on his forehead. His left wrist was also swollen and bruised, and the leather seat was covered in bloodstains, some from who-knows-where, which looked rather gruesome.

Meng Weixi stared ahead at the empty darkness, where only the occasional mosquito flew by.

He closed his eyes, a sharp pain pounding through his body. His previously numb nerves jolted awake, and pain shot through every part of his body.

That year, Zhao Xiyin was at the Beijing Dance Academy. After graduating, he gradually took over the family business. Meng Weixi was young, but he was steady and reliable in his work. In addition, with his cheerful personality, there was no friend he couldn't make, regardless of social class.

Meng Weixi genuinely liked Zhao Xiyin and always took her with him to various events. In his youth, he was always arrogant and didn't know his own limits when arguing with friends. Later, after losing a drinking contest, a friend teased Zhao Xiyin, asking, "With such great looks, wouldn't you like to enter the entertainment industry and act in a movie for fun?"

Meng Weixi almost fell out with Meng Weixi after a few words.

The friends were all stunned. "It can't be that bad, Xiao Zhao didn't say anything."

Meng Weixi's handsome face darkened. "Her husband said no."

Zhao Xiyin blushed and pulled him outside the private room, saying, "What man? Don't talk nonsense."

Meng Weixi hugged her, acting a bit unreasonable and stubborn, "That's right, that's right, that's right."

Zhao Xiyin felt an itch on her neck from his stubble and laughed as she dodged away, saying, "How childish!"

Inside were his childhood friends, the kind you couldn't shake off no matter what. Knowing his spoiled temper, no one held a grudge. Once inside, he'd be going to have another wild time. Zhao Xiyin tugged at his sleeve, saying with concern, "Hey, don't drink too much."

Meng Weixi readily agreed, but ended up getting completely drunk. Fortunately, he was a good drinker and never caused trouble, though his stomach felt unwell. Zhao Xiyin took him back to his apartment, made him some hot tea, and bought him liver-protecting medicine. Meng Weixi lay on the bed, wrapped in a blanket with his hair disheveled, watching his beloved girl bustling around under the soft lamplight.

His eyes welled up with tears; this simple happiness seemed to stretch to the very end of his life.

Seeing his expression, Zhao Xiyin thought he was feeling unwell and anxiously used the back of her hand to check his forehead temperature. "What's wrong? You don't have a fever. Is your stomach hurting? Sigh, you just don't listen to me. I told you to drink less."

Meng Weixi nestled pitifully against her lap, his high nose rubbing against her skin. He said, "Yinyin, let's get married after you graduate, okay?"

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